Life Lines

1: The Sickness

Chapter One

Everywhere I went on this course, I heard his name. They all said it with a sense of wonder and amazement. They spoke about him in terms of his rank, his scores, whether he’d win the championship this weekend, his handicap. Of course all the girls talked in terms of his looks, his eyes, his mysterious and offsetting demeanor…his lines.

As I was studying the lie in front of me, trying to decide the best approach to the hole, the group of gaggling girls I usually hung out with stood off to the side. They were talking about the same subject that they usually did.

Him.

“Oh my god. Did you see him this morning?”

“Yeah,” Dreama sighed. “He’s probably the most gorgeous…” I ignored the next thing that popped out of her mouth, not really wanting to hear the subjectification of him again. “Who do you think he’s taking to tonight’s cocktail party?”

“Me,” the remaining girls chorused.

I rolled my eyes and tried my best to ignore them. Sometimes I didn’t understand why they weren’t cheerleaders. They definitely fit certain aspects of that profile better. They were thin, they were always cheerful, they gossiped. God did they gossip. But they were my friends, god only knew why. I was more of the girl-next-door type but all of us were as thick as thieves, no matter what anyone else thought. They were good company off the field, but on? A complete distraction.

“Focus, Nat. You’ll ruin the shot if you don’t.”

I glanced at my best friend, and caddy, Allie. Her actual name was Alagracia but she’d gone by Allie since we were kids. If we were anywhere else but the course, she was the top dog, the leader of our group. My competitor in every way possible. If Allie was around, no one gave me a second glance. Who could blame them, really? It wasn’t her fault she’d inherited her mother’s Spanish curves and beauty. Paired with her father’s smarts and sensibility, she was good at everything and always got what she wanted.

But not this.

This was the one and only thing I dominated in.

“The green slopes up a little as it approaches the cup. So don’t hit it too hard, maybe put a little curve on it in case the ball decides to head in the wrong direction on its way up.”

I nodded and stood up, planting my feet just like I was supposed to. Unlike most golfers who fluctuated between looking at the ball and then the hole, I just stared at the ball. I could always picture the hole perfectly, the way the sod laid, the amount of moisture on the grass…

I could do it blindfolded if I was completely focused. My father said it was the funniest thing, how it worked. I told him it was a good thing he read me both golf magazines and fairy tales when I was a kid. I had a great imagination and that was the only reason I could picture it like I could.

I positioned my putter just where I wanted it.

I let out a breath, releasing the tension in my shoulders.

Just as it hit the ball, my friends let out a squeal, making my shot go way to the left as my muscles jerked in response to their outburst.

I squeezed my eyes closed and wrinkled my nose in frustration.

Damn.

“What is the deal?!” Allie yelled at them. “You totally ruined her shot!”

“Sorry!” Oppie said. “It’s just…”

I opened my eyes and glared at her. She stopped talking, pressing her mouth in an excited hidden smile. Opaline was the youngest of us, born in September just before the school admitting cut off date.