Chapter 5
I can't sleep. All that really happened in one night. I could see a slight dim light coming from my window. I sat up on my bed, my eyes weighing themselves down. I turned my lamp on and looked at my fist. Still had a massive red mark on them. This was reality. I grabbed my phone from behind me. I had received a text from Liv and an email. I looked at Liv's message."Everything okay?" I wanted to say no. I wanted to scream, yell, and cry. But, I think my adrenaline is already gone, as well as my dignity. I checked the email and it was from Coach. It was our preseason schedule. We have a game today, in an hour. Should I even go? I have to, he'd never let me skip. I stood up and grabbed a random shirt, some sweatpants, and underwear. I went to the bathroom and showered. I tried not to get my hands wet as I knew the burning sensation would be irritating. Once I got out, I looked in the mirror. I lifted my hands, and they were trembling aggressively. Does trauma cause tremors? I don't know. I got dressed and went downstairs. I haven't seen my mom since the weekend started. I didn't even see her in the hospital. I walked out of the house, looking at the sun just coming out. I just need to walk to the baseball field and pitch an inning or two, then I'm done. I feel like I should email him and tell him what's happened. No. He doesn't take excuses. That's all I can remember.I forced myself to walk to the baseball field, and then to our locker room. Everyone was already in here, changing. I walked to my cubby, and our jerseys and pants were nicely set in our cubby."Yo Thomas." I looked to my side. It was Karson."How're you feeling about this first game?""Confident, and ready." I forced a smile, but inside I felt nothing. I put my jersey, pants, cleats, and hat on. Coach Dreason walked in and began giving us a speech."Alright boys, the first game of the preseason. This is where you get to show your roles, show why you deserve to start, and show why you deserve to even play. We're facing the Panthers today. And they had good sluggers last year. But our pitching will shut them down. Everyone put their hand in." We all made a circle around Coach Dreason and put our hands as close as we could to him."Everyone. Weasels on three." One... two... three..." Everyone shouted weasels at the end, but I didn't. I couldn't. I sat back down in my cubby and picked my glove up. I slowly put it on, wincing when it made contact with my torn-off skin. I walked out of the locker room and onto the field. There wasn't a crowd. But I could see the other team practicing. I was struggling to stay awake. I walked to the dugout and sat down at the end of the bench. I pitched during the end of the game anyway. I blinked rapidly for a second, then kept my eyes closed. I just need to rest my eyes. I'll still be awake. The faintest black made my mind feel better."Thomas!" I instantly jumped up and was looking at my coach."What're you doing!? Get out there and pitch!"I nodded and jogged to the mound, ignoring the looks of everyone else on the field. As I walked up to the mound, I looked at the batter. A righty. That'll make things harder. Caelan threw the ball to me, and I caught it, feeling instant pressure. The rain began to drizzle, causing the air to be heavy. I wiped my forehead and took a deep breath, trying to stop my hands from trembling so much. I took my stand on the mound, glancing at the scoreboard. We were up by two runs in the bottom of the eighth inning. I looked at my catcher and he signaled for a four-seam fastball. I nodded, Winded up, and threw. He hit it out to center field, and by the time it reached the infield, he was already at second. Okay, a double on the first pitcher. Not a good way to start.I forced myself to focus on the game, not on him. He wouldn't want me to be distracted. The hardest game a man can win is the game against himself. Something I was taught by my father while I was growing up. I received the ball back from Karson, and I could see him mouth the words,"No pressure." Thanks, something I needed to hear. I got back onto the mound and looked at the next batter, he looked strong, so I needed to be sure not to give anything that's gonna receive strong contact. I looked at Caelan and he signaled for a cutter. I nodded, Winded up, and threw the pitch. My grip slipped halfway through, and once it was released, it was nowhere near the strike zone. Somehow, despite it being completely thrown to the left, Caelan was able to catch it. At least we have a great catcher. I looked at the umpire who yelled that it was a ball. Down in the count, I need to tie it up.The ball was thrown back to me and I looked at the outfield. I took another deep breath and looked at Caelan. The rain was coming down harder, and Caelan signaled for a slider. I managed to get it over the plate, but the batter fouled it off. Well, that's one way to tie the count. I glanced at Coach Dreason in the dugout who was staring at me. No pressure, right? Now I'm not so sure. Were my hands shaking from the pressure, or... him? Next pitch, sinker. The rain was making it hard to focus. I threw the sinker down low, but the batter didn't bite. Ball two. The pressure was mounting and I could feel my control slipping away. I could feel my confidence slowly fade. Next pitch, cutter. I threw it, and it was hit into the outfield. Our left fielder scooped it a little past the infield. I looked at the dugout, everyone was shaking their head, or looking away. I was failing the team. I got the ball back, and I wanted to leave the mound.This pressure is getting to me. I can't play when I'm still thinking of him. I looked at my left hand, shaking harder than it was this morning. The batter stepped onto the plate, another righty. I had to get him out anyway. I looked at Caelan who called for a cutter. I shook my head, signaling that I didn't want this pitch. He then called the slider, but I shook it again. All this pressure, I need to throw with power. I ignored any other sign I received. The batter looks skinny. I'd be surprised if he could get the bat off his shoulder. I winded up and threw a fastball at the top left corner. There was a crack and instant silence. Even the rain stopped. The ball was soaring past our infield, past the outfield, and it left the stadium. He crushed it to the left side and crushed my confidence. Of all people, how the hell does he hit it out of the park? I watched him round the bases and I didn't know what to do.What should I do? Do I keep pitching? I looked at the dugout, and Coach Dreason began jogging to me. I looked down and walked to him. Once we got close enough, he began yelling. It was just a blur to me, as my mind was focused on what happened yesterday."Now go sit your ass on the bench. Putting us down by one now because of your no good ass." That's the last thing Coach said before I walked to the dugout. Once I got there, I took off my gloves and sat down. Nobody looked at me. But then Cole walks to me and begins yelling."What the hell was that!? You went out there and blew a two-run lead. And now here you are, sulking! Get the hell up!" I didn't get up."I said get up!" Cole grabbed the collar of my jersey and pulled me up, I was now facing him, and he was gripping my collar hard."You're not gonna sit down while making us lose. Look at it. Look! Nobody would be proud of you right now, not your mom, dad, siblings, or anyone!" Dad... that's all that rang in my head. I balled my fist up, and threw it forward, right into his face. He instantly let go of my collars but then started pushing me against the brick wall of the dugout. I began tearing up and yelling in anger."Let me go!" I started punching him and kicking him, trying to harm him in any way until our teammates pulled him away and I stormed into the locker room.I got to my cubby and began to cry. But these tears instantly changed to anger as I threw my hat on the ground, and started punching the cubby. The pain in my hand was excruciating, but it was the only way I could relieve it. Once I calmed down, I sat in the cubby and cried. I wanna go home. I need my dad to give me his daily wise words. I wanna hear from him again. Please, someone, please let my dad come back. I'm turning into this asshole, and he wouldn't be proud. I can't have anyone see me like this. I don't know what to do. I sat in the locker room for the rest of the game. Once it ended, everyone slowly came in, cheering."Great win every one, great win." I heard one of the players say. We won. We blew a lead because of me but won once I got removed. I began taking my jersey off. Karson looked at me, but just started undressing like I did. I could use some advice, but I don't wanna ask for any. What would it be about? Is it trauma? I don't think I'm traumatized. I think I'm just really scared and upset to the point where my body reacts to it. That might just be trauma. Once I finished undressing, and putting back on my regular clothes, I left. I was surprised that there wasn't anyone saying anything to me, no speech, nobody questioning what happened with me and Cole, nothing.The rain kept going, but it became a little lighter. Why have these past two days been the wettest days on earth? Once I got home, I opened the door, ran into my room, and laid face-first on my bed. I need to try and sleep. At least one thing I can make him proud of. He really would be disappointed, wouldn't he? I closed my eyes, attempting to put those thoughts, but they never left my head."Hey, Son..." I struggled to open my eyes, once I did, I saw my mom looking at me."Hey, Mom," I whispered to her, my eyes watering."I know how hard it's been on you. I don't want you to have to go out and struggle. You can take some time off school. I already called the school and let them know. I just want you to relax." I barely let off a grin."Thank you, Mom." I sat up on my bed, and my mom started heading to the doorway."Mom?" She stopped and looked at me."Yes?""Do you think he was ever disappointed in me?" She waited for a moment, trying to comprehend my question."There's only one time he would be disappointed in you. And that's when you would say you can't do something. Because he always knew you could. He was always your number-one fan. He wanted to watch you succeed. As long as you live a long, happy life, he'd be proud of you, not disappointed.""Thanks. I needed that.""Anytime." She then walked out. Even though she told him he never really was disappointed, why do I feel like, right now, he's looking down feeling ashamed of his son? Blowing a lead, and starting a fight. I didn't even start it, well, I guess I did throw the first punch, but he should've seen it coming. I stood up and walked downstairs. I can't stay in the house all day. I need to find something to do. Something to take my mind off, life. I walked out, the rain still going, and I followed my sidewalk to wherever it led me.A music store. That's what I saw in the distance. Is that what I needed? At this point, anything will do. I walked to it, and it looked nice. A decently sized music store. I entered inside. There were guitars all over the walls, and drums on the floor. The guitars were mainly electric, with some acoustic guitars being tossed in. The walls were white, and clean wood flooring. There was some background music as well. It was rock, but I couldn't tell exactly who the artist was. I walked around and began looking at the electric guitar. They look hard to play, much harder than acoustic guitars. I only liked acoustics because of my dad, and because they sounded much more natural. I stopped looking at the guitars and started looking at the drums. I don't know how people in band class can play this so fast. It's incredible to me. How long does it take to learn drums? My guess is a few months even to be considered decent. I mean you can be considered good at a piano after a few weeks, but they might just say that to be nice to you.I started walking around and I found the one instrument I was glad to see, a grand piano. It sat down on the stool in front of it and stared at it. I pushed down on C4, and the sound was perfect. I held down the right pedal with my left foot and tested it again, such an amazing extension. I lifted my hands and put them on the keys. Maybe I'll play something a little. There was a piece of paper on the side and I grabbed it. It was sheet music for "Clair De Lune". I set it down and looked at it. Seems easy enough. I began to play, each delicate keystroke giving a beautiful melody. As the speed picked up, I began daydreaming while playing. It felt like everyone was looking at me. It felt like I was on stage again, performing big in front of crowds. I could imagine the loud cheers, and the encouragement from my parents, my friends at the time, and everyone. And now here I am. I instantly threw down all my fingers on the keys and stopped. I changed. I'm letting this change me, and I can't let that change start affecting me the way it did at my game. I got off the piano and left the store, feeling a bit confused about why I stopped playing. Not even my dad would want me to stop changing. It's just the change in. I gotta stop.Once I stepped out, I began walking down the street. I think I'll take the bus home instead of walking. Be different rather than stay on the same route. As I walked over to the bus stop, I accidentally bumped into a woman."Pardon me." She dropped her bag."I'm sorry." She said. She picked up her bag, and we looked at each other. She was beautiful. Black hair, and eyes that had a purple tint, made it seem like I was staring into another galaxy."I think we met before." She caught me off guard with this."Have we?""I think so." She took off her backpack and showed me it."This must be yours." I grabbed it, and it was mine. This was the girl I met in my first class a few days ago."I'm surprised you kept it.""I figured I'd run into you someday. Also, why are your eyes so red?" At that moment, I began rubbing my eyes."Oh you know, I just had a bad sleep. Judging by the way she looked at me, I could tell she didn't believe me."I see. Well, we can go get a coffee or something...""Are you sure?""You don't have to! But it's just, you know, we met, and you must be tired, so this can help you be energized." She makes a good point."Alright, let's go. Do you know a good café?""Yeah, I do. Follow me." I put my backpack over my shoulder and followed her. She didn't talk much. Clearly introverted. She was me. Maybe a better me. A me without having my disappointments. We got to the café. I've never been to a café, so I wasn't sure what to expect.It was nice and warm inside. She sat at a booth, and I sat across from her. I kept my hands on my lap, but they kept shaking. I looked at the menu that was at our table. I was never a coffee guy, but they did make tea, thankfully. The waiter came and took our order. I ordered a simple peppermint tea, and she ordered a bagel and coffee. As the waiter left, we sat in awkward silence. Two introverts together is not gonna be fun."So...""So... what?" I asked, praying that she had something to talk about."How's your morning?""It's fine. How's yours?""Pretty good, just a little surprising to run into you." I wasn't sure how to respond, so I didn't respond at all. I looked out the window, and it finally seemed like the rain was slowing a bit. The barista brought our drinks a little after that. I put my hand on the handle. My hand was still quivering a little, but it was noticeable to her. I took a drink, and she took a drink."You sure you're just tired? You must be really exhausted if your hands are shaking.""Yeah, trust me, it's just tiredness." If this interaction ever leads to a bond between us, I might just tell her, but until then, no. I took another drink of the tea. It had a strong, minty flavor, but tasted slightly sweet. I may have to start heading here more often."How's the coffee?""Oh, it's good. You must not be a coffee person?""Never been a huge fan."How come?""The bitterness.""Well, not all coffee is bitter.""You're right." It's all the coffee I've had that tasted bitter. In a TV show, this would be the part where she offers me to drink her coffee or something. I don't know what made me think of that, but that's how this feels. I finished my tea, and she was almost done with her coffee. I've still yet to figure out her name. I have no confidence to directly ask what her name is. I just gotta keep the conversation going."What's in the bag?" Yeah, I'm the worst conversation starter ever."Oh, just a cloth. I have to clean my oboe.""Oboe? Like the flute?""Yeah. Usually, people don't know what an oboe is.""They probably do know. But they just call it a flute rather than an oboe.""You're right about that." We laughed at the same time."What about you, do you play?" She asked me."Not the oboe. Or any flute. But I can play acoustic guitar and piano.""They always say the piano and oboe go perfectly with each other.""Do they?" I was curious if she was hinting that we should play together."No. But, they probably do sound good. Kind of like a piano and guitar sound good.""Fair point." Well, she shot my curiosity out of the sky like we were playing duck hunt. She finished her coffee and a few seconds later, the barista brought the bill. At the same time, we both grabbed our wallets and then looked at each other."I got it." I insisted."No, please, it's the least I can do.""It's okay, I'll handle it.""Are you sure? I mean, I invited you. So it'd be rude to have you pay.""I'm sure, it's just two drinks. It can't be much.""Well, alright, if you really insist." She put her wallet back in her pocket. I took out the money, set it on the table, and we began to leave. Once we got outside, it was time to say goodbye. We looked at each other, the rain stopped, but it was still cloudy."I'll see you around in school, maybe?""Yeah, maybe," I replied. I don't think I'll be going to school for the next week. But, when I come back, maybe me and I will start hanging out."Oh, I never told you my name. It's Roselyn.""Roselyn, that's pretty unique.""Yeah, I'm not sure how my parents came up with it. Must've had a love of roses." I couldn't help but chuckle."Well, I'm Thomas. It was nice to meet you.""You as well... too." I waved her goodbye and began walking off."Wait." She called out to me and I turned around."I... uh... never mind." I turned back around and left. What was that? She wanted to say something. But I guess she was too nervous. The oboe though, that's pretty cool. I never met someone who plays the oboe. Now that I remembered, I said I would take the bus, but now, I don't want to. I decided to walk home.That evening, I was sitting on my bed, looking through my backpack. I have to make sure nothing was stolen. I'm not saying she's a criminal, but, I'm superstitious. I opened it up and checked inside. My laptop was in there. My water bottle, my scarf, so far everything seemed good. I took the laptop out and opened it up. A piece of folded paper fell out. I grabbed it off the ground and opened it up. It was a phone number. Huh, she gave me her number. Is that what she wanted to tell me, but couldn't? It's sweet that she wanted to keep in contact. I pulled out my phone and called the number. It rang and rang, and rang, then she picked up."Who's this?""It's Thomas. I saw the paper you put in my backpack.""Oh, yeah. Sorry, I just wanted to... I don't know, stay in contact.""Is that what you were trying to tell me outside?" She went quiet for a few seconds."Roselyn?""Sorry, yeah, that's what I wanted to tell you outside.""I see. Well, I'll let you do whatever you have to do. Speak soon.""Ri-right... see you soon." I hung up the phone and stared at my wall. What will I do now?