A/N: I couldn't resist writing more chapters so fast.
Love is Like A Baseball Bat - The College Years
Chapter One: Summer's Still Going
It was really happening.
He was playing baseball again.
Arnold imitated Coach Tanner's back stretch, bending his sides as far as they could go without too much pain. His right side still had a slight twinge to it if he overworked himself.
He'd been at the University of South Carolina for almost two weeks now. He had an orientation with his parents after he moved into his dorm. He had a suite, two bedrooms connected by a bathroom. The boys in the other room were showing up when fall class began. His roommate would be showing up tonight, but Arnold didn't know why. All he'd gotten was an e-mail from the school announcing his arrival.
For the past week Arnold had only been playing baseball. He was getting to know the team, and feeling the backlash of hazing. The pranks were minor, but he knew as the year progressed, Arnold was going to have to work even harder to earn their trust. He'd been assigned the duty of Designated Driver. He had to be available to pick up the team members at any time of night, no excuses or exceptions.
He figured if he could put up with taking care of the kids in Hillwood, he could handle a month or two of picking up more experienced drinkers.
Arnold had been so wrapped up in baseball practice for hours on end, which included morning runs around the entire campus, weight lifting in the gym after lunch, and his physical therapy ab exercises after batting practice, he was running low on energy. He felt terrible about not being able to talk to Helga for more than half an hour. He'd either pass out on the phone because it was so late at night, or only be able to give her short text responses.
Helga was bummed.
She'd applied for a job working downtown close to the HU campus. She was able to see the dorms and summer students, as well as serve them coffee. The manager was understanding about her taking classes in the fall and promised her a part time job here during the year.
But that didn't help her stop missing Arnold.
Every night after work she'd drive back to her house and find Gerald laying on her stoop. Sometimes he'd be propped up against the door, other times just resting on the ground with his head on the welcome mat.
Miriam had offered him a job at Pataki Electronics. The pay was decent for a first job and Miram was really nice and understanding. It was all fine. She even gave him rides back to her house, which is why he waited outside for Helga. She didn't mind seeing him, they were friends after all.
But he was just as sad as Helga was. Phoebe was so busy working in laboratories and studying atomic particle collisions, or something, she could hardly stop to text an apology. He knew college was bad, but, man, he never got to talk to her.
Occasionally he and Helga would have a good time. They saw the new Evil Twin XI and ended up laughing so loud at the plot twist in the movie, which caused them to get kicked out of the theater. They'd spend weekend afternoons at Rhonda's house with those few students left: Nadine, Sid, and Harold. But then Rhonda went to Aspen and no one could agree on where to hang out.
Helga tried her hardest to stay out of her house for as long as possible. Olga had made herself a permanent guest, always bothering her about what she was doing or who she was talking to. Like it was any of her business.
June passed with a few thunderstorms and one heat wave and suddenly it was the middle of July. Summer was heading to a close with only three weeks left. The only thing keeping Gerald from going insane was the fact that Arnold was coming back on the 16th for a five day break.
"I'm so sick of being here," Gerald pushed his dinner away. His dad looked at him curiously from behind his newspaper.
Jamie-O glanced up from his iPhone. He remembered getting the pre-college itch so badly he hitchhiked to California with his friend just to get out.
"My boss asked me to take his yacht out next week. He needs it in the Bahamas. Do you want to come with me?" He had been employed by a very wealthy businessman. Jamie-O had been an intern, but managed to work hard and charm his way to the top. He was earning quite a salary, but refused to buy his own place until 'he had someone to live with.' So for now he was crashing as his parents while a room in his boss' NYC loft waited.
Gerald looked at his dad for approval before cheering, "Oh, my God, yes! I so want to go!"
Jamie-O typed away on his cell, grinning as it vibrated with a response. "He said the more the merrier. Looks like you can bring a friend."
August 2nd, 2011
Rhonda pressed her iPhone tighter to her ear, cupping her empty one to block out noise. "Hold on!" she shouted. It was so hard to hear at the Phi Kappa Psi frat house, especially since a beer pong tournament was happening a few feet away. Rhonda walked upstairs and into one of the brother's bedrooms before shouting over the music rising from the floor below, "You need what?"
"I need to see if this thing was legally binding in the United States or not."
"I missed what you said earlier, sorry. What?"
"Call your lawyer and ask him about my marriage!"
Iggy rolled over in his hostel bunk bed, eyes blinking furiously at the sunshine peeking in between the curtains. He groaned and kicked his foot up at Lorenzo's mattress.
"They're gone," he muttered, rubbing his eyes and starting at the empty room. The two Spanish beauties they'd met at a bar across town had come over for a very long after party.
Iggy stood up so suddenly he smacked his head against the bunk bed framing. "Shit! Lo, we were robbed!"
Lorenzo shot up too, scrambling down the ladder to check the small dresser and bathroom.
Money. Passports. Tickets. Clothes. Suitcases. Cell phones. All of it.
Gone.
Arnold tried to laugh along, but after the third ball hit him in the chest, he was starting to feel the pain. He was still being hazed, even though he was a week and a half away from leaving before fall classes started. And it really hurt because he was so exhausted. Morning scrimmage games were not his thing.
"Come on, Arnold, let's see your swing!" the pitcher teased as he wound up the ball. Arnold had been slow to start the summer. He hadn't done well batting, and the team picked on him for it, despite the coach's protest that he was a great hitter.
But he'd had enough. Arnold sucked it up and swung with every bit of power he had in him, sending the ball soaring back into the edge of the field.
The pitcher stood back in awe, jaw open slightly. Most of the team was stunned, simply watching Arnold run the bases while the ball still sat in outfield. Arnold saluted from the brim of his Gamecocks cap as he rounded third base.
He met the pitcher at home, who grinned and shook his hand. "That was a great hit." The rest of the team came out to congratulate him as well.
"Thanks."
YOU'VE GOT MAIL:
INBOX (1)
Gerald double clicked on the new message from Phoebe, smiling as he looked at the time it was sent, 2:40 a.m. Poor girl was working herself to the bone, studying and staying up late to pass her summer class.
He read Phoebe's message with a grin spread across his face. She was finishing up her fourth week in class. Her roommate, she said, reminded her of Lila and the two found it easy to get along. She'd been going out and exploring Cambridge with her hall mates. She talked about the beauty of the architecture, and the history behind it. She even included a few pictures of some of her classrooms and friends.
Gerald was about to begin his reply back, but a new e-mail bing made him click out and check.
It was another one from Phoebe:
Something's wrong.
"I just got a very interesting call from a lawyer named Mr. Pepper," Miram glanced at Helga across the table.
Helga tensed. She had tried so hard to keep this from her mother. "So, uh, what did he want?"
"He said he needed more details about the union before he could draw up annulment papers." Miram crossed her arms, waiting a moment before speaking again. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
Helga avoided eye contact with her mother. She wished she could shrink to two feet tall and hide. Go anywhere but here. "Well..."
"Oh, my God, Helga!"
"I know, I know. I was hoping to do this quietly and avoid you ever finding out. I just...well, I was drunk if that helps make any of this better."
Miram fell silent; this was serious. She knew that this situation needed to be handled delicately. "Okay, so, tell me what happened."
Helga put her fork down, officially ignoring the omelette Olga had cooked before going shopping. "There's nothing to tell, really. We were drunk and stupid and thought it was really funny." She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from her mother's stare. She glared down at her body, still nicely tanned from her recent and disastrous vacation. She wished it would just fade already.
"But you're not really married, right?"
"That's the problem, Mom. I don't know if it's considered a binding contract here. I might not even need this annulment."
Miram pursed her lips, "But you have a license?"
"Yeah. The minister was kind enough to give it to us after the ceremony."
Miram couldn't help it. A smile spread across her face despite the gravity of the situation. She was cracking up inside. It probably wasn't the best, or most responsible, response to her youngest daughter getting married while drunk.
Helga quirked her eyebrow, "You're not yelling."
"No, I'm not. You're almost nineteen, Helga. I know you're gonna make mistakes. Although, I'm not really sure why you'd want to separate from Arnold."
Helga's eyes went wide, suddenly remembering the lie she'd told her mother before the trip. She said she was driving to see Arnold at school. God, she was so screwed. She groaned, "See, that's the other problem." She bit her lip, turning her attention away from her mother and onto the wall. "I didn't marry Arnold."
Lorenzo's photographic memory had known to be a little faulty when he was drunk, but he managed to capture a basic description of the girls to the hostel owner and Spanish police department.
While Lorenzo was speaking fluent Spanish, Iggy walked around the familiar police station. The gray painted cinderblock looked much less threatening now. The dozen or so officers continued to move around the space, some typing on computers while others talked on the phone and drank coffee.
Along the walls were small photos of serious threats to Barcelona - men and women with scary scars and tattoos holding up plaques with their names and random numbers. Most of the photos were faded, blurry and black and white.
Iggy stopped at one of the few in color and grinned, laughing at the memory of that horrible night. "Thad, you crazy bastard."
Lorenzo walked over and laughed at the mug shot as well. "I got some change from the officer to make a call to my grandparents. Hopefully they'll be able to come and pick us up. It's a day long ferry ride from Italy to Spain."
"Do you know their number?"
Lorenzo tapped his temple, "Of course I do."
The two walked over to the public telephone at the front of the station. Lorenzo slipped the coins into the slot and picked up the receiver, dialing the Napadano's number.
His grandmother, his mom's mother, picked up on the third ring. "Pronto," she said.
Lorenzo began speaking in Italian, "Nonni, it's Lorenzo. Something bad has happened."
She gasped. "Oh, no, are you hurt?"
"No, we're fine. All of our stuff was stolen from our hotel room. Clothes, phones, money. Everything."
"You poor things."
"I'm calling from the Barcelona police station. I don't know how much time I have left, but the officers told us there's a ferry from Italy to Barcelona leaving tomorrow."
"Oh! Yes, yes, I will send your cousin to come get you. Don't worry!"
"Grazie, Nonni."
After quickly discussing a meeting place, Lorenzo hung up the phone. "My cousin will take the ferry tomorrow. We have to meet him at the docks."
"Hey, Arnold, we were about to change, go to an early dinner and meet up for the sorority party, you in?" The Gamecocks pitcher, Logan, slung his sweaty arm around Arnold's shoulder as they walked to the locker room.
Logan was a #35, senior, majoring in history. He was one of the tallest players on the team, at 6'7, and also the only one who kept his head closely shaved. Arnold had grown a few more inches in the past few years, but he still felt short next to Logan. Pitchers were supposed to be tall, and if Arnold couldn't grow any more he'd most likely never pitch for the Gamecocks.
Arnold wanted to go out with the team. He'd mostly been going to dorm room parties, but a sophomore had told him that it wasn't 'college.' He felt guilty turning them down two nights in a row, but he really needed to talk to Helga. "No, but, thanks though. I have a lot of work to do, actually."
"Well, there's a frat party later too, you could just swing by after."
Arnold smiled, "Sorry, I can't because I. . ."
Logan suddenly understood. "Oh, you're one of those freshman."
"What?"
"Girlfriend back home. Too afraid to go out and see the world because you might be tempted," Logan mocked him.
Arnold shrugged. Was he that easy to read?
"Don't worry about it, dude. We wouldn't let you make stupid decisions or get too drunk. We're a team. And we do have classes to attend, after all. Come on, one night out before the real work begins should be good for you."
"Alright then," Arnold smiled as Logan nodded.
"I'll swing by the freshman dorm after dinner to come get you."
Gerald wanted to throw up.
He hadn't felt this bad since he stupidly broke up with Phoebe. He hadn't eaten in two days.
His father was worried that he'd caught some parasite in the Bahamas.
Yeah, he had. And that parasite was his wife.
A booming knock on his front door made him jump. He heard Timberly run to answer it, "Gerald!" she called upstairs, "Helga's here."
He smacked his head into his desk. Maybe if he was knocked unconscious he'd wake up in a hospital with no memory of this summer vacation.
Gerald finally stood up, holding his head and bracing himself. He hadn't directly spoken with Helga since they got back. Jamie-O had been suspicious of their silence on the boat ride back to Florida. They even made sure their seats weren't next to each other on the flight to Hillwood. Jamie-O knew something was up, but didn't approach either of them.
He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "Hey, Helga."
His empty stomach dropped at the sight of the manila envelope in her hands. "We need to talk." She glanced at Timberly, who flashed her brace-filled smile. "In private."
Timberly nodded before turning on her heels, "Dad! Gerald and Helga need to talk in private!"
Helga's eyes went wide but Gerald grabbed her arm and ran her upstairs. They locked themselves in Jamie-O's room. Luckily he was working in New York again for the rest of the summer.
"Please tell me that's what I think it is."
"Annulment papers."
Gerald looked up at the ceiling, "Thank God."
"Unfortunately, Rhonda gave her lawyer my home phone. I had to tell my mother during breakfast."
"Wait, what? Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd, the Queen of Gossip, knows?"
Helga ripped open the envelope, glaring at Gerald. "Who else do you know who has a staff of legal advisers waiting on her every beck and call? After laughing over the phone for twenty minutes, she swore she'd never tell a soul. Apparently she's had her fair share of drunken mistakes. Not as bad as this, but. . ."
Gerald grit his teeth. Of all people. . .he couldn't worry about it. He was almost free. "So what do we need to do?"
"Sign these and drop them off at the courthouse. But we have to both be there."
Gerald nodded. "So what do they say? We were drunk and in another country?"
"Yeah, basically." Helga pulled a pen out of her pocket and signed her name on the dotted lines, initialing where necessary. Gerald did the same.
Both felt a great sense of relief.
"I've been avoiding calling Arnold because I was scared he would just know." Helga slid the papers back into the envelope.
Gerald rolled his eyes. "There's no way he'd be able to tell you were married by the sound of your voice."
"If I sounded guilty, he'd know something was up."
"What's there to be guilty about? We were both hammered far beyond any legal limit and stupidly got married by someone at the hotel. We kissed for like two seconds."
Helga gestured back and forth through the gap between them, "We still kissed."
Gerald cringed in disgust. It was Helga. He couldn't believe he married her, yet alone kissed her. "We just need to forget this ever happened, okay? No one else will ever need to know."
Helga shook her head no, "You're just going to lie to Phoebe?"
"It's not lying because it will never come up in conversation."
"I want to tell Arnold. And you should tell Phoebe."
"Why can't you just tell them both?"
"We have to tell them. If we don't the guilt will crush us until our souls are consumed with hate for each other and-"
"Geez, take a chill pill, Pataki. We'll call them later, together, okay?" Gerald massaged his temples, his headache still hurting behind his eyes.
Helga nodded. "Are you busy now or can we go take this downtown?"
Gerald nodded and followed Helga to her car. The two sat in tense and uncomfortable silence. Helga's grip on the wheel was so tight her knuckles were whiter than milk.
Gerald couldn't take the silence and turned on the radio.
"Welcome to WXRT 680, where we play your favorite pop hits from the early 2000's." The next song began playing. The piano tune and violin were soft, but Gerald couldn't recall the song. ". . . And I know that he knows I'm unfaithful, and it kills him inside. . ."
Helga screamed and clicked the radio off. "No music. Ever."
"I can't just sit in silence! It's making me nervous!"
"You should be!" Helga snarled as downtown Hillwood's skyscrapers came into view. Not too long now.
"It was not my idea to get married to you."
Helga's voice reached an incredibly high volume that would have scared a deaf person as she screamed, "YES IT WAS!" At the next red light, the turned to face Gerald. "We were both bombed out of our minds. We should have died from alcohol poisoning or something, but we didn't. I can't remember much, but I know we were talking about that wedding we crashed. And it just escalated from there. This was not. My. Fault."
Arnold's roommate's name was Shawn, even if the e-mail said his name was Aldolfo. He insisted to be called Shawn. He entered the room with a very loud hello, donning a sombrero, white jacket and black sweatpants. He had only one large suitcases with him. Shawn laughed and took off the hat, exposing long curly hair, falling past his ears. "This is my drinking hat," he explained with another laugh. Arnold laughed along, still in shock over the entrance. Not many people could pull off screaming as an introduction.
Shawn Salazar had been born in Texas, but spent the last sixteen years in Buenos Aires, Argentina. "My mom is Argentinian," he added, pointing to his dark skin, "so I speak a lot of Spanish." He turned around from unpacking his suitcase, "Habla español?"
Arnold nodded, rocking his hand back and forth to indicate as so-so motion, "Un poco. No soy bueno."
Shawn shrugged, "I might slip between English and español, so just tell me if you can't understand."
"Okay."
Shawn unpacked the last of his things, looking at the white concrete wall beside his bed. Arnold had given him the bed along the same wall as the the door, preferring the option to be closer to gaze out the window as if he was at home.
Upon entering the suite, the door would bang into Arnold's closet. Following that wall, there was the doorway to the bathroom, the school-provided desk shoved against the wall, then Arnold's bedframe. All of the furniture was bolted to the walls and floor. Shelves were put in above the desks and beds. The room between the beds wasn't too small, maybe a good six feet, but he knew it would get cramped in here eventually. Arnold had been so used to such a large room his entire life.
Shawn held his fingers against his chin, striking a thoughtful pose, "I should've brought something to cover up the walls. Or more pictures or something." He sighed and collapsed on his half-made bed, pointing to the open bathroom door. "Who are the other guys?"
"They move in in like three weeks, when class starts."
Shawn sat up, "So what do you do during the day here?"
"I'm on the baseball team, so I practice all day."
He laughed. "Wow, I don't know if that sucks or is impressive."
Arnold laughed along, agreeing, "It sucks."
"They sent me here early cause I'm an 'international student'," Shawn added the air quotes. "This is my dad's alma mater. He's been telling me about this place since I was four, I know it like the back of my hand."
"That's good. It took me a while to figure things out. . . .I think I was more overwhelmed than anything."
"Yeah, but just wait until classes start. Then you'll really feel it." Shawn stood up and started walking around, "Sorry I've just been in a plane and a car and I really feel the need to move."
"Come on, let's go grab some dinner. There's a diner down the street that stays open 24 hours. D-Hall closes at 8."
Shawn glanced at his watch, "8:15." Arnold stood up and stretched his body, arms going high over his head. He couldn't help but groan at the sound his right shoulder made when it popped.
Shawn's hazel eyes went wide, "Shit, you okay?"
"No, that's normal. I'd be worried if it didn't make a noise." Arnold checked his pockets for his wallet, phone and keys, an old habit he was glad he had. Shawn did the same.
The two walked down the hallway and the two flights of stairs in silence. The fact of the matter was finally settling in: the boys didn't know each other at all. The school had not given them a chance to communicate at all, not even offering an e-mail address so they could exchange greetings.
"So where are you from, Arnold?"
"Hillwood, it's a city in-"
"Oh, I've heard of that place." Shawn bit his lip, why did it sound so familiar? "Yeah, my political science class talked about it 'cause it was in the news a lot. We had some crazy debates about it. I mean, gay marriage was declared legal in Argentina in 2009, and some kids were really shocked to hear about that kid."
"Yeah. We all were shocked."
"Did you know him. . .the kid who died?"
"Knew everyone involved. Lucas, Eugene, Harrison. It's still a pretty big deal back home."
"Wow. I'm sorry."
Arnold smiled, "It'll be okay, though. Eventually. Something's always happening in Hillwood."
"Oh, I like the sound of that." The two finally reached the diner. It was mostly filled with college students, and a few families with older children. The booths were covered in teal plastic and squeaked when you moved. The wood tables were always sticky, and everyone who worked there looked like they had been for their entire lives. The waitresses were older women who were experienced dealing with drunk or stoned teens.
Shawn inhaled the stench of greasy food frying on the grill. "Oh, America, I've missed you." The two took a booth in the corner.
"So, tell me more about yourself."
Shawn laughed, "This isn't an internet dating profile. No offense man, but I don't swing that way."
"Neither do I," Arnold shook his head. "I have a girlfriend of almost three years back home."
"That's spicy," Shawn replied. Arnold smirked. He could tell that this guy was going to be fun.
"I just figured if we're gonna live together, we should know at least something, right?" Shawn nodded just as the waitress appeared. They both ordered their drinks and food. Arnold had already eaten with the team, but still craved french fries. Of course, he preferred Slausen's fries, but he wouldn't get those for weeks.
"Well, if you must know, I have three sisters. Two older, one younger. And there's my parents. And two cats, Fernando and Isabella. Named after the two Spanish monarchs."
"That must have been hard growing up with all sisters, right?"
"Yeah. They were real putas half the time. But I love them, blah blah blah. You got any siblings?"
"No. Just me and my parents. They had been out of the picture for most of my life, so my grandparents raised me."
"That's pretty cool. I bet your grandparents were super chill, right?"
Arnold started laughing so hard he choked on air. "No. Not even close. My grandma was insane, but in the best way possible. She mixed up holidays and always dressed up in costume. I hardly ever heard her call my own name. And my grandpa. . .well he was crazy enough to love her."
"That's sweet." Shawn laughed and sipped his drink, "So what about your parents, if you don't mind me asking?"
"They were both doctors, my dad was an anthropologist and my mom studied botany. They travled to San Lorenzo, where they met, fell in love, all that stuff. When I was two, they had to go back to help save a local tribe, the Green Eyes. They ended up getting lost. Their plane was never found, but the people managed to save them from the wreck."
"Wow, what happened?"
"Their plane started malfunctioning. Something about the wing or motor, I forget. They crashed into the river and the plane was sunk and carried down the current."
"Oh. That's good that they survived."
"Yeah, and they had no way of contacting anyone so they were stuck. They helped the Green Eyes and lived with them as members of their tribe. My friends and I actually went to search for them after my grandparents passed away."
"I'm sorry."
"Thanks."
An awkward silence settled in as the waitress lowered their plates of food. It was silent for five more minutes after that, while Shawn tore into his burger and basket of onion rings.
He swallowed everything back with a large gulp of Coke. "What's your girlfriend like?"
Arnold stopped doodling with his fries in his blob of ketchup, "Is it stupid to say that Helga's the most amazing person I've ever met?"
"You can't help it. Love is love and when you feel it you sound like an idiot."
Arnold pointed his fry at his roommate, "You have got to be the chillest guy I've ever met. You remind me a lot of my best friend, Gerald. Except he has his fair share of freak out moments."
"I don't freak out. I don't even get surprised or scared. I've been mistaken for a stoner by many adults." Arnold raised his eyebrows, "And don't worry, I don't smoke. I'd rather kill my liver than my throat."
Arnold laughed, "Sounds like a good life plan."
The two continued their late dinner with more laughs and stories. Shawn described Buenos Aires and compared it to the two places he'd seen in America. Austin Texas and the SC campus. He said Buenos Aires had more history, and beautiful architecture and a nice view of the sea. Arnold could tell Shawn would be homesick soon.
The roommates talked about friends back home, high school, their interests in tv, music, movies. Shawn was big into horror. Arnold had reluctantly gotten into the horror movie scene after dating Helga. They talked about their favorite sports to play and watch. Neither really seemed to enjoy football as much as soccer and baseball, respectively.
"Did you play soccer for your high school?"
"No way man. School sports teams make me nervous. They're all 'Go Fight Win!' 'Destroy the enemy' and it's all creepy in the same uniforms. I stick to impromptu backyard sports. No uniforms, no refs, no rules."
After they paid and walked back to their dorm, Arnold realized what time it was. He immediately pulled his shirt off and turned around beside his bed, trying to remember exactly which drawer he put his nicer clothes in.
Shawn pointed to Arnold's reflection in the bathroom mirror, "Woah, dude, sick tat! And scar! Damn, you're much more of a badass than I thought."
"Thanks? I'll tell you the story of how I got it later," Arnold pulled on his salmon shorts, that Gerald insisted he bought to fit the 'frat boy style.' Whatever that meant. "But now I have to go out and meet my teammates. We're going to a party. You're welcome to come along."
Shawn started laughing, "No thanks. Besides, I doubt your baseball boys could handle partying with me." Shawn pointed to his hat.
Arnold laughed as he folded up his dirty shirt and put it in his hamper in the closet. He turned around, but stopped when there was a knock at the door. Shawn opened it slightly and peered out to see five men in red and black hoods and all black gowns, similar to the ones worn at graduation. "Joder," he muttered before opening the door wider. "Uh. . .Arnold?"
Arnold froze, shirtless and scared.
Four of the guys rushed in, shoving Shawn onto his bed, picked Arnold up and lifted him over their heads. "What is going on?" Arnold tried to break free from their grip, but his limbs were being held very tightly.
"Just relax," the fifth man said, turning to face the occupied bed, "We'll bring him back later."
Shawn shook his head back and forth, "I'm not his babysitter. Just be quiet when you come in."
The guys pushed Arnold against the wall inside the staircase and blindfolded him. They also gagged his mouth, which didn't help him relax. Arnold was really disoriented. The group was walking, but he had no idea where. He still didn't know the area well enough.
After what felt like an hour, it could've been ten minutes, Arnold wasn't sure, his feet were returned to the ground. He knew they were in some sort of basement. It was very cold, damp, musky, and they had to walk down a flight of stairs.
There was a sudden rush of the blindfold being whipped off. Arnold jumped in surprise, feeling others back into him. There were twelve other freshman who joined the team. And Arnold knew they were all here for one reason.
The room was dark and a voice came from the shadows, "Welcome, recruited freshman, to your weekend from Hell. This is your final bit of the initiation process before we can accept you on the team and give you your official Gamecocks jerseys," Logan removed his mask and stepped under the low hanging light, turing it on. It rocked back and forth under his movements, casting the glow of the lightbulb on the other masked figures. All fellow baseball players. There were twenty-one older guys surrounding the circle of thirteen.
"Tonight we are throwing a party for returning students. We throw this party every year, and it tends to gets wild. You will be required to clean up after the party, serve drinks, watch the door, and of course, listen to everything we say. If we say jump, you will do it. No hesitation, back talk, or questions. Understood?"
"Yes," the freshmen replied.
"Understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
"You will be spending the entire weekend here, with no contact to the outside. Hand over your cell phones." Arnold recognized the player taking their phones, Patrick. He had the darkest skin on the team. Patrick was #39, another pitcher. The team had 16 pitchers on the roster.
"What you're wearing now will be your attire for the party. We have spare clothes for you to change in after."
Arnold bit his lip. He didn't have a shirt on. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable in his body, baseball kept him in great shape, but he could just hear Helga screaming in his head. He wasn't going to lie, he had seen some very attractive girls on campus. And chances are they'd be at this party.
He had no idea if the team would make him drink, but if they did, he had no idea what he was capable of. He'd only gotten seriously drunk twice in his life. Both times with Gerald and in the safety of his home. Not in front of anyone who would judge him for what he said or did.
"We have to go finish preparing for the party. Enjoy your wait here." Logan nodded and the sophomores, juniors and two other seniors all left the basement.
Then the light was shut off.
A/N: I got the first names, positions and numbers for all the baseball players from the real South Carolina Gamecocks roster, but I chose not to describe their real faces.
Also, ~OH MY GODD SO MUCH DRAMA HAPPENING I'M SO EXCITED AND ALSO REALLY SORRY IF YOU'RE CONFUSED/MAD