EASY OUT

6: HART

Coach was relentless at practice. It's typical of him. He runs us hard in the off-season to build up our endurance and stamina and get us acclimated to the heat. He gets off on breaking us down and building us back up.

He almost managed to break me during my freshman year. I felt like he was singling me out. Coach Lawson rode me so hard that I wanted to walk away. The endless hours of torture didn't seem worth it. My dad is the one who encouraged me to keep going.

Dad mentioned I was getting better. I didn't believe him at first, but he was right. My instincts were better. My throws were more accurate. I was stronger at the plate. Coach pulled off some kind of weird Mr. Miyagi shit.

There's talk that I could be one of the top draft picks this year. So, yeah, I take the beating without complaint. It helps that I'm also a little distracted. I spent most of the practice thinking about my upcoming study session with Lauren.

I've gone years without noticing Lauren. Yeah, I'd see her once or twice a semester when she was with Syd, but I never looked at her twice.

Suddenly after spending time in her atmosphere a week ago, Lauren is everywhere I look. She's in my classes, sitting in the quad when I go to practice, in the campus cafeteria when I grab my spicy breakfast burrito. I can't get away from her, and now she's my writing partner.

I need things to go back to what they were like before I got put under the spell of Lauren Hickman. I don't appreciate this new obsession I have. She is monopolizing too much space in my head.

Maybe writing a story about her will satisfy my curiosity. I can get her to answer all my outstanding questions and then move on. I manage to ignore attractive girls on campus every day. I can do the same with Lauren.

The library is busy for the second week of classes. I had no idea this many people come here to study. How do they get anything done with so many people around? It's distracting. Or maybe it's just me that finds it distracting with so many people watching me.

I can count on one hand how many times I've actually come here over the years, preferring the quiet and privacy of my bedroom. I would have suggested meeting Lauren there if I thought she would go for it. On second thought, having Lauren in my room would be a bad idea. All I need is for my room to smell like her.

I pull out my phone and fire off a text letting Lauren know I'm on the second floor. I'm hoping it will be quieter up here since it's away from the help desk and student center.

I spot a table in the back corner. I don't particularly like the idea of private time with Lauren in dark corners of the library, but it needs to be this way if I'm expected to talk to her.

I busy myself on my phone while I wait for Lauren. I came straight from practice, so I'm early. I'm in the middle of updating my fantasy football team when a bag drops on the table beside me.

I assume it's Lauren, but when the cloying smell of this person's floral perfume assaults my senses, I know I'm wrong.

"Hey, handsome," she greets me. The girl makes herself comfortable in the chair next to me. "Whatcha doing all the way back here? I kind of like it." She leans in close. "No one can see us back here." The girl places a hand on my arm, and my spine stiffens.

I snatch my arm out from under hers and move my chair away from her. This girl isn't bad to look at, but I know her type. She is more attracted to the Knights baseball logo on my hat than she is to me.

I should give her Wyatt's number and send her on her way. He lives for this kind of hook-up. He likes the girl who wants to say she had sex with a Newhouse Knight. For whatever reason, Wyatt doesn't want the attachment. He doesn't do feelings. Love 'em and leave 'em as he says.