Strike One

Chapter Four - Don’t be a Party Pooper

Whitneys Point of View:

I’m only going because the girls are making me, otherwise - the party scene is just not my thing. Especially after being hit by a drunk driver. I just, it’s hard for me to really get into that scene is all. I told myself i wouldn’t deprive myself of experiencing college life though, so… here we go.

I hate dorm showers. I truly hate them. I don’t love the aspect of community showers - and knowing that there is someone else naked right on the other side of the curtain - its just alarming and very much out of my own personal comfort zone, but again - I’m in college and need to find out who the real me is.

After showering, I headed back to my dorm room. I requested an individual room, only because I still tend to cry at night and I still want that personal time to continue my grieving - my counselor thought it was a good idea too. Heading back to my room in my towel, I walked past who I believed to be the football team, and immediately regretted not letting my mother purchase me a robe after all. Each and every single eyeball is on me… in my towel. Great.

I escaped into my room and immediately closed the door and slid down behind me. This day has been incredibly eventful and I’ve had my full of stimulus but, the party must go on.

I get dressed in some straight-legged jeans and a cute aqua short sleeve shirt. I have long blonde hair with darker roots and incredibly green eyes. I lightly curl the ends of my hair into wavy beach strands, add some chapstick and I'm ready to go. I headed down the hall to Abi’s room. Abi is a junior on the team and our current starting first baseman. She is and has been incredibly kind since the day I met her.

When I arrive at her room and open the door, she is dressed to impress, she looks at me and giggles. “You’re not going to get dolled up,” she asks. I laugh, “I have no one to impress, besides - this is the real me. I’ve truly never worn much makeup other than mascara and some light eye shadow. But, I truly like to dress comfortably - otherwise, what’s the point of wearing clothes? Am I right?” We both laughed. I made a valid point.

Abi has on a tight little red dress that if she were to bend over I’m a hundred percent sure I would see her ass. I laugh to myself and wonder why we as women feel the need to get this dolled up in order to impress others. I’m truly a feminist, but I believe I shouldn’t have to paint myself up for others to look at me, appreciate me or give me the time of day.

Abi and I gather a couple of the other girls and walk over to the baseball house for the shin dig. Along the way, I hear a couple of the girls talk about a handful of the guys on the team. I truly only remember one of the guys' names and only because it was so strange - Suchy. The girls all seemed to be crazy over him. Apparently, he is really good and was drafted later than he wanted and so he declined his offer in order to go to college to get his degree before going to the big leagues. I find that admirable. I mean - in a way, it's a cop out if that is truly what he is after, but in the same instance, I understand wanting to get your degree for the same reason my father did - he got injured and fell back on his accounting degree.

I hear a couple of other upper-class's baseball players'names and truly don’t remember any of them from earlier in the day. The girls are all trying to insist I talk to some of the guys and get to know them. I agreed and said, I am here to make friends but nothing more. They all laughed. It was true though, I had no plans on getting into anything serious. I’m here to get recognition and be on the USA Olympic team, as well as to achieve my degree in criminal justice. I have too many goals to focus on men right now.

I am not opposed to dating. I never really had a guy that wasn’t into me for, well, me. They typically were only interested in meeting my father, the MLB player, or my mom, the judge. Making friends wasn’t always easy either, everyone seemed to always want something or need something. I do have an incredibly good friend back in Wisconsin named Taylor. She was a couple of years older than me though and when my father died she did everything she could from a distance as she was attending college at UCLA in California, but we sort of grew apart. Not out of spite, but just out of distance. We still talk frequently but we are not as close as we used to be.

I dated a couple of guys throughout high school but nothing ever stuck. To be honest, most men were intimidated by me and being better at sports than them. I always found that entertaining but they, of course, did not. I never saw a future or wanted to see anything more than a date to prom or the Christmas dance - and they, well, they always wanted more. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve been told, “I love you”. It’s quite hilarious when i look back at my high school career - the reason none of those guys told me they loved me was they just wanted to be closer to the legend that was my father, even if he only played for one season.

I want what my parents had. My father met my mother while playing in the big ten tournament at the University of Wisconsin where she was there reporting for her college newspaper. She thought about becoming a writer at one point - but, it turns out, she is better at verbally explaining items rather than writing them. My father adored my mother, worshipped her. After his death, my mom tried so incredibly hard to be strong for me, but she thankfully has found a therapist that she is working with. I say that because mother has been a empty glass box since the accident. She was and has been so incredibly fragile, and yet so incredibly strong - for me that is. I admire my mother, but I’m truly grateful she is getting the help she needs to learn to cope with the hardship of losing your best friend, life partner and father of your child.

I miss being near my mother, but if I’m being honest, I think this is good for both of us right now. Finding ourselves after such a horrific accident, maybe, is exactly what we need to become whole again. I don’t know if my mom will ever re-marry, but she and my father seemed like soulmates, if there is such a thing. But, if I could have a love like that- perhaps it would change my outlook on my future. Maybe, the Olympics will become #2 in my life to someone else.

After all that thinking, we arrive at the baseball team's house and all the girls look at one another and check to see if they have lipstick on their teeth or if their hair is messed up. Me, on the other hand, walked right in. I start waving to a couple of the other softball players who are in the entrance and make my way toward the kitchen where there is usually a good scene to take in.

When I rounded the corner, I bumped into a very athletic man, he was taller than me and it took me only two seconds to realize he was the guy that was making eyes at me earlier and that it wasn’t the Suchy kid. I just for the life of me cannot remember his name.

He turns around and looks down at me, places a brilliant smile on his face and introduces himself as Chandler and shakes my hand. I too informed him of my name and he asked if I wanted to grab some water and go watch the guys play spike ball in the back yard.

I looked at him confused, because - what is spike ball? He clearly sees I have no idea what that is and laughs and places his hand on the small of my back, leading me to grab some water out of the cooler and we head out to the backyard.

Why am I ok with having his hand on my back, and why did i agree to do anything with someone I just met? I feel like I should be hanging out with the softball girls, but i really want to know what spike ball is, and Chandler, well, he seems nice enough!