Third Base

I roll over with a groan and slam my hand down on the clock, silencing it before it makes my ears bleed. I let out a cough and quickly convince myself that I have a cold and there is no possible way I can make it to class. It would be unfair of me to infect the student body with any illness.

Reaching for my phone, I rise up on my elbows and type out a text to Daisy.

I have a cold. Can’t go to class.

The conversation bubble pops up immediately making me smile. I know she wasn’t waiting for my text, but the fact that she stopped what she was doing to reply means the world to me.

Daisy Robinson: Well that sucks. I thought we could make out behind one of the dorms today.

My eyes bug out at her text message and sure enough my happy stick likes the idea of making out with her, although not in public.

I’m feeling better

I type back and send before it dawns on me that she just played me. I’m slow to get out of bed, and contemplate going to class looking like the quintessential college kid. No one would really care. Chicks dig the messy, I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-look on guys just as much as dudes like the I-just-got-fucked-look on a chick.

Each step I take on my way to the bathroom has me thinking of another excuse as to why I should stay home. I don’t know why I’m being such a baby about taking this class - it’s only for two weeks, two hours a day... and half the time I’ll be on the road. But, I’ll be on campus with Daisy and I think that’s what’s scaring me. I don’t want her to get sick of me because I’m around too much, or worse, act like we aren’t seeing each other to avoid scrutiny in the press, even though everyone knows we’ve been hanging out. The BoRe Blogger made that public for us.

My hair is an unruly mess and standing on end. I run my hands under the water and through my hair but nothing changes. It’s definitely a hat day for me. I finish up the rest of my necessary morning crap in the bathroom before slipping on a pair of sweats with a Nike t-shirt and shoes. The ladies in the front office of the Renegades were gracious enough to buy me a few school supplies which I gather up before heading out the door. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind that I would need a pen and paper.

The drive over to the University takes longer than I had pla

“Mr. Davenport, it’s so nice of you to join us,” the professor so nicely a

They lean toward me in unison as I get comfortable and the one on my right hands me the paperwork that I need.

“Thanks,” I mumble, keeping my eyes focused on the professor.

“You’re welcome, Ethan,” she says dreamily, which really makes me uncomfortable. I’m used to this kind of attention, but something about her and her friend on my left seems odd. I can’t put my finger on it. Tomorrow, I’m going to have to be early so I can pick another seat and maybe pay some dudes to sit next to me.

“Social media is a powerful tool,” the professor starts. “It can be used for just about everything. Many people a

He has a good point. When Sarah and I decided to part ways, she changed her relationship status from “in a relationship” to “single” and her friends posted that I was a jerk, an asshole, and that she could do better. She spent hours defending me, saying that our break-up had been mutual, and that we were still very good friends, just going in different directions in life. We, collectively, had decided it’d be best to part while happy with each other instead of fighting. We didn’t want to end up hating each other.

“Social media is also an avenue for awareness, such as an accident on the route you usually drive, or for a fundraiser. What a lot of people don’t realize is that media and social media are the same thing with the only difference being live footage. For example: I can go on live television and give an interview. Someone sitting at home with nothing to do can take bits and pieces from said interview and mash them together creating something new and the exact opposite of what I actually said during my live interview and post it on social media. My interview has now gone from media to social media. Sadly, this ca

As I look around, everyone is either typing on their computers, or hand writing notes. I’m doing neither because I thought this class was going to prepare me for what I need to say to the media and what not to post on social media. I don’t care about interviews gone badly – that shit happens all the time – which is why I’m here. The Renegades want to prevent me from putting my foot in my mouth or being labeled stupid due to nerves.

After the first few minutes, I’m zoning out, not focused on class as the professor continues on about the differences and likenesses of all forms of socializing. I can feel my phone vibrating against my leg, tempting me to take it out and see what’s going on, but getting scolded again isn’t high on my priority list. Now that I’m sitting here, staying in bed with that fake cough is becoming more and more appealing. I thought this guy was going to teach me how to give an interview, something my college should’ve taught us. I suppose I could tell Stone that I don’t want to attend and just accept the fact that I’ll never have any television time.

I must’ve zoned out because the girl next to me is tapping me on the shoulder, telling me to pack up. She says something about following her and her friend to the library for an assignment and I figure I better do it since I haven’t a clue as to what just happened. I keep pace behind them as we walk through the busy campus. Instead of looking around at the scenery, I’m looking for a familiar pair of green eyes.

I really wish I had paid attention to what the professor was saying because I don’t want to do homework club or whatever it is that has me following these two girls up the stairs and into the library. I need to be better than this first showing. Right now, I’m showing everyone in that class I’m nothing but a dumb jock.

It’s been a couple of years since I’ve been inside a college library, or any library for that matter. I’ve forgotten how quiet everyone is. That is unless you’re Ethan Davenport and you just walked in and everyone stops, stares and pulls out their phone to take your picture. I wave and break off from these classmates of mine in search of a corner I can hide in. My plan is to text Daisy and ask her to come and save me... only I don’t have to because I spot her sitting at one of the computer terminals. I walk up behind her, thinking I should scare her, but think better of it. Being in the library where you’re required to be quiet and making her scream from shock might not be the best thing for her. The last thing I want is for her to get into trouble.