Page 35 of Easy Out

“Gracias. Now, tell me more.“ I glare at her. Give it a rest. “What? This is the first time you’ve come home and mentioned anyone other than Wyatt and Koa. Forgive me. I’m intrigued.”

“There isn’t much to say. I’m not lying. We’ve only met up a few times to discuss the assignment. I’m meeting her tonight when I get back to campus.”

“You don’t have any issues speaking with her?”

“No.” My parents eye each other momentarily. My mom smirks. Pats the corner of her mouth with her napkin.

“Say it,” I demand. I know she has something rolling around that brain of hers.

“I’m just happy you are speaking to new people.”

“I’m not mute.” It’s a lousy defense. I might as well be, and she knows it. The fact that words rarely leave my mouth has been a point of contention between my parents and my teachers for years. It was noted on every report card and came up at every parent/teacher conference.

“I know, mijo. Lauren is easy to talk to?”

“Sí,“ I answer effortlessly. I don’t feel the constant fear or struggle when I’m around Lauren. Something about her puts me at ease. It’s like she was always meant to be near me and a part of my life.

“Maybe spending time with Lauren and talking openly will help you with the media situation.” I groan. “Has Lawson brought up media training?” Dad asks.

“Not yet. He’s too busy trying to weed out weak players on the team. I’m sure he will bring it up again.” I’ve been reprimanded every season for my brusqueness with reporters. Ironic, considering my family background.

“He’s good at that.” My dad chuckles. Probably remembering my freshman year. “Have you heard from Lorenzo or Marco?” The Morelli brothers are as much a staple in my dad’s life as they are in mine.

Dad lugged the three of us all over Alabama for baseball games when their dad was too busy working. My dad was also the one who taught them how to hit a ball when it isn’t sitting on a tee.

“We hung out before classes started and have been texting here and there. Marco has fallen in love at least a dozen times already.” They both laugh.

“I’m sure they are busy with classes and practice too. And girls,” he adds with a playful roll of his eyes. “It’s too bad they chose ASU over Newhouse.” I nod in agreement. I mean, I get it. I wouldn’t want to go to school where my dad worked, either. I’m already toeing the line by taking one of Morelli’s classes.

He wasn’t a huge part of my life since he traveled so much for work, but he is an “uncle” by friendship. He is my familia without the blood ties.

Mom stands to start clearing the table. “You should bring Lauren to dinner next week,” she throws the invite out casually. Dad smiles. I sigh. You can’t tell mom no. I mean, you can. But she will bulldoze over you and eliminate any excuses to turn that no into a yes.

“I will ask. She works on Wednesday nights.”

“Where? What does she do?” I take my plate over to the sink and gently push my mom out of the way to take over for her.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask her tonight.” Mom smiles and nods her head. “Don’t be upset if she doesn’t want to come to dinner. She isn’t…,” How do I say this, “social.” That is the best way to put Lauren’s lack of participation in college life.

I don’t know why she chooses to keep to herself so much. Besides her friendship with Sydney, I don’t see her talk to anyone on campus. Sydney has mentioned a few girls in their dorm that she hangs out with, but I don’t know if Lauren hangs with them too.

“She is shy like you?”

“I’m not shy.” Neither is Lauren, for that matter. You don’t compete at The Warehouse and fall under the same umbrella as being shy. “I don’t want you to be disappointed. Don’t start planning anything until I talk to her.”

“Maybe we should wait a few weeks. Give them both time to get to know each other first, Sylvie,” My dad suggests.

“Fine.” She throws a towel on the counter in frustration and rants about never getting to have fun.

Mom works on putting the food away while I finish the dishes. I’m crossing my fingers she isn’t so upset she forgets to send me home with a container of leftovers.

Dad gives us a rundown of what’s happening with the paper. There is a new junior reporter who has more ideas than complete sentences. He also mentions spring and summer internships available. I make a mental note to tell Lauren about them.

I think part of him wishes I would work with him and take over one day. Dad also understands if baseball is an option, it’s the only option for me.

My phone dings, but I ignore it. It goes off again and then a third time. I pretend I don’t hear anything. My mom, however, is waiting on pins and needles and is near death from curiosity.

I exhale an exaggerated breath and pull my phone from my pocket. She is going to be disappointed when she finds out it’s Wyatt. He is usually the only person who texts me in quick succession.

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