Page 8 of Chasing Headlines
“Yes, sir,” I said with a small sigh.Has the reports. Asks anyway.
“Keeping your nose clean. Doing what you've been asked to do.”
“Ordered to do.”Not asked.
“Sure, that, too.” He narrowed his eyes at me. Wasn't quite a glare, almost like he was squinting, in need of glasses. He held up the folder. “You've not kept up as well with your community service hours.”
I swallowed against a burning sensation in my throat.Fuck me.“It's hard to find time. But I'm committed to doing the work.”
“Welp, son. Hate to break this to you, but you've got yourself a deadline, or you could be ordered back to court.”
I closed my eyes and bit back a groan.
“Now, I get it.” He tilted his head and made a tsk sound out of the corner of his mouth.
“No, you don't. I'm required to take a full course load to qualify for my scholarship. I can't skip practice. I can't skip my mandatory anger management sessions. Then there's these fun-filled check-ins. Required team study sessions. And no one offers verifiable community service hours overnight.”Fuck fuck fuck!
The stone-faced deputy had one hell of a resting bitch face. Squinty eyes, balding head. Did they teach that somewhere? In sheriff school? I needed to work on mine.
“. . . a place like this . . . can't really argue. But I did some checking with some folks I know.”
I bit back a groan and fought the rising sense of panic. I needed to turn things around with this probation nightmare if I was going to have any chance at draft status next year.Just keep out of trouble. Play their stupid game.
“Are you listening to me, Mr. Cooper?”
I straightened. The chair creaked and scooted beneath me. “Yes, sir.”
“Your probation may be inconvenient, but it's nothing to joke about. The way I understand things, son, you're lucky to be in this here situation . . .”
His voice continued, but I really couldn't take another lecture.Yeah, lucky.I was aware that based on the sudden hairpin-turn my life took last year, I was beyond fortunate to be in “this here situation.” But it was hard to feel it when everything inside me screamed I belonged with the Silverbacks in Triple A. Playing my guts out. Praying for my chance to suit up in a Sabers uniform.
And I'd had a solid chance. Till a fuckin’ reporter got in my face.Soul-sucking bastard.
“. . . playing at Victory Tech's an exalted opportunity. Our university . . .” Deputy Reegan's voice faded away again.
I ran a hand over my forehead.Exalted? Sounds like a crazed booster.
“Mr. Cooper?”
“Yes sir. I did.” I looked up, tried to focus. “Really lucked out to be here.”
“I know the town don't look like much to city folk. But, with the student population, Couronne County's in the top fifty most populous in the state . . .”
Ugh, not another tour of this place. The great metropolis of Vanquer, Texas. I wasn't given a choice, but if I had to go to college at all, well. Compared to places like UCLA and Chicago Centennial, this dustbowl was a bizarre backdrop for an internationally-ranked sports powerhouse. But no one could argue their reputation was top notch with over a hundred national championships throughout the decades—from football to swimming. Walking through the trophy room during my rushed “recruitment visit”, had been nothing short of awe-inspiring. No doubt that's what sells the place to so many top athletes year after year.Definitely not the weather . . . or all this sand.
Vanquer had tumbleweed sightings and live armadillos. Who’d ever seen a live armadillo? They looked like overgrown rats. I sighed and leaned forward in my chair. This was Texas. A state so large, it had a half dozen top tier universities, and wasn't afraid to build one in the middle of a desert.Could've been worse. It's not the one next to a prison.
I shot a glance at the still-lecturing probation officer. What a pain. I pinched my thigh and seethed to keep from rolling my eyes.
I scanned his office again. The clock on the wall hadn't ticked off much time. I needed to get out of here. Freshman baseball camp would start soon. Morning training sessions, afternoon camp. I didn't justneedit, I craved it, thirsted for it.My body was tired of this cramped, always-on sense of tension and anxiety. Almost like I could feel my muscle fiber begin to atrophy. My quickness, agility, coordination slipping away.
All. Summer. Long.
I adjusted in my chair. A picture of Deputy Reegan’s kid caught my eye—on the far side of his desk. She grinned at the camera, hair tossed about. A half-melted popsicle in her grasp. Orange goo dripping down her chin.
A twinge of something I didn't have a name for—it pulled at me. Carved a hole out of my chest and filled it with lead.
That hadn’t been my life.