Page 27 of Easy Out

“Um, well, English was a scholarship requirement. I earned the scholarship based on a short story I wrote. Fiction was always better than reality. Writing was an escape. My mom.” Lauren looks to the sky and clears her throat. “She, uh, told the best stories. I wanted to be like her.”

“And journalism?”

“It didn’t take me long to figure out that even reality had its share of fiction. I want to be someone who writes the truth. I want to use my voice for good. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Why journalism?”

“Oh, my dad. He owns the local paper in my hometown. It’s the family business and my backup plan.” Her eyebrows scrunch together.

“Backup to what?”

“Baseball. I’m going to the show.”

“The show?” Her ignorance is as adorable as it is refreshing.

“The majors. Professional baseball.”

“Ahh. I didn’t know that was a possibility.”

“It’s not a possibility. It’s a guarantee.” Lauren doesn’t look impressed. If I told any girl on campus, except for Syd, I would have gotten some kind of reaction. I wish she was impressed. Being good at baseball is the only thing I have going for me.

“Do you have a preference where you end up playing?”

“I don’t care.” I just want to play baseball. It doesn’t matter where I go. My mom would like me to stay in Alabama if it’s an option, but she knows this is my dream and will support me wherever I end up.

“What position do you play?”

“Shortstop.” Lauren nods her head like she knows what I’m talking about.

“Cool.”

“You have no idea what that is, do you?” I ask with a smile. Words that I usually find difficult to form effortlessly leave my mouth.

Maybe it’s because she is holding her cards close to her chest. It allows me the space to pick and choose what I want to share with her as well. Lauren can’t judge me for staying quiet if she is doing the same.

“No. I don’t. Baseball is the game with the nets, right?”

“Funny. Don’t worry, I will teach you.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to do that. Sports aren’t really my thing.” We’ll see about that.

All I can think about while we work out a plan for our project is getting her to the stadium to watch a practice and, in the spring, a game.

You won’t be spending time with Lauren in the spring. You won’t be seeing Lauren at all once you turn in your paper.

Why does the thought of not being around her next semester give me more anxiety than speaking in a room full of thousands of people?

7

LAUREN

“I swear Dr. Nichols has it out for me,” Syd says from her seat at our dining room table.

Calling it a dining room is a stretch. It’s an empty corner off our kitchen with a small table that fits four people comfortably. If we had more than two chairs and didn’t fill half of it with clutter. We should really clean up.

“Why do you say that?” I ask as I check the casserole I have in the oven. It just needs a few more minutes until it’s melted cheese perfection.

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