SOPHIE:Did he sign it?
ME:Ugh no course is closed today
But it gets me thinking again about my dilemma. “Do any of you know anyone on the golf team?” I ask. I texted people from my class, but we are all beginners. It just occurred to me that people on the team probably have Coach Cantu’s number.
Bailey looks up from the pillowcase she’s writing on. “We have a golf team?” she asks.
I give her a head-tilt kind of nod and she’s legitimately shocked to learn this.
“I don’t,” Mia says, but Bianca looks like she’s really considering my question.
“I do. We had to take their team photo for yearbook. Let me think…. There’s Lily Rodriquez, David Pham, Tanika Rogers, Chloe Kim, Chris Locke…”
Mia asks, “Locke still lives here? Didn’t he move in middle school?”
Bianca shakes her head. “He was homeschooled in middle school so he could spend the day at the golf course. He’s really good. But he came back to regular school sophomore year. I had English with him.”
We had a few Chrises in our class when we were young, so we started calling him “Locke” as a way to differentiate between him and the others.
“He’s in my calculus class this year,” I add. “But I didn’t know he played on the team.”
“Why are you asking about golf?” Mia asks.
“I’m trying to get in touch with the golf coach.”
They’re satisfied with my answer and I have a list of people to reach out to as soon as this party is over. It feels good to have a plan. Bailey’s mom calls for us to get together for some pictures on the mattresses in the middle of the room. It takes a while for everyone to reclaim their pillowcase, and the first thing I search for on mine is what the Evil Joes wrote.
Hope you don’t mess up on your speech! The whole family will be there xoxo JL MJ
God, they’re the worst.
Once the party ends, I’m back in my car outside of Bailey’s house, opening up my contacts list so I can call someone on the team for Coach Cantu’s number. Out of all of the people Bianca listed on the golf team, Chris Locke’s number is the only one I don’t already have. And he’s the last one I would call, anyway. He was so rude to me in Calculus. It’s not my fault he can’t tell an antiderivative from a derivative. I decide to call Tanika, since I know her the best.
Luckily, she answers on the third ring.
“Olivia, what’s up?” she asks.
“Hey! I need your help. I’m trying to get in touch with Coach Cantu. Do you happen to have his number?”
I can tell she switches the call to speaker when she says, “Sending it to you now, but he won’t answer. I’d be surprised if he has his phone on him at all. He’s impossible to get in touch with.” The frustration in her voice is obvious.
“Oh my God, how can one person be so friggin’ hard to get in touch with? I should not be having this problem with today’s technology! My mom is currently hours away from here and yet she still knows I’m sitting in my car in front of Bailey’s house right this minute.” Okay, I didn’t mean to word-vomit all of that on her.
But for real—he may not have his phone on him?!
“I know. He’s so old-school. If you don’t get him, a few of us are meeting him for lunch at Silver Star. There’s a tournament this week and even though it isn’t a team event, we’re still getting together to discuss the course and strategy since most of us haven’t ever played there. We’ll be there at noon.”
There is an ounce of hope that I can handle this today and quit worrying about it. Checking the time on the dash, I see I’ve got thirty minutes until they’re at the restaurant. “Thank you! Thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me!”
“Okay, okay, I got it. Good luck,” she says, and ends the call.
I save Coach Cantu’s contact, then pull up a message to him. After taking a deep breath, I type:
ME:Hi Coach Cantu! This is Olivia Perkins! I’ve been trying to reach you!
Whoa, way too many exclamation points. Delete, delete, delete.
ME:Coach Cantu, it’s Olivia Perkins. I am in dire need of speaking to you. It is of the utmost importance
