Once we’re done, we start navigating our way back to the building. We’re almost out of the woods when Sophie grabs my arm and pulls me back.
“Look who it is,” she whispers.
About twenty feet away, the Evil Joes are looking for their own bathroom spot. We tiptoe back into the woods, keeping them in sight. They almost glow in the dark in the white shirts they’re wearing, making it easy to keep up with them. We wait until they’ve settled in, then Sophie throws this big stick she found on the ground next to us, chucking it just to the left of where they’re squatting. They both scream bloody murder and Sophie and I almost fall over trying to hold our laughter in.
The Joes sprint back to the Wagon Wheel, pulling up their jeans as they run, and it’s a good thing I’ve already used the bathroom or I’d pee all over myself.
“Okay, I feel like we’re finally even for the drive-in movie,” Sophie says.
It took forever to drag Charlie off the dance floor. He would have been the last person there if we let him.
“You sure were dancing with Bianca a lot tonight,” I say.
Charlie and I are in the backseat and Sophie is riding shotgun. He turns to me. “Did I see you talking to Locke?”
“I talked to him for like two minutes. You danced with Bianca for like two hours.” I hold my hands up. “Don’t get me wrong, I love her! Y’all would be cute together.”
I’m teasing him because Charlie has sworn off girlfriends. He wants to start college single so he is free to mingle. His words, not mine.
“She’s fun. That’s it,” he says. “And she’s going somewhere far. Like Georgia. Or Alabama.”
“That’s not that far,” Wes says.
“Far enough. And what are you saying? You can’t wait until you and Sophie are in the same town and she’s only thirty minutes away right now.”
Wes grins into the rearview mirror. “Yeah, you got me.”
Before long, we’re pulling up in front of my house. Sophie is staying the night so she’s here to man the phone, since I have to be at the golf course so early.
I let myself inside, shower, and get ready for bed while she and Wes do their good-byes. Climbing under the covers, I’m nervous about tomorrow all of a sudden. I grab my phone from the bedside table and start googlinggolf. Andgolf tournaments. And watch videos and study every picture I come across.
Golf is a big deal.
It’s clear I didn’t pay much attention to it this entire semester, because most of the common terms seem foreign to me. It’s probably the only sport where you want the lowest score. And I feel like that shouldn’t be new news! Though in my defense, most of our classes were spent hitting balls at the range or on the putting green working on our technique.
But these tournaments are the big leagues. And I get why. A good game can make the difference between having a spot on a college team (and a full ride) or not.
Finally Sophie comes in, and it’s not long before she’s crawling into the other side of my bed. I put my phone away and try to get some sleep.
Tomorrow is going to be a long day.
Six a.m. comes early. When my phone’s alarm goes off, there is arumble of moans and groans from the other side of the bed.
“Turn it off,” Sophie says. “Make it stop.” Just enough light filters into the room for me to see Sophie burrow down in the bed and drag a pillow over her head.
“Sorry,” I whisper, and tiptoe to the bathroom. Thankfully, I had my shower last night so this morning is just throwing my hair up and brushing my teeth. I pull on the pair of shorts I found in Mom’s dresser and a tee with my school logo. From the pics I saw last night, it looks like all the girls wear tennis skirts, but Coach said to come in khaki shorts, so yay for team spirit. Even though they aren’t there as a school team. Whatever.
“Sophie,” I whisper. “I’m about to go, but I need to switch phones with you.”
She makes a grunting sound. Then says, “It’s charging on the desk. Leave yours there.”
Phone swap complete, I make a cup of coffee to go and grab a granola bar for the ride to Ellerbe Hills.
I spend the drive imagining what my job will be. Maybe I’ll keep the scores for players? Or I’ll be taking pics and posting them to their social media? That would be cool.
Not going to lie, I’m a little smug when I pull back up to the guard station. It’s the same guy who wouldn’t let me through yesterday.
He steps up to my window and gives me that same look. “Can I help you?”
