Melinda getting out of bed woke me up. When the shower started, I followed her into the bathroom. She’d just started to wash her hair when I stepped in behind her.
“Let me,” I said.
She was using a strawberry-scented shampoo-and-conditioner-in-one. I put that away and got out my supplies. Someone needed to educate this poor girl. Mine smelled of ginger. Adrienne had turned me on to Paul Mitchell’s Awapuhi, or Wild Ginger, shampoo and conditioner. I used it during the winter months to help prevent my hair from drying out.
Melinda let me do her hair and wash her, then returned the favor. We finally got out when the water began to cool off. One day, when I bought my own house, it would have one of those instant water heaters like they have in the UK. That way, there would be an endless supply of hot water.
We got dressed and walked downstairs to the house and into the kitchen for breakfast. The look on Dad’s face was priceless when I strolled in with a Victoria’s Secret model. Mom kicked him under the table.
“She’s new,” Mom said to me and then turned to Melinda. “My son has forgotten his manners. I’m David’s mom.”
“Melinda, Melinda Kesh.”
Dad and I made breakfast while Mom got to know Melinda. I guess it wasn’t surprising they got along so well. At least Mom was nice to her. Melinda planned to fly out tomorrow, so it was decided Mom and Dad would take her to the game. I had to ride on the team bus. Moose wanted to keep track of me, for some reason.
◊◊◊
When we got to State, we were early, so we had time to see everything that was set up around the ballpark. It looked like Mrs. Sullivan had replicated her ‘Taste of Lincoln’ theme. There were ten or twelve food stands manned by different local restaurants. I thought this was a smart idea on her part. This way, the boosters didn’t have to mess with cooking and watching everything else. They had a big tent with tables where you could take your food and eat.
They’d also sold booths to a variety of groups. There were ones for the different charities I was involved with: Homeless Coalition, pregnant teens, and cancer support. Caryn had volunteers working the booths for our charities, and Mr. Orange was at the homeless one with Brit and Sun. They had others that had everything from arts and crafts, to a farm stand, to plants. One booth was doing face painting.
I stopped at that one and had them paint black lines under my eyes with the bulldog logo in the center. Of course, everyone wanted them once they saw mine. They did different designs for each guy.
When I came to the end of the booths, I found my car on display. The Booster Club was selling 1,000 $100 tickets. It was good to see they’d painted the car black and put the Range Sports logos back on it. The car looked sharp, and many people were buying tickets. My lawyers would be happy they hadn’t left it orange and blue with my number on it. I pulled my phone out and snapped a photo so I could send it to Mr. Morris.
Moose found us, and we walked back to get ready. There was starting to be a crowd, and people recognized me. My teammates put me in the middle, and we made it to the locker room without any trouble.
◊◊◊
Our first game was against Lang Academy. They were a reform school and always had boys coming and going, so they were never great. It was usually the first game we played each year. Ray, Harper’s best friend, went there because he had a drug problem. His parents had also wanted him ‘cured’ of being gay. I sometimes wondered about people. Luckily, Harper had said they focused on his drug issues and not his sexual orientation at Lang.
I knew what it was like to be persecuted by one’s family. My own mother had just admitted that my older brother was her favorite. No, I wasn’t letting that one go.
They were planning to play two regular games today, instead of the traditional doubleheader, where you got to see two games for the price of one. They’d decided to empty the stadium between games, so that in theory more people got to see us play.
We were in right field warming up when Lang Academy arrived. I spotted Ray and waved. He looked like he’d grown and seemed healthier. We let Lang take the field to warm up. It gave me a chance to check out the crowd that was forming. State had given Lincoln High the seats down the third base line to sell. Tami and the other Wesleyan girls were seated there, with Melinda in the middle. She was all smiles, so I hoped for the best.
The various college scouts were grouped together behind home plate. There was someone there with a Cubs hat; it turned out to be Lucas Kite, the scout I’d met when I was in LA. I walked over to say hi.
“Hey, Lucas. Who you here to see?” I asked.
“I’m here to see the man who drew over twenty thousand to his first baseball game this season. How’ve you been, David?” Lucas asked.
“Good. I’ve been working on what Coach Revilla taught me.”
“Who?” asked the Texas scout.
