Scoring Position Prologue

SCORING POSITION PROLOGUE

ACE

"What do you mean, I don't have enough credits to graduate?" I ask, my brows pulled tightly in confusion. "My advisor told me at the beginning of the year that I'd be good with the nine credit hours I signed up for."

I hear the rapid clicking of a keyboard as my knee bounces with anxiety, because if I don't let it, I might climb right the fuck up these walls.

"Okay," the woman replies. "I see the problem." I breathe a sigh of relief, hoping she has some good news for me. "One of your courses had a mandatory lab that required you to be on campus to complete your work. Since you did your lessons remotely, your attendance in that lab was never counted, resulting in a zero for the accompanying course. So, you still need three more credit hours in order to earn your diploma."

I let my head fall back, dragging a hand down my face in exasperation. "I was approved by the dean for independent study. I was excused from all on-campus instruction. "

More tapping. I clench my fist on the table in front of me, trying not to freak out on this poor woman. It's not her fault that I'm dealing with this shit.

But it isn't mine, either.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Mathers, you didn't complete the work for this course, so you'll either have to retake it and be on campus for the lab portion, or choose another elective to earn those credits. There are a few left for the summer semester if you want to graduate as soon as possible. I'm sure, given your situation, the dean will have no problem approving you for independent study again. You can register right on the app if one of the open courses strikes your fancy."

"Thank you," I say, completely defeated as I end the call. Fuck. I promised my grandma I would graduate from college when I was a kid. We were very close, and although we both knew I was destined for the MLB, she told me she wanted to see me walk across the stage to accept my diploma before she died. I would be the first in the family to do so, and it was important to her, so I vowed that I would earn my degree. Unfortunately, she recently passed from a blood infection, but I refuse to let her down. I have to see this through.

I slump back in my chair, huffing an annoyed breath as I pull up the university's app to search for open courses. The ones that are full are grayed out, leaving only three electives for me to choose from. I begin to look them over, not sure which one would be easiest. As a rookie in the MLB, I need to focus on our season that's already in full swing, but I also want to get this over with so I can be done with school forever .

"What's up, rook?" my teammate Jackson says, pulling out a chair and sitting down. It's a game day, and a lot of us get here early to meet with one of the trainers before we start preparing for warm-ups. As a catcher, I always make sure my legs are thoroughly stretched and massaged so I don't get any cramps while squatting and standing during play.

"Not much, man," I reply. "Just found out I need one more elective to graduate. I'm trying to choose between the three courses nobody on campus wanted to take so I can get this shit over with."

He shoots me a toothy grin. "I gotta say, I commend you for following through with this whole college thing. I did one year of that shit while I was in the minors, and it was hell trying to juggle it all. But you're almost at the finish line."

He's right. It has been hell. I was drafted right out of high school and spent just over two years in the minors before I was called up to catch for the Daytona Fury. I figured an associate's degree in business administration would be the easiest route to go, so that's what I went with. It's been far from the cake walk I expected when I promised my grandma I'd graduate. Unfortunately, with my busy schedule, it's taken a bit longer to complete everything, but I'm finally nearing the end. Now I just need to bang out one final course.

"Thanks. I'm just not sure which of these will require the least amount of brain power." I scroll through my options again, but I'm cut off when Jacks swipes the phone from my hand.

"Let's see," he says as he peruses the available options. " Intro to Ballroom Dancing." He purses his lips as he considers it. "Sounds innocent enough, but they go kinda hard on that dancing show with the celebrities. You might get hurt."

My brows bunch together in confusion. "I'm taking it independently. How would I get hurt if I'm by myself?"

He shrugs. "You never know, dude. It's not worth the risk." Looking back down at my phone, he moves on. "Beekeeping. Is this seriously a college course? Why is everything so dangerous?"

"I'm allergic to bees, anyway," I reply, shaking my head rapidly. "That one's out. What's behind door number three?"

He scrolls to the bottom of the list, a knowing grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Your fucking layup class, man. You could nap through every lesson and still pass, no problem. Matter of fact, you could probably teach it!"

I blow out a relieved breath, thankful that I won't have to take much time away from baseball to study. I was one of the top prospects my senior year and was drafted in the first round, but I'm young and still have to prove myself to this team. I'm not the only catcher on the Fury roster, and I can be moved back down to the minors at any time if they feel like I'm slacking. I may be a fan favorite, but as soon as my game starts to suffer, that won't mean a thing.

"Alright," I reply with a big smile. "What course?"

He winks, turning the phone toward me, and my stomach drops right into my ass as I stare at the words typed in bold across the screen. Human Sexuality .

Fuck .

Preorder Scoring Position on Amazon:

https://a.co/d/csUZQVj

Want to read Tanner and Grace's story?

Turn the page for the prologue of QB Keeper, book 3 of the Boston Blizzard series…