Page 83 of Anyone But Her

Chapter Sixteen

Luke

Are you nervous?

The text pops up on my phone as I'm getting ready for bed. It says it's from Kirk but it's really from Taylor. Kirk is the fake name I've assigned to Taylor's number just in case anyone sees my phone when we're texting.

Not really, I text back.

How could you not be nervous? The tournament's in two days!

Albert told me if I get nervous he'll kick my ass.I smile as I type it.

Taylor waits to text back, probably wondering how to respond. She either thinks I'm joking or thinks I actually believe I'm communicating with dead people.

The truth is, I do talk to Albert. I do it all the time. He doesn't talk back but in my head I can hear what he'd say if he were still alive. And as for this tournament, he'd say being nervous is being scared and that fear does nothing but hold us back. Fear is believing something bad will happen and that what you believe tends to come true. He'd say it's much better to believe something good will happen.

So far, he's been right. Since the first time I played I believed I'd do well in golf and now I'm one of the top amateur players in the country. One of the best in my age group.

When I was younger, the fear of failing would hit me now and then and I'd tell Albert I should just quit. Whenever that happened he made me play a round of golf, and every time I'd suck at it. He was trying to prove how much power our thoughts have and he proved it every time. Then we'd go to the driving range and he'd make me imagine the ball was my fears and that each time I hit one I was driving away my fears. It worked. I'd leave the driving range feeling confident again. Now every time I get nervous or worry I'm going to fail, I go to the driving range, assign each of my fears to a ball, and hit that sucker as hard as I can, sending it soaring through the air.

The past few days I've spent a lot of time at the driving range. My fears of not playing well at the tournament keep creeping back and I have to hit them away. I usually don't worry this much but it's because I've dedicated this week's game to Albert and I don't want to let him down. But then yesterday at the driving range I got a sign which I know was from Albert. There was a yellow ball in the bucket of balls I was using for practice. It was at the very bottom so I didn't see it until I was almost done. It's not uncommon to have a colored ball show up now and then, but I rarely get a yellow one.

Dropping my club, I picked up the yellow ball and smiled. I knew it was from Albert. He was telling me to relax. To not take the tournament so seriously. To play for fun like I did when I was a kid. The yellow ball was a reminder of that. A reminder of Albert and everything he taught me.

Holding the ball I looked up at the sky and laughed. I kept laughing and people were giving me strange looks but I didn't care. At that moment all the fears I had left me and all I heard in my head was Albert saying, "Go out there and do what you love." He used to say that all the time. He never wanted me to see golf as a job or a way to make money. He said to do what I love and the money will follow. I've had to force myself to keep believing that because I'm struggling to pay my bills and can't even afford to get my own place. But I'm doing what I love, and the day after tomorrow, when I'm playing in the tournament, I'll tell myself that again.

Taylor texts back, I'll kick your ass too. It's followed by a smiley face and then, Albert told me to say that.

I smile. She doesn't think I'm crazy. That's good.

Another text pops up. I talk to my grandpa before I play.

Her grandpa passed away a few years ago. He was a pro golfer like her dad.

What does he say? I text.

Wear good socks. You don't want sweaty feet when you golf.

I burst out laughing. I was expecting profound words of wisdom from the late great Gerald Tuckerman and instead I got sock advice.

That's awesome,I text back. I wish I could've met him. He sounds like my type of guy.

He was great, she texts. I should let you sleep. Good luck with the commercial tomorrow!

Thanks! Goodnight!

Tomorrow they're filming me for the WaveField commercial. WaveField is a sporting goods store owned by billionaire Pearce Kensington and his son, Garret. Taylor is good friends with Lilly Kensington, Garret's sister. They go to college together at Camsburg. When I was there during parents' weekend I met Lilly and ended up getting hired by her brother for this commercial.

Another text pops up. This one's from Cal.

Good luck tomorrow! Flash that smile of yours. Girls love those damn dimples. Maybe you could actually get a date.

Cal's always nagging me to go out with girls. The dimples do get me a lot of attention. I get asked out a lot but I turn down the requests because I already have a girl. But Cal doesn't know that. He never asked me about my made-up date with Birdie last Saturday and I never brought it up. I'm guessing he thinks it didn't go anywhere given that I haven't mentioned her since.

It's after ten but I'm not ready to sleep so I make my way to the main house and go in the kitchen. Everyone's asleep but Barb always leaves a light on in case I get hungry in the night and need a snack. She's so damn nice to me, like the mom I never had.

Opening the fridge I take out an apple and a piece of string cheese. I'm trying to eat better. My coach said cleaning up my diet could help my game.

---