They sent me to make breakfast.
◊◊◊
I had gone to wardrobe and then makeup to get ready for my first scene when Zak ambushed me.
“Are we on for tonight?” he asked.
“I’m not going to regret this, am I?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Zak asked.
“It isn’t a birthday party for a thirteen-year-old, is it?” I asked.
“No, nothing like that,” Zak laughed. “They’re actually, uh, nude models guaranteed to be 100% natural.”
“And …” I prodded.
“They rarely have parties, but when they do, they’re supposed to be legendary. From what I hear, it’s supposed to put the Playboy parties to shame.”
“How did you get invited to this?” I asked.
“Well, in fact, you did. I noticed the invitation in your studio mailbox and took it before Caryn got your mail. I took it upon myself to have you invite four guests and me.”
Devin had three friends standing up with him. If I thought this through, I’m sure that Zak had planned to invite his own friends. He must really want to go if he was willing to give up the other tickets just so he could attend. I would also have to make sure he couldn’t get into my mail anymore.
“That’s why you needed me. Why was I invited?” I asked.
“I don’t know, maybe it’s because you were born with a horseshoe up your butt,” Zak whined, and then he huffed. “There’s one more thing; well, maybe two.”
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” I asked.
“Trust me, you’ll thank me later. We all have to arrive together, and you have to allow them to photograph you with the models.”
“Have them send over the release and contract to Caryn,” I said.
“So you’ll do it?” he asked eagerly.
“You have to get one more ticket for my security,” I said.
He looked confused.
“Fritz, the beefy guy who follows me around,” I clued him in.
“Let me make a call,” he said and hurried off.
I wondered what ‘uh, models’ meant. I had a good imagination, and if Zak was involved, they were either hookers or porn stars. Hopefully, Devin would be okay if they were.
◊◊◊
Coach Revilla came to me for our last session. I was happy because I didn’t have the time to drive to practice today. He pulled out his laptop and turned it so I could see.
“I spent some time analyzing some of your more recent hitting videos. Compared to where you started almost a month ago, you’ve made great strides. I also received a copy of the scouting report Lucas Kite put together. I’ll be sending both to the Under-18 selection committee with my recommendation that you get a shot at the tournament. From there, it’s up to you.”
“I appreciate your help,” I said.
“It’s obvious why you’re such a highly rated football player. Many times, just being a great athlete isn’t enough. You might not remember, but Michael Jordan retired from the NBA so he could see if he was talented enough to be a professional baseball player. At the time, he was the best basketball player in the world, and he didn’t make it in baseball.
“I guess what I’m saying is, you have the underlying talent to be a good, and maybe even a great baseball player; but as of now, you’re still raw. My concern is with a change of position, you might have a hard time making the Under-18 team, just because you haven’t spent enough time in the field. What makes me want to give you the shot is your hitting.
“You have the frame to add more muscle, which you’ll need if you want to survive the rigors of a major league season. What makes you one of the better hitters I’ve seen at your age is your hand and wrist strength. You’re able to fight off pitches others can’t. You also have excellent eye-hand coordination. I want you to put in the work this off-season to get better. If you were under contract, I’d send you to winter ball,” he said.
“Baseball is a possibility, then,” I said.
“Let’s put it this way: you look like a baseball player; you have all the measurables we’re looking for; and you’re big, strong, and can run like the wind. Add your ability to hit the ball, and you’ll get a shot. Your being a top-rated high school quarterback tells me that you have the work ethic that’s needed. The only thing that’s missing is time playing the game.”
I was told almost the same thing about football my freshman year.
We spent the rest of our time talking about what he wanted me to do to improve my hitting. Just like throwing a football, you had to create the muscle memory, and the only way to do that was to hit, a lot. He promised to keep in touch, and I thanked him.
◊◊◊
Mom showed up with Dad just before my day ended at the set. They both were sunburned from being out and about their first couple of days here. I knew they’d had a good time because Dad sent me photos all day. They’d all gotten their picture taken with Mickey and Minnie as well as Goofy. The girls also had theirs taken with one of the Disney Princesses.
“You ready?” I asked.
Mom was coming with me to my driving class. They wanted to talk to her about personal safety as a realtor.
“Whenever you are,” Mom said.
