Chapter 23: Thad

Chapter 23

Thad

The following week, as I settle in with one of my roommates and a beer to watch the next game where Kelley’s pitching, I kinda hope Philly loses. It’s not that I want Kelley to lose. I want him to be the one to reach out to me first. Even if it’s only a quick text thread like we had last night. Even if it’s only to say he’s tired and is going to bed. I want him to make the first move, and I’ve given him the perfect opportunity to. You know, if they lose.

I’m a terrible human being.

The coverage opens with commentators spouting their usual bullshit before the game starts. They speculate who looks good this season and note those they think are going to have a tough time. I ignore them until they say Kelley’s name.

“He’s had a bit of a rocky start.”

“Definitely looked shaky anytime he’s played.”

No, he fucking didn’t. He looked good out there. Plus, he’s played once. I don’t see them picking on the team’s other starting pitchers, like when Briar Warrick let in home run after home run yesterday.

The game Kelley has played was good. It wasn’t outstanding, but he did really well. He was confident out there, and they won.

These know-it-all wannabes can go touch grass.

“Hey, isn’t Kelley that guy your firm reps?” Josh asks.

“Yep.”

“The one you had to babysit?”

“Yep.”

“What’s he like?”

I turn to my roommate. “What’s with the twenty questions?”

Josh shrugs. “It’s cool, you know? Out baseball player and all that. Could’ve been us had we not been so shit.”

“At least you still play baseball.”

“Yeah, and look at what I have to do so I can.”

Because Josh’s baseball season is so short and pays next to nothing, he’s been floating from part-time job to part-time job throughout the rest of the year. I understand why he does it in a way, because I would’ve done almost anything to keep the baseball dream alive for me, but it’s not a possibility when I have debts and bills to pay.

Realistically, I have no idea how Josh will do with baseball, and if you look at statistics, his body will only hold out for, what, five years if he’s lucky? Baseball might have been worth it for him, but it wasn’t for me. I gave myself until I graduated college to be at the level I needed to be at, and I couldn’t cut it.

Josh is more stubborn than me, I suppose.

“Where are you working these days?” I ask.

“Uh … I’d rather not say.” He looks away.

“Strip club. Got it.”

He throws a couch cushion at me. “It’s worse than that. It’s dressing up as Batman for kids’ birthday parties.”

I suck my lips inward to try to stop the laugh from escaping.

“It’s every bit as horrible as it sounds.”

“Do you only do Batman? Or, you know, what if they wanted Spider-Man? Or Thor?”

“Once I can afford the costumes, I’ll add to my repertoire.” He says that like he has any chance of keeping this job for longer than a few weeks. I almost feel like once he has enough money to live off for a month, he quits whatever job he’s doing and then repeats that step the following month.

He’s going to run out of jobs soon .

Sean enters the apartment in a rush. “Did I miss first pitch?”

“Nope. Haven’t even sung the national anthem yet,” I say.

“Awesome.” Sean throws himself on the couch in between Josh and me, and I regret not sitting in the solo armchair.

We’re really close, but do we have to be physically close too?

Again, the commentators on the TV say something about Kelley Afton needing to up his game.

“Fuck off,” I mumble at the TV. “Like he doesn’t have enough pressure on him already. I’m going to text Onri and tell him to tell those fucksticks at his work to maybe not pick on the gay dude.”

“He doesn’t even work for that network,” Josh says.

“Don’t care. He can pass on the message.” I pick up my phone and see a slew of notifications.

Kelley:

I know we said I’d only text you if I lost, but I thought that was putting bad karma into the world.

Oh fuck, what if me texting you has now forced fate’s hand and will cause us to lose?

I take it back.

You saw nothing.

He messaged me first when he didn’t have to, but now I’m doubly invested in this game, and instead of wishing him to lose, I really hope that he wins, or he may never message me again.

When I look up again, my roommates are staring at me. Josh looks confused, his brow furrowed, and Sean’s mouth hangs open in shock.

“What?” I ask.

“We thought you hated Kelley Afton,” Sean says.

“I do. I mean, I did. He’s not so bad once I got to know him.”

“When you say got to know him …” Josh asks with all the subtlety of a drag queen in a church.

“I’d lose my job if I went there.” Yet, I did it anyway. And would jump at the chance to do it again .

I’m in trouble when it comes to Kelley. That one chain of slightly unhinged messages has me fucking giddy.

“Your mouth is saying words, but your face is saying something else,” Sean says.

I turn to him. “Did you know Joshy is getting paid to dress up as Batman for kids’ parties?”

Josh gives me the finger, but I’ve successfully diverted their attention away from me and Kelley.

That is until he takes to the pitcher’s mound.

“Damn. No wonder you like his … personality.” Josh’s mouth is begging to be punched.

“I’d do him,” Sean says.

“Aww, Sean-y. I can get you his number if you want.” I sip my beer to hide my amusement because Sean likes to act like he’s all cool with Josh and me being gay by making jokes like that, but we know he’s not serious.

“Pass.”

Yup. Just as I thought.

“What about me?” Josh asks.

“Not on your life.” Like hell I’d give any of my roommates Kelley’s number for real.

They’re both smug, as if I’ve shown my hand, but I don’t care too much. I might not be able to date him, but Kelley’s mine to quietly obsess over, thank you very much. As soon as they win, I head to my room and text him how great his ass looked again.

After having six home games, Philly has a six-day road trip. Kelley and I continue to text, even if I only get the chance to check a couple of scores instead of watching because I’ve been staying late in the office.

We remain flirty, but it hasn’t gone into sexting territory. They’re mostly congratulatory messages if his team wins or him wishing I didn’t see how he was replaced with a reliever for fucking up one too many pitches on the game he pitched .

But that’s the sport. Highs and lows, wins and losses. He has nothing to be embarrassed about.

As for me, I’ve been trying to come up with ideas that will help me build my client list. I’m not even sure if Damon will assign me to a client, considering I’m only an intern, but I figure if I can bring in new clients, Damon will let me oversee their accounts, kind of like Brady is doing with Kelley and the other guy on his roster.

I’ve been researching every up-and-comer that I can find, from high school players to college and everything in between. I’ve even been checking the Double-A and Triple-A leagues. They will have had agents when they signed their contracts, but in those types of cases, a lot of them pay an hourly rate instead of a percentage of their contract. That’s what Josh did. If I could find someone who has the potential to go far, they could be my golden ticket.

I not only look at their baseball stats but also their online presence to see if they have bookmarked any pages on their public profile that could be problematic. I won’t bother with anyone who blatantly has anti-LGBTQ views.

A lot of profiles appear to be locked down though, and I would assume if these players are looking for a contract, they’d have better sense than to spout bullshit on the internet. I do find some doozies though.

Instant nos.

When I come across a hopeful player from my own hometown who has the same coach I did in high school and has the potential to get drafted in his upcoming senior year, I don’t hesitate to reach out to Coach Klein and see if I can come by the school for a visit. I don’t need to tell him what I’m doing now or why I’m there. It’ll be put down as a simple visit to my alma mater.

And while I’m at it, I might check Philly’s schedule and see when they next play at home.

When Coach Klein tells me he’s available this Friday and it just so happens Kelley’s team is at home this weekend, I want to jump at the chance. But before I can look up tickets to Kelley’s game, I have to clear it with Damon to take Friday afternoon away from the office.

I’m nervous because this is stepping outside of what I’ve been told to do. It’s true he has encouraged us to start scouting and trying to find the right client for ourselves, but scouting and approaching are two completely different things. Though, it’s not like I’m going to pounce on this kid and force him to sign anything.

I make my way to Damon’s office and knock with more hesitance than I’d like. I need to go in here confident.

He looks up from his desk, his more-gray-than-black hair shimmering in the overhead lights. The graying look suits him. Maybe too much. He’s already intimidating enough as it is; the whole silver-fox vibe makes him more so.

When I was at Olmstead University, he gave the commencement speech for the graduating class the year before me. He went to Newport, but his husband—and I use that term loosely because they’ve never actually gotten legally married—is Olmstead alumni. I was watching some of my teammates graduate, and from the second he started speaking, I was entranced. He claimed that every silver hair he had was named after one of his clients but that he wouldn’t change it for anything. He said things happen for a reason, and had he not blown out his shoulder and had to give up baseball, he wouldn’t be where he was. He said he was happier than he ever could’ve imagined.

It might have been that moment that I started to realize I was never going to make it in baseball. His backup plan to become an agent suddenly became mine too. Because if Damon King could do it and go on to make an entire empire, then I could go on to find happiness too.

“What can I do for you?” Damon asks.

I enter his office, and he gestures for me to sit. I fidget with the edges of Rylan McAlister’s file, which is hot in my hands. “So, I know you’ve said we should do our own research and scouting for clients, but you haven’t explicitly said what we should do if we find one. This guy goes to my old high school, has the same coach as I did, and he looks like a promising draft pick next year.”

Damon holds out his hand to take the file, and I almost don’t want to hand it over in case he puts someone else on it.

So, as I pass it over, I add, “I’ve set up to go meet my old coach this Friday afternoon and watch the team’s practice?—”

Damon’s head snaps up, and I find myself backpedaling.

“But I didn’t tell him what I was going for or what I even do now. I just thought if I could see Rylan in person and introduce myself as a representative of the firm, then when the time comes, he might remember me.”

Damon breaks into a small smile. “I’m loving the initiative, and I’ll be happy to have you as a representative of the firm, but you’re not in a position to be signing your own clients yet.”

“I thought as much, but I was kind of hoping that if I did approach Rylan or anyone else I find that if they do end up coming to us and signing, that I could maybe shadow the agent on their case, like what Brady does?” Oh, no. I’m starting to ramble, and I can’t stop. “I know it’s different for him because he’s been interning here every summer and has more experience, the family background and all that, but I’m not asking to be their agent. I want to be involved in their case. If he or anyone else signs, I mean.”

Damon leans back in his seat, but his smile doesn’t waver. “This is the kind of enthusiasm I’ve been waiting to see from you.”

I hate that he’s been able to tell I’ve been holding myself back, but I can’t blame him. My face speaks my inside thoughts way too much. “I know it’s taken a bit for me to embrace my role here, but I’m finally learning to let baseball go and have it in my life a new way.”

“I understand that, probably more than anyone. Do you think you’re ready to accept seeing clients getting the kind of contracts you wanted? Because I have to tell you, that first one is going to sting like a bitch. Ask me how I know.” He has a point, and he understands more than anyone.

“I can’t say for sure until it happens, but that’s another reason why going to see Rylan could be good for me. Easing me in slowly.”

“I like this direction for you.” Now he leans forward, elbows on his desk. “I have to be honest, I was worried about you for a hot minute because I didn’t think you’d be able to let go of your bitterness, but I’m very happy to see you taking these steps. I’ll authorize the time away from the office to go see him, and make sure you email through how it goes and what you think of Rylan’s potential.”

“Will do.”

“Good work.”

I stand and leave his office feeling positive, and that’s something I don’t experience a lot.

When I get back to my desk, I lock in the day and time with Coach Klein and then go on one of those resale sites for a cheap last-minute ticket to Kelley’s game. Because people generally watch baseball with others, finding a cheap single seat that’s in a good spot is easy.

I want to text Kelley that I’m going to be at his game Friday night but refrain. I’d rather see his face when he finds me standing outside the players’ exit.

I’m itching to leave by the time it hits noon on Friday. I’ve been antsy all day, and I can’t be sure if it’s because I’m going on my first unofficial scouting trip on my own or if it’s because I’m going to see Kelley again.

Not that I’m expecting anything to happen because we’ve agreed to be friends, but if the opportunity arises, there’s no way I’m going to say no.

It would be smarter to keep everything platonic, but that ship sailed the minute we got naked together.

Because ever since that happened, all I’ve been able to think about is hooking up with him again. Being inside him. Hell, if I had time the day he came into the office, I would’ve taken him back to my place and blown him in the entryway whether my roommates were home or not. My level of desperation to get him back into bed only grows with each day that passes. Each text.

I think it’s safe to say it’s Kelley that has my gut tied in knots.

When it’s finally time for me to make my way home, I stand in such a rush that Brady flinches next to me .

“What the fuck, man?”

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh, right. Good luck with that Rylan kid.”

“Thanks.” I take off for the elevator, but Brady calls after me.

“Don’t throw coffee on him, and you’ll already be ahead of your last meeting with a client.”

The other interns snicker, because yes, that has been a nice piece of gossip going around the office. I decide to take the ever-professional route by flipping them off with both hands over my shoulders.

And just as I do that, Damon steps into the bullpen.

Of course.

“I wouldn’t do that to a prospective client either,” Damon says.

I cringe and go to apologize, but he laughs.

“You’re all good. I would’ve done the same.”

I seriously have the best boss ever.

The hour-long drive is a suckfest, turning into an almost two-hour drive, and I’m glad I left early because getting out of the city is a pain in the ass.

Pulling into my old high school, where I was prom king and captain of the baseball team, I can’t help the nostalgic pang in my chest and the sense of failure looming over me.

Coach Klein would know I’m not playing pro ball. He follows that kind of thing with his old students. But going in there in a suit and passing him a business card is probably going to be a surprise.

I get out of the Jeep Wrangler the five of us roommates use between us. It’s Sean’s car. There’s no real need for a car in New York, so Sean made us a deal. We all chip in for registration and insurance, and we get to share it. It mostly works. Onri was contemplating driving upstate to see his parents this weekend but relented when I said mine was for work. He doesn’t need to know I have other plans on the agenda.

Walking these school grounds makes me miss the days I went here. To think, I couldn’t wait to get out of here, and now I’m wishing I could go back. Not that I hate where I’m at, but like I told Damon, I’m finally adjusting my expectations for my life. There will be a part of me that will always be disappointed about baseball, but I’m going to turn it around and love the sport from the sidelines.

Starting now.

I turn the corner, and the baseball field comes into view. Coach Klein is there, talking to the team, who are all sitting on the grass of the infield. The kids spot me first, and then Coach Klein turns and waves me over.

“Everyone, this is Thad St. James, one of the best baseball players to ever graduate from Trenton Academy.”

I shake his hand and address them. “Hi, everyone. I thought I’d stop by and see how my old team is playing and to say hi to my most favorite coach ever.”

“Suck-up,” Coach Klein says. “Okay, so why don’t we get out there and show him what we’ve got?”

The players stand, and first up to bat is the reason I’m here: Rylan McAlister.

Some of the kids waiting in the very basic dugout send quick glances my and Coach’s way before whispering amongst themselves.

“So, what’s the real reason you’re here?” Coach asks. He’s not looking at me but watching the field. “For a second, I thought you were going to come asking for an assistant coach job, but with the way you’re dressed, I get the sense you might not actually be here for me.”

“Can’t a man come and see his old coach for the sake of saying hi while he’s in town?” I feign innocence, something I know he can see right through.

Rylan hits his first ball all the way to the back left field, an impressive hit for his warm-up bat.

“Considering you’ve been gone for, what, five years now and I haven’t seen you once? No.”

Fair. I should’ve made the effort to come back sooner. Coach Klein is one of the reasons I even got as far as I did in baseball. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t exactly had time to come back and reminisce with you about how I’ve always been your favorite player, but there’s a reason for that.”

“So, what are you now? Talent scout for colleges? Manager? Agent?”

I must make a face on that last one.

“Ah. An agent. And let me guess, you’re here to try to convince McAlister to sign with you and go out for the draft this upcoming year. What did I tell you when you were here?”

Rylan hits another one deep.

“That getting drafted right out of high school doesn’t give enough time to hone your skills to make it in the majors.”

“Exactly. McAlister has the potential to go far, but he won’t if he doesn’t go through a college program first.”

“Is that what Rylan has to say about it? He might think differently. Especially with how he can hit.”

“He’s seventeen. Of course he thinks differently.”

I love how protective he’s being of his star player. “I want to reassure you that I’m not here to convince him of anything. I wanted to meet him, give him my name, and tell him if he’s ever in the need of an agent, I work for an amazing firm who would love to meet him for a chat.”

“Who do you work for?”

“I’m an intern at King Sports,” I say proudly.

“They are a good firm. Reputable.”

“I’m here because this is my alma mater, but even if I wanted to sign Rylan, I couldn’t because I’m not even a full agent yet. I’m currently paying my dues and trying to recruit clients for the firm.”

Coach studies me for a moment. “In that case, I want you to check out this pitcher too. He’s only a sophomore, but I’m thinking of starting him this season because he has potential up the wazoo.” He turns to the dugout. “Turner, get out there and strike McAlister out.”

Turner jogs out to the mound to take over, but his first pitch is wide, and Rylan’s smart enough not to swing.

I side-eye Coach.

“He’s still green, obviously, but when he’s good, he’s fantastic. ”

This Turner kid proves Coach right when his next three balls are strikes.

“Is Rylan not as good as everyone thinks he is, or is Turner a prodigy?”

“It might be a bit of both. They each have some growing to do, and if Rylan doesn’t want to go to a four-year college, I’m going to try to convince him to go to a junior college so he won’t have to wait until he’s twenty-one to be drafted. He gets to grow stronger, sharpen his skills, and then maybe he’ll have a shot at getting you fifteen percent of a multimillion-dollar contract.”

That’s the dream.

“Are you going to let me talk to either of them?” I ask.

“I’ll introduce you and tell them who you work for, but that’s all I can promise at this point.”

“Hey, that’s all I’m asking for.”

Coach calls them over, and they both stare at me a little stunned when I say who I am and where I’m from, but when I tell them I want them to both work hard enough that I get to come see them again and wish them good luck, I swear one of them squeaks as I walk away.

The overall meeting went as to be expected, but it’s a first step.

With work out of the way, now I get to go enjoy my night, which I’m hoping will end with orgasms, but if it can only finish with friendship, then I’m going to have to be okay with that.

I’m still going to hold out for the former though.