Senior Year Box Set

This train was about to go off the tracks, so I decided to get the conversation back under control.

“Why don’t we ask Tracy if we can throw a barbecue at her lake house?” I asked.

“I like that idea,” Phil said.

“You can’t go,” Jill told her … I wasn’t sure what … boyfriend?

“Why not?” Phil asked.

“You’re not a senior,” Dare answered.

“Oh,” was Phil’s witty comeback.

“I’ll talk to Tracy. Who’ll organize everything?” Pam asked.

I decided they could all die, as far as I was concerned, when they turned and waited for me to take the lead. Then I remembered I had people who worked for me. I would call Lexi and let her figure it out. It would give her an excuse to not have to work for her psycho client, Chloe Larkin.

“Because I owe Cassidy a favor, I’ll do it,” I said.

“Hey,” Cassidy complained.

“Did you tell them your big news?” I asked Cassidy and then turned to the table before she could stop me. I wanted to make sure she couldn’t back out of going to USC. “Cassidy got a scholarship to be on the USC rowing team.”

“We’ll be roommates?” Pam asked excitedly.

“The rowing team? What does she know about rowing?” Dare asked, raising the obvious question.

“Want to tell me about the drones?” I fired back, and when he didn’t seem to want to follow up, I added, “Dare got a hickey.”

Chaos ensued when everyone had questions about the multitude of different topics that had been presented and that we hadn’t gotten a chance to discuss yet. We didn’t have any actual dirt most days, but we hadn’t seen each other in a week.

I had a twinge of guilt for my role in this when the voice of Chrissy, Dare’s significant other, pierced through the mayhem.

“What hickey!?”

Everyone stopped and looked at Dare.

“David …” Dare started and then looked at me for help.

“On my flight home, I was told I should start my own rock band and name it ‘Heavy Meddle.’ It looks like my work here is done,” I said and saw that Gina had a satisfied smile.

Usually, she considered it her job to stir the pot.

As though I’d planned it, the bell rang. Sometimes it was better to be lucky than good.

On the way out of the cafeteria, I explained to Chrissy that I’d made the whole story up to save Dare’s butt for passing notes in math class. Dare and I were both shocked when she offered to give him an actual hickey so he would have some cover. He suddenly decided my ill-conceived ruse was genius. Funny how his perspective changed.

◊◊◊

After school, I was in one of the coaches’ conference rooms with Moose, Coach Haskins, and my dad.

“I told David that while he was on spring break, I would look into how to make him safe on the ball field. I made a lot of calls to a variety of people, and we came up with an assortment of ideas, many of which we discarded. We also uncovered another problem concerning umpires and officials.

“It seems they’re being abused at an alarming rate. Remember the game where the parents attacked the umpire?” Dad asked.

We all nodded.

“This is becoming a thing, and what we witnessed wasn’t an isolated instance. Similar confrontations have happened all over the state,” Dad shared.

“How has it become okay to do something like that?” Coach Haskins asked.

“That’s a much bigger question, and I’m not sure how we fix it,” Dad said and then got us back on track. “I have a draft of a letter the state High School Athletic Association is sending to every school and official who works a sporting event, like umpires in baseball.”

Dad handed out copies.

The letter basically said safety at sporting events was something that would be taken seriously. Included was a litany of items, including protection of fans, players, and officials from any kind of abuse or physical harm. It specifically listed intentionally throwing at opposing players. This wasn’t the major leagues, this was high school ball, and they wouldn’t stand for it.

The letter went on to say that each school district had to hold a meeting where all volunteers, hired officials, coaches, and athletic department personnel attended. Someone from the state police would be in attendance to explain the current laws on the books that applied. And further, that the state police would be available to be at games if the district decided it was warranted.

The letter made it clear they were serious. They’d gotten the governor, the director of the state police, the attorney general, and the High School Athletic Association director to all sign it.

“That is the warning, but it doesn’t help if someone decides to throw at David anyway,” Moose said.

“I called Devin Range, and he has something for you,” Dad said as he grabbed a duffle bag out from under the table.

He pulled out a new helmet and what looked like a bodysuit, similar to a wetsuit I would wear diving. The suit reminded me of a mouse pad in that it had a slightly rough outer layer but had some give to it.

“Does this have the orange goo in it?” I asked.

Devin had given me gloves with the stuff to try at the last photo shoot I did for them. You could punch a wall, and your hand would be protected.