Junior Year Box Set

“I might have a one-night stand, but for a girlfriend, I want it to be just the two of us,” I said.

“Okay, I believe that. Let me get this mess worked out, and then I’ll call you,” Sage said.

“I look forward to it,” I said and kissed her.

“Thanks, David,” she said and got out of the car.

“Rough night?” Fritz asked on the ride home.

“Young people and alcohol,” I said.

Fritz got the message that I didn’t want to talk about it.

◊◊◊

Chapter 18 – Searching for Clarity Monday December 7

Sunday I’d been a complete slug and did nothing but go to church and watch some movies. Rita was convinced my education wasn’t complete and decided there were films I needed to see. I enjoyed Casablanca and Mutiny on the Bounty but wasn’t a fan of Annie Hall.

Apparently, the paparazzi were slugs, too, because none of them were waiting for us when we ran. As we came back home, Caryn was pulling into the driveway from her weekend at her mom and dad’s. I showered as she unpacked. I couldn’t believe she’d taken her clothes home to have them washed. After all, if you put them in the hamper, they magically reappeared in your closet a couple of days later. What she did seemed too much like work.

◊◊◊

When we arrived at the set, I found I had one scene first thing in the morning and then another at the end of the day. After I finished my first scene, Caryn, Fritz, and I left to go to my baseball training. I was happy to see Ray warming up and watched until he was ready. It looked like the couple of days of rest had done him some good. His curveball and slider were breaking like crazy.

Coach Revilla came out, took his position, and nodded to Coach Boyd to begin. I mentally ran through the five steps: rhythm, seeing the ball, separation, staying square, and weight shift and transfer. I stepped into the box, and Ray overthrew a fastball. What happened when you did that was they tended to rise. I saw it as soon as it came out of his hand. I concentrated on my mechanics, and from the crack of the bat, I knew I got all of it. If there hadn’t been a net, it might’ve ended up in the parking lot.

“Shake it off! Go again,” Coach Boyd told Ray.

The next pitch was a slider that dipped away for a ball.

“Good eye,” Coach Revilla said.

Then Ray unleashed a curveball that looked like it was coming at my head. I stood in and ripped it right back at him. That was a sure double. Today they weren’t stopping to coach us. You could feel the intensity level amp up. Ray had seen two of his first three pitches get tagged. He seemed ready to show up this high school kid.

The next pitch, he did just that. I misread it, and the curveball had me looking foolish. Coach Revilla didn’t say a word. I felt myself fall into the zone. For the next thirty pitches, I put on a hitting show; I just couldn’t miss. When Ray finally got so frustrated he threw at me, we called it a day.

Coach Revilla didn’t comment on my hitting today. He gave me a new drill to do on the batting tee and said he would see me Wednesday.

◊◊◊

Caryn had come with us because I had a meeting with Laurent Vance, a director. He’d been green-lighted to make a movie called The Royal Palm, set in early-sixties Cuba right before the Cuban Missile Crisis. It was set at a hotel where foreigners would stay, many of whom were spies. The role I was trying for was that of a young man who gets tangled up in the intrigue. My character was killed off in the third act.

Saul had called Caryn and said the director wanted to meet with me to see if we could work together. It was supposed to be just a friendly hello.

We arrived at the Soho House in West Hollywood and were whisked to the northeast corner of the upper-level garden. I looked around and saw actress Tansy Williams having lunch with three other people who appeared to be lawyers. Mr. Vance looked like he’d just crawled out of bed.

“Sit and listen,” he began. “I didn’t want you for this role, but the studio has forced you upon me. I have no interest in dealing with the flavor of the month and making him into a star. Why don’t you do everyone a favor and drop out of this picture?

“Order what you want. I have other things to do,” Mr. Vance said and got up and left.

“Well, bite me,” I said when he left.

“I think you should do it,” Caryn said.

“Well, screw you,” I shot back.

“Do you think he meant it when he said lunch was on him?” Caryn asked.

I called over the waiter, and he confirmed that lunch was on Mr. Vance. I stood up and walked over to Tansy Williams’ table.

“Excuse me, may I ask you a question?”

Even Tansy could give me ‘the look.’ I held up my hands and mouthed ‘sorry.’

“What did you want?” Tansy asked.

“Do you come here often?”

“Some.”

“I just had a jerk French director tell me why he didn’t want to work with me. He made the mistake of leaving his credit card to pay for our lunch,” I said, pointing at Caryn.

For some reason, Caryn acted like she didn’t know me.