Page 6 of The Change Up
“Oh!” I shout during the next commercial break. “My dad called today. He is arranging for us to have a girls’ weekend at this spa where he’s opening a new restaurant.”
“Dude, your dad is freaking awesome,” Brynn says with a sigh. “Can he adopt me?”
“Have you finally let the crush on my dad go?”
“Hell no. He’s still a Daddy.”
“Oh my gosh, Brynn!”
“Whatever, you know your dad is hot.”
I roll my eyes before scrolling through my emails. There’s a lot riding on this semester. This is my fifth semester on the campus newspaper staff, and it’s the one class that I really love. All of my classes are great, but there’s just something about getting the hands-on experience of writing for an actual newspaper. The assignments for the semester are supposed to be emailed out any day now which has my phone glued to my hand.
“What’s got you so focused on your phone?”
“I’m waiting on an email from the professor of the newspaper staff.”
“An email with your assignment for the semester?” she asks, curiosity painting her face.
I blow a deep breath out and toss my phone aside. “Yeah. I’m really hoping I get assigned the lead on the lifestyle beat. It’d be the closest to getting more in-depth practice for post-college.”
Brynn pauses the TV before shifting her entire focus to me.
“You’ve got this, babe. Seriously, you’re insanely talented. I mean you are obsessed with words. You’re the biggest bookworm I know. Not to mention, I love reading everything you write, and you know I don’t like to read. You have a passion for the written word. Every article you write puts the reader in the scene.”
“Thanks, Brynn Brynn.”
“Anytime, Chlo Chlo. Now can we please get back to the Tom and Katie drama?”
Brynn’s right, I’ve got this.
This is my semester.
My year.
There’s a crisp aroma in the air.
It’s the smell of freshly mowed grass, raked clay, and worn-in leather.
It’s the smell of determination, hard work, and passion.
Spring baseball season is officially here. But baseball never sleeps, especially with fall ball league and winter conditioning.
This weekend is our first tournament which means The Spring Showcase is upon us. This tournament is the first chance we get to show everyone that Central Texas University means business this season. Any motherfucker that gets in our way better watch out.
“Jacobs!” Coach Callan Weber yells as he makes his way up the steps of the dugout. Tilting my head from side to side, I enjoy the creaks and cracks the bones make. It’s a warm day for January. Even though Texas doesn’t get much break for the winter, it’s still unseasonably warm.
With a nod, I address him. “Yes, Coach?”
“Elbow still treating you good?” His eyes are hidden behind reflective lenses, but I can feel them boring into me, reading me, looking for any hints that I’m lying. Lucky for me, my elbow has been feeling great.
“It’s feeling great, sir. Ready for this weekend.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear. Keep an eye on it. I don’t need you going all tough guy on us this season. Jacobs, we know you’re resilient, but I’m going to need you one hundred percent. If it starts to bother you, get it checked out.”
I nod my head in response. At the end of last season, I was pitching one of our last games and felt a sharp pain shoot through my arm. I thought it was the famous “Tommy John” injury, most often a tear to the ulnar collateral ligament. Thankfully, it was just a slight tear in the ligament and wasn’t anything that a minor surgery and some physical therapy couldn’t fix. But the scare has everyone on high alert, making sure that it’s not a full Tommy John injury.
“Throw a few.” Coach Weber directs me. Standing on the dirt mound, I get into position on the rubber. My body goes into auto-drive as I follow the same routine I do before every pitch. I kick my left foot back and forth in the dirt until I have it smoothed out where I want it to be. I lean my body forward, bending at my hips, bringing my gloved hand up to cover my mouth. Squinting to read the hand signal Nolan—my catcher—gives me. I shake my head—one, two, three times—before nodding in agreement.
