Ever since Arianne had agreed to be his date for B-Bash, Garrett had been hopping from cloud to cloud. Not even the chilly reception during baseball practices could bring him down. He avoided Marcus and Stephan, and they did the same, although he caught several glances directed his way when they thought he was occupied. The weird part was he didn't notice any animosity in those looks. Only curiosity and a hint of regret.
Arianne wasn't his only reason for riding high. His pitching had improved, and he was throwing consistent strikes. Every time the ball zipped into Stephan's mitt with a loud smack, Garrett felt like busting out into a dance. Not that anyone would want to see that. He was a horrible dancer. Hopefully, Arianne would only want to slow dance. If not....well, he guessed he would have to suck it up and dance because he'd do anything to make that girl happy. Even subject himself to the endless ridicule of his teammates.
As practice wound down, Coach Foley pulled him into his office. He motioned for Garrett to remain standing as he sank into the chair behind his desk. "I'm liking what I'm seeing, Delko. I don't know how you got back on track, but I'm happy you did."
Garrett planted his feet shoulder length apart and clasped his hands behind his back feeling like a soldier in front of his drill sergeant. "Me too, sir."
"If I put you in another game will you get turned around again?"
Garrett's answer was immediate. "No, sir."
Baseball season had officially started. The first couple of games had been rocky as the team had been working out kinks, but they'd won despite that in large part to Jordan who had been on a hot streak. However, in the past few tournaments, the team had gelled together, and now they were pulling off wins like a well-oiled machine. Gus had been acting as the relief pitcher while Garrett warmed the bench and pretended he wasn't dying to be part of the action.
"Are you sure?"
Garrett had every confidence he could deliver. With Arianne by his side, he was Superman. "Yes, sir. I won't let you down like last time."
Coach Foley's gaze probed his. Satisfied with what he saw, he gave a sharp nod. "You can go."
"Thank you, sir."
But before Garrett left the room, Coach called his name. "For the record, the only time a player lets me down is when he's not putting in his all." Coach's mood shifted, became more solemn like he was trying to impart something important. "Give your all to the team, Delko. Not just your best. But your time and energy."
As Garrett gathered his things in the locker room, he wondered if Jordan had told Coach about their talk. Or was it the other way around? Had Coach encouraged Jordan to talk to Garrett?
Ever since Cardboard Under the Stars, Garrett had been making an effort to interact with the team more. He never skipped a team meal and made all the get-togethers although usually, he left before it got too rowdy. His goal was to initiate at least one conversation every practice. He noticed a difference in a few of the players, but the majority treated him as an annoying pest they'd like to ignore.
Of course, Jordan was the same asshole as always, heckling Garrett when he was up to bat or on the pitching mound, but at least he was interacting with Garrett. Gus acted the same way if Jordan was nearby, but once he left, Gus followed the other players' example and ignored him. It dropped Garrett's estimation of Gus while he begrudgingly admired Jordan. The guy was nothing if not consistent.
After practice, Jordan called a quick meeting during dinner to discuss the final details of B-Bash. Standing at the head of a long table that looked like something out of Hogwarts, Jordan went down his list, writing notes as people answered. Garrett was responding to a text from his mom when Jordan said, "DJ. Do we have that squared away?"
Garrett flushed with panic. He'd forgotten about the DJ. He stuttered for a plausible excuse, but Stephan, sitting on the opposite end of the table, piped up. "It's taken care of. It's the same guy who did Cardboard Under the Stars. He'll be there from ten-thirty to two."
"What about the invoice?" Jordan asked.
Marcus chimed in, "We paid him half, and the rest is due the night of."
"Does he know where to go?"
Marcus nodded. "We emailed him the details, and the hotel already has his info."
Jordan's gaze cut to Garrett, waiting for him to speak. His eyes dimmed with disapproval when Garrett dropped his head in shame. "Good job," Jordan said to the two, noticeably cutting Garrett out.
Stephan and Marcus perked up at the praise, and Garrett felt a prick of annoyance. He knew they weren't currently talking, but they sure switched sides fast. They used to complain how awful Jordan was to Garrett. Maybe they enjoyed it now.
Jordan wrapped up the meeting. "And if you don't have your dates yet, be sure to get on it. You don't wanna be the asshole who has to ask a girl last minute."
Afterward, Garrett saddled up to Marcus and Stephan. "Um, thanks for taking care of the DJ for me. It completely slipped my mind." He was still pissed at them, especially for what they said to Arianne that night. He didn't care how drunk they were. They didn't have a right to be rude and condescending. But regardless of his personal feelings, they deserved a "thank you" for covering his ass.
"The DJ thing wasn't just you, ya know," Stephan said around a wad of gum.
"What?"
Stephan's dark eyes flickered with irritation. "It was our responsibility. Ours. Not just yours."
"I..." Garrett blinked in confusion. "I know that."
"Do you?" Marcus asked as Stephan shook his head in frustration and brushed past. "It's no wonder you have an ulcer."
Garrett balked. "What do you mean by that?"
"You cling to responsibility like it's an anchor and then wonder why you're drowning. Finding a DJ didn't fall on your shoulders alone. We were in it together. Something you forget all the time." Marcus leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Look, we know you have a lot going on in your life. And yeah, we probably didn't go about things the best way, but Saint, we're not the enemy. You can rely on us. We're your teammates." Marcus followed Stephan out the door, not giving Garrett a chance to answer.
Well, fuck. He hadn't thought of it like that. In his mind, he was apologizing because he hadn't done a single thing to find a DJ while they had researched and set everything up. He hadn't meant to make them feel irrelevant. However, he didn't know what to make of Marcus' opinion of him. Did he really come off as someone who shouldered the responsibility in every situation?
As Garrett shuffled out of the cafeteria, he pulled out his phone to text Arianne. He wanted her opinion. Ever since he'd gotten her phone number during their night on the bench, he'd been updating her about his situation with the team and his friends. She'd been encouraging him to be more open and honest with them.
"How can they read the map and know the terrain if they don't have the key?" she asked over the phone. He'd called her late one night as he lay awake in his bed, unable to sleep. Greg was gone, hooking up with some girl, and the room felt too quiet.
"I don't understand how you can be so forgiving toward them," Garrett muttered, shoving a hand under his pillow and looking up at the ceiling. "They were assholes to you."
"I'm not saying this for them. I'm saying this for you. You, Garrett Delko, need friends."
"You're my friend."
"You need more than me."
A part of him wanted to tell her she was right. He needed ALL of her, but it was too soon. "You only have Morgan," he pointed out.
"I have my meditation crew, and I'm involved with the homeless shelter and other volunteer work." Arianne volunteered like it was her job. It didn't take a psychology degree to figure out she was using it to fill a missing void in her life. However, Garrett found it curious that she chose a homeless shelter of all things.
"Don't get me wrong, it's a good cause and everything, but why the homeless?"
Garrett could feel her jolt of surprise over the phone. There was a long pause, then she explained in a stilted tone, "You know how I told you the whole town found out about my mom and Chase? Well, let's just say they weren't particularly accommodating after that. I left town the morning of my graduation with nothing but a bus ticket and my clothes. Of course, I had my savings account and credit cards, but once my dad learned I was gone, he canceled my cards and froze my account. I think he assumed if I had no money I'd come crawling back home."
She chuckled humorlessly, her bitterness coming across loud and clear. "People say home is where the heart is. Well, any kind of heart my family had, left a long time ago. So instead, I stayed in homeless shelters and hostels when I could afford them."
Dismayed, he sat up so fast his pillow tumbled to the ground. "You were homeless?"
"Just when I was desperate." She said it matter of factly as if she hadn't just rocked his world.
"Did you ever have to live on the street?"
"I had a few close calls, but I was lucky it never came to that. In fact, there was this one time in a little town on the outskirts of the Mojave Desert.
I had gotten a job at a gas station but couldn't afford a motel, and the nearest homeless shelter was twenty miles away. I thought for sure I'd have to sleep behind the dumpster of the gas station, but the manager took pity on me and brought me to his mom who fostered kids. She took me in, fed me, and let me sleep on the couch in her garage."
The affection in her voice was unmistakable. Garrett imagined a sweet smile on her face as she remembered. "That's a home that had heart. And the kids that lived with her were wonderful. I felt part of a family again."
He thought of the brightly colored cards she received in the mail that day at the Depot and wondered if the children had sent them. "Do you still keep in touch?" he asked.
"I try to call at least once a week, and I send them treats, you know, candy and stuff when I can."
"What did your dad say when you never came home?"
A thread of anger weaved into her voice."Nothing. I've only heard from his lawyers. As soon as school started, he unfroze everything. Even gave me a monthly allowance, but I haven't touched the money. It feels wrong. Like I'm a dirty secret he's trying to pay off."
"I'm sorry."
"Life, right?" she asked dryly.
No, it wasn't life. It was her parents. Sure, life could be unfair, but this went past unfair. It was cruel.
Garrett texted Arianne.
Garrett: What are you up to?
Arianne: Just got done with a study session.
Garrett rolled his eyes. Arianne was the worst texter. She either answered in one-word answers or never expanded past what was required. He swore she had a word counter built in that wouldn't let her text past a certain amount.
Garrett: Want to meet up?
Arianne: Heading to the lower quad caf with Morgan.
He was surprised when another text popped up.
Arianne: Come with us ;)
It had to be Morgan. Arianne never met an emoji she liked.
Garrett: Meet you in front of the caf.
Then just to be ornery, he texted her a bunch of random emojis. Her answer? A GIF giving him the middle finger.
He chuckled as he pocketed his phone. She couldn't stand emojis, but somehow GIFs were a godsend. That kind of logic was so...so...Arianne. It should have driven him mad, but he enjoyed the contradictions. He hadn't realized how stale his life had become until her. Her every word a burst of color, splattering his world with vibrancy. It rejuvenated him. Made him want to jump out of bed every morning and live.
His mother noticed the difference. During their last call, she'd asked if he'd been doing anything differently recently. He had to bite his tongue not to blurt the truth. As much as he would have loved to share Arianne, he knew his mom would have reservations and demand he consult Dr. Shinn. Normally, Garrett wouldn't have a problem with that, but he didn't want anything or anyone to jeopardize what he was building with Arianne. And not to brag or anything, but he was building something epic.
He'd gotten into the habit of texting her people's descriptions like what she wrote in her notebooks. Then she would text back a color she thought would fit. When he first started, he worried he'd be bored, but he found he enjoyed it. Not only did he learn about unusual colors, but he was always on the hunt for that one person who could stump her.
Gus called his name and ran to catch up to him. "What are you up to?" Gus asked, slapping him on the back so hard Garrett pitched forward. "Whoa," Gus exclaimed, righting him. "Sorry 'bout that. Pumped about B-Bash." His round face and flushed cheeks paired with his red and white jacket made him look like a young and very fit Saint Nick. "So what are you up to?"
Garrett looked around in surprise but didn't see Jordan. Suspicious, he said, "I'm meeting with some friends in the lower quad."
"I'll go with you. I'm heading in that direction too."
Garrett kept his mouth shut, sensing Gus had sought him out for a reason. They didn't take more than twenty steps when Gus asked, "So what were you smiling about earlier with your phone? A girl?"
A huge grin spread across Garrett's face at the mere thought of Arianne. Gus nudged him playfully. "You dog! Who is she? You taking her to B-Bash?"
Crap. Harmony was best friends with Gus' girlfriend. Was this a reconnaissance mission to figure out his availability? "Yeah. It's a volunteer from the Cardboard Under the Stars event. I asked her that night."
"Oh. Harmony's going to be bummed. She was hoping you'd ask her."
He decided to lay it out for Gus in hopes he'd pass it along to Harmony. "Honestly, I'm really into this girl, and I don't see that ending anytime soon. I'm sorry about Harmony, but..."
Gus waved him off. "I get it. When it's not there, it's not there. Can't push it."
Garrett jetted out a relieved breath. "Exactly. I know you're friends with her so maybe you can give her a nudge in the right direction." He didn't want to hurt Harmony, but she needed to get the hint. Enough was enough.
Gus patted his shoulder, his hand engulfing Garrett's back. He should have been a football player. He had the hands for it, and he was built like a jolly giant. "I'll make sure she understands."
"Thanks, man."
"Hey, Coach told me he's going to try you out in the next game," said Gus.
"I hope you don't mind." After his talk with Jordan, he realized what he was stealing from Gus. Well, not necessarily stealing as Gus was more the back-up to the back-up, but still. Garrett was taking away game time Gus might have had.
Gus shrugged. "Wasn't like I was getting to play much anyway with Jordan on a roll. I bet you're nervous though. I would be if I were you. I mean what if you choke again? It could determine if you play or not next year."
Thanks for putting it in perspective. Not like I wasn't nervous already.
Gus seemed to realize his mistake and backtracked. "But I'm sure you'll be fine. If you ever want to throw some pitches around, get in an extra practice, let me know."
"I might take you up on that." No matter how well Garrett was pitching, he would always welcome an extra set of eyes.
"Word of advice?" Gus said, throwing an arm over Garrett and pulling him close like he departing a state secret. "Don't listen to the guys on the team. It's just locker room talk. You're not a washout. Prove to them you're as good as the hype." Gus ruffled Garrett's hair like he was a child then released him with a hearty clap.
Garrett's stomach twisted as his ulcer flared. It was possibly the worst pep talk in history, but Garrett forced a smile and took it like a champ because what else could he do? Gus meant well, but he was no Coach Gaines in Friday Night Lights. But Garrett had to admit, Gus was right especially about the pitching. If he messed screwed up again, he'd end up on the bench next year and possibly the year after that. Suddenly, the self-assurance he'd been sporting dwindled and he wondered if he truly was ready.
When they arrived at the lower quad, Garrett scanned the area. His chest seized when he saw Arianne giggling as she animated something with her hands to Morgan. Doubts about his pitching fled as he watched her throw a long, messy braid over a shoulder and laugh with abandonment. He didn't have to worry about tomorrow or the next. He needed to concentrate on today and the girl who made his dreams fly.
"Which one's your girl?" Gus asked.
"The one with the glasses."
February had melted into March, and the first buds of spring were starting to bloom. The guys on the team called warm days like today "Skirt Day" because the girls on campus wore short skirts or dresses. But not Arianne. She defied convention at every turn. Today in what he deemed "Ari-wear," she wore a black fitted vest—the kind that came with suits—over a white elbow length tee, and paired it with grey pleated shorts, knee-high socks, and her signature motorcycle boots.
As they approached, Gus waved hello. "Arianne, right? I'm Gus." Arianne looked as puzzled as Garrett. Gus explained, "Jordan mentioned you. You teach his meditation classes at the gym."
Arianne sent him a hesitant smile. "I had no idea Jordan talks about me."
"He's been after me to go. Not really my thing." Gus chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry."
"It's not for everyone."
"I better go. My girlfriend's waiting." Gus lifted a hand as he walked backwards. "Nice meeting you, Arianne. See you at B-Bash. Later, Saint."
"Guess I'm chopped liver," Morgan grumbled as they walked to the cafeteria.
Garrett opened the door, letting the girls go through. "Don't take it personally. Gus isn't the most...mindful...individual."
"Is any male?" Morgan teased.
Garrett glared. "Hey, I'm right here."
Morgan winked at Arianne. "Oh, I'm very aware."
Garrett motioned for Arianne to defend him, but she laughed and patted his cheek before getting into line.
When they sat down, Arianne frowned at his tray. "That's all you're eating?" she asked, looking at his measly pile of carrots and fruit.
"I had dinner with the team."
"You should have told me. We could have eaten somewhere else instead so you didn't use your meal points."
"I don't mind." He'd use a thousand points if it meant being around Arianne. "So what was your study session for?"
They chatted about their classes and then got onto the topic of majors. Arianne was undecided, and Morgan wanted to be a dentist of all things. He tried to keep the conversation off of him, but Morgan always managed to turn it around and make it an inquisition. Part of him wondered if she was doing it on her own or at Arianne's request.
"So Garrett, I've been dying to know what are you?" Morgan asked, turning that sharp gaze onto him.
He fiddled with his fork. "What do you mean?"
"What ethnicity are you?"
He hated this question, but undoubtedly his parents hated it ten times more. Both of them were orphans. His dad had been left in a garbage can in back of a restaurant when he was a baby, umbilical cord and all, while his mom had been picked up during a drug raid when she was six. Her mom, or his grandma he supposed though he used that term with scorn, had died three weeks later on an overdose and no one knew the sperm donor. Probably another junkie.
Neither had been adopted, both thrust in the system and forgotten about until they aged out. They didn't talk about those times, choosing to keep them locked away in a private vault, but he remembered as a child asking why he didn't have grandparents like the other kids. His dad explained they didn't know where his grandparents were but they were bad people and better off not knowing. Garrett had thrown a huge temper tantrum because he wanted grandparents like his friend AJ who had given him a brand new bike. It was the only time his mother had ever hit him. She'd been horrified after, her eyes tormented with memories, and she locked herself in her room, refusing to come out for days.
He never brought up his grandparents after that, or anything else relating to his parents' background. But sometimes late at night he and Spencer would discuss them, making up stories like they were secretly descendants of a king who was trying evade rebels, or pirates who had died at sea trying to recover lost treasure.
Garrett shrugged. "I'm not sure what I am. The most my parents can guess is I'm part African American, European, and maybe some Latino?"
Morgan's eyes widened. "How can you not be sure?"
"My parents didn't know their parents." Arianne peered at him curiously, and he wondered what she was thinking.
"Both of them? That's so sad," Morgan cried.
"I didn't know that," Arianne murmured. Again with that peculiar expression. It had the hairs on the back of Garrett's neck standing on edge.
Morgan cut into her burrito and ate a piece. He'd never seen someone use a fork and knife on a burrito before and it was weird. "You should do one of those ancestry DNA tests. My parents did and found a few skeletons lingering in the closet. Let's just say there's more than one adulterer in the family tree."
Arianne flinched ever so slightly, trying to cover it up by taking a sip of her drink. Garrett would have missed it if he hadn't been watching her so closely. He wanted to rail on Morgan. How could her friend be so callous?
"My parents don't care about those sorts of things," he muttered, stabbing a carrot.
"Don't you want to know?" Morgan pressed. "It's who you are. It's your history."
"And some histories need to stay in the past. What my grandparents or their parents before them have done doesn't define me. We are not our parents." Before Morgan could argue, he steered the conversation to another topic.
Arianne looked up at him beneath those black lashes, her mouth soft and pliable. "Thank you," she whispered loud enough for only him to hear.
That's when he realized Morgan didn't know about Arianne's history. He'd been the only one she confided in. He should have been thrilled with the news, but something in Arianne's demeanor held him back. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but it unsettled him. A lot.
*Bonus* Describe this story using ONLY emojis. Go!