Page 7 of Anyone But Her

"I didn't steal it."

He shrugs. "You could, you know. Those rich bastards wouldn't even notice if you took a few bills from their wallet."

My dad assumes everyone who plays golf is rich, but I work at a public golf course, not a private country club, so most of the people who go there aren't rich. They just like to golf. I'm sure some of them have money but it's not like they're millionaires.

"I didn't steal it," I say. "It's from getting a hole in one."

"A what?" My dad knows nothing about golf. Either that or he pretends he doesn't because he knows I love the game and knows how much it hurts me when he shows absolutely no interest in it.

"A hole in one," I say. "It's when the ball lands in the hole on your first shot. Some guy said he'd give me money if I got a hole in one."

My dad looks at the money in his hand, then quickly counts it. "There's five hundred dollars here." He looks at me. "Some guy gave you five hundred dollars to get a ball in a hole?"

"Yeah," I say, not wanting to tell him the real amount and that the guy is Albert. I want my dad thinking this was a one-time thing so he isn't hustling me into getting even more money. "It's really rare to get a hole in one so this guy didn't think I'd actually do it. But then I did so he had to pay up."

My dad walks up to me until he's in my face. "And what is our arrangement?"

"That I give you ninety percent of what I make, but this wasn't a job. It was a bet. And I won."

He works his jaw back and forth, angry because he knows that technically I'm right. Our arrangement didn't specify money I won. Only money I earned.

"You're not as dumb as you look," he says, stepping back. He eyes me, holding the money up between us. "This will cover the amount you owe me for while you're gone."

"So no double shifts when I get back?" I ask, excited I'll be able to use that time for golfing instead of at the shipyard.

"You'll still work double shifts. You have to make up the hours you'll be missing. This money will cover the work you're not doing at home. The lawn work. The dishes. Laundry."

"But that's too much!" I protest. "That stuff isn't worth five hundred dollars."

"It's worth what I say it's worth." He points his finger at me. "And don't you ever talk back to me, boy. You hear me?"

I nod. "Yes, Sir."

"Now get outta here. If you miss that bus I'm not driving you."

Grabbing my duffle bag I race out of my room before I scream at him.

He took my money. The money I won from the game I love. Every time I got one of those fifty dollar bills I was so happy, and not because of the money but because of what it meant. It showed I was actually good at golf. Not just average but really good.

If I only had one fifty in that drawer I could chalk it up to being a fluke. A lucky shot. But the fact that I had ten fifty dollar bills proves it wasn't about luck. It was about skill. It proves I can really play golf and be good at it, maybe even good enough to play professionally one day. That'd be my dad's worst nightmare but I don't care. It's my dream. It's what I want to do.

I'll know if that's even a possibility after the golf camp. It's for the most talented teen golfers in the country, or at least that's what the brochure said. Part of me doesn't believe that because if it were true, why'd they invite me? I'm good, but not that good.

When the invite arrived in the mail I asked Albert if he got me the spot. He knows a few pro golfers from back when he managed a golf course. They could've got me the invite but Albert assured me that wasn't the case. He said my skills got me the invite. He sent in videos of my swing along with my scores the past year and said that's all it took to get me accepted.

As for who's paying for the camp I know it's Albert. I didn't ask because I knew he'd deny it but who else could it be? There's no way my parents would pay for it so Albert's the only option. I don't know where he got the money. He always says he has plenty of money but if that's true then why doesn't he move to a better house in a better neighborhood?

"I'm ready!" I call out as I go into Albert's house.

He greets me wearing a navy sports coat and beige dress pants, a big smile on his tan, wrinkled face. "You sound excited."

"Are you kidding? This is the best day of my life! I get to golf for two whole weeks!"

He chuckles. "I'm glad this makes you happy. You deserve it, Luke." He comes over and pats my shoulder. "You're going to be the best golfer there. Just wait and see."

I shake my head. "More like the worst."

His brows furrow. "Why would you say that?"

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