Fainting

Chapter 13 - Allison

On Thursday, Jason calls and asks if I want to go skydiving with him. The weather is beautiful today – not too hot, not too cold – and he's a sucker for anything dangerous.

I'm not really.

I politely decline, saying maybe next time.

He snickers. "That's about as likely as Jordyn stopping setting you up with random boys."

"If you knew how likely it was that I was going to accept, why'd you even ask?"

Click. He hangs up.

That's my brother.

I'm back at Cade's for the day. My friend is back from her trip, and I want to say hi.

Walking in, I don't immediately see her, so I go score myself a table and open sudoku on my phone to kill time.

"Hello, señorita. How may I be of assistance to you today?"

"Annabella!" I get up and hug her. "How was?"

She sits down across from me. "So good. Alicia and Camilla have moved in together and Camilla has a boyfriend, which, when she told me, I did not believe; Victoria and Sebastian are married; and Sofia is pregnant!"

"Congratulations!" Annabella went back home to Mexico for a few weeks and saw her family and friends; Alicia is her sister and Camilla Alicia's best friend, Victoria is another sister, and Sofia is Annabella's best friend. "How long?"
"Due in the middle of November, so she's a couple of months already. Ahhh! I'm so excited!"

I smile. It looks like she's about to say more, but a group of people come into the restaurant, so she's forced to pause our conversation and go waitress them. I know that's not a verb, but don't tell the grammar police. Please.

When she comes back, we talk and catch up. She tells me more about her trip and I tell her what's happened lately, including that I fainted for the first time ever.

"Honestly I'm surprised you made it this long without fainting, with your pans or whatever."

I swat her arm. "It's POTS, not pans." She smirks. She knew that. "And I'm also surprised."

I tell Laela – that's my nickname for her – about Mark. She's the only one I've told so far because she's the only one who's not going to make a big deal out of it, other than the typical "Ooooh. Allison Parker has a boyfriend," dragging out the end of 'friend'.

I roll my eyes. "He's not my boyfriend. I've seen him a grand total of one time ever." I don't mention that it was for a couple of hours.

"Uh-huh. I'm incredibly convinced, Saw." That's what she calls me.

I've been texting Mark throughout the week; he said that his sister's leaving today and he could come by in the afternoon to watch the tournament.

Just before one o'clock I hear a knock on the door. "Come in," I call.

Mark slides open the van door. "Hey."
"Hey," I say, dumping the popcorn I just made into a bowl. "You like popcorn?"
"Duh." He smiles and I follow suit.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Jenn's gone."

I laugh. He said that with such relief. "Is that your sister? You hate her so much that you were so excited for her to leave?"

"No, she's just super annoying and..." he sees my face. "Oh. You're joking," he grumbles.

I laugh again. "Have a seat," I say, inclining my head towards the couch. I sit down next to him and turn on the TV – yes, I have a mini-TV on a swivel hanging on the wall. It's a necessity.

His face is all scrunched up, concentrating on the screen. It's cute.

Happy's up to putt now. She swings her arm a few times and hits. It goes flying into the water.

"Oof," Mark and I say at the same time. Happy gets one more ball, hits it, and makes it over the hill.

Next up is Gale. "Watch. He's gotten really good," I say.

"Moody's still cooler," he responds.

I snort. "That doesn't mean Gale's not good."

"I know. I just said Moody's cooler. Meaning, Gale might be good at golf, but Moody's personality will always win."
I humph and he turns around to grin at me. "Look at it this way, Allison. This way we both win. Someone for the cool category and someone for the skill category."

"Okay, you kind of contradicted yourself there. Being cool also takes talent; you have to maintain your coolness. Otherwise you're not cool." He frowns as he ponders this. "And you're missing Gale's turn. That's unacceptable."

He furrows his brow. "But I put a lot of thought into what I said. You can't just degrade my statement."

"I just did. And you're still not facing the TV, meaning that's Gale Fully's turn you're missing. Turn around," I order. Mark makes a face at me and turns around, and – just in time – catches Gale's drive. Well, not physically catches. The ball's in Georgia and Mark's in California. But he sees Gale drive the ball; a drive is the first shot of a hole – when you need to hit the ball the furthest – and it's done with a driver club. His hit is a zinger – hit high and hard. He hits the ball two hundred and sixteen yards; that's above average. Gale looks rejuvenated and refreshed after that hit.

"See, and you were going to miss that," I say to Mark, grinning. He shoots me look and turns back to the game, hiding a smile.

I only recorded Sunday's round; on Saturday Jordyn came over and by Monday the tournament was over. The final scores were Gale Fully in first place, followed by Moody Westly, Happy Mordy, Dareck John, and Steve Roderick.

"Ha! Last place last year, first place now. So much for your 'personality overrides talent.'"

Mark rolls his eyes. "Fine, but Moody still got second place. I feel bad for Steve, though; he's always first place at the beginning of the tournament but then begins to lose momentum, so he's last place by the end."

"Two years ago he came in fifth but there was still someone in sixth. So he wasn't last place."

"Come on. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I also feel bad for him."