I’ve also got to figure out how to handle Leo. Will it be awkward if I run into him today? He’s keeping a secret for me, but for how long? It doesn’t help that he thinks we’re mean to the Evil Joes, but he has NO IDEA what those girls have done to us over the years. Now that I think about it, I should be mad at him for forming opinions on things he doesn’t understand.
And then there are the tournament rules. Lily gave me a booklet yesterday before I left the course, and oh my God there are so many rules. I tried really hard to read them all, but I didn’t get through the whole booklet. And some of them don’t even make sense! One wasDon’t give advice.Yeah, okay, no problem. I have no advice to give!
I’m not sure if I’m supposed to enforce the rules or tattle on the players, though. I’m hoping she was just trying to educate me.
But what I’m not expecting is the traffic to get into this place. I circle the lot twice before I find a spot to park.
From what I’ve gathered in my internet research and eavesdropping, some of these tournaments are for school teams and some are for individual players. This one is the individual player type, and it looks like every player has a parent or coach with them. There will be three days of play, the third day ending with an awards thingy.
As I walk up to the clubhouse, I can easily spot the tournament officials. They’re all wearing matching shirts and hats with their logo embroidered on each one. Since Coach Cantu works for the club (and I work for him) our main function is to make sure there are no issues with the course and to support the tournament people in any way we can.
I find Coach and Lily next to the doors where the balls and pyramid molds are kept.
Of course Coach checks his watch before he says, “Morning, Olivia. Just like yesterday, let’s get each station ready.” He hands me a walkie-talkie and I clip it to the waistband of my mom shorts.
Thankfully, Lily helps, and we move down the line much faster than I did yesterday, although I still have a hard time getting a pyramid exactly right.
“Is this everyone who’s playing in the tournament?” I ask. While there are a lot of people here, only about half are players.
Lily finishes another perfect stack on her first try. “Players will trickle in all morning. There are different tee-off times based on how the player is ranked. The better you are, the later you start.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” I mean, it doesn’t at all, but I’m tired of looking stupid when it comes to golf. There’s already a line ready to start practicing, so we quickly get the last few pyramids finished, knowing we’ll have to start all over shortly.
After an hour of constantly replenishing balls, Coach Cantu calls for me over the walkie-talkie.
“Olivia, meet me at the check-in table,” he says over the static.
“Yes, Coach,” I answer, and walk across the green grass to a long table set up on the back patio of the clubhouse.
“Hey, Coach,” I say when I come up next to him.
“Olivia, this is Donald Williams, one of the tournament officials. You’re going to drive him around today.”
Mr. Williams barely spares me a glance. “Nice to meet you, Olivia.” His right arm is in a cast and sling and he’s studying a clipboard in his left hand.
Coach turns toward me and leans in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Normally, they drive themselves around, but obviously he needs some help. Your only job is to take him where he wants to go. Remember what I said about staying still and quiet while someone is teeing off, and stay to the cart paths. Reach out if you need anything.”
Coach leaves, and I’m left with Mr. Williams, who is still ignoring me. “I’ll go get a cart and pick you up just over there,” I say, pointing to an open area to the right of the patio.
As I walk to get the cart, I pull out Charlie’s phone so I can text him.
ME:I have to drive this guy around all day so there’s no way I’m making the party at 11. I need you to hang out near Danlee’s house though. Sorry!! Text me if you need me and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible
He’s probably still sleeping; the alarms aren’t set to go off for another thirty minutes.
I grab the closest cart and pull it around to pick up Mr. Williams. He’s got a bag, a box, a clipboard, and a cooler bag, and it takes us a few minutes to get everything loaded just the way he likes. It takes about thirty seconds for me to realize he’s very particular. Like ridiculously so.
The clipboard has a list of all the players and their start times and other information I can’t decipher. A glance at the top sheet shows the lineup for the guys, with Leo starting in third place and Locke just a few spots behind him. Those are the only names I recognize before he moves the clipboard out of view.
I wish I’d paid more attention to what Coach was saying this past semester, because it’s killing me not knowing what all these numbers and terms mean.
Mr. Williams seems to finally get settled. His clipboard in his lap, his phone in the cupholder, and a pen in his left hand. “Okay, let’s start at the tee box for hole one. I want you to pull up to each hole and stop. I will tell you when and where I want to go next. Please do not speak to me or anyone unless I tell you it’s okay.”
I nod, afraid to even answer him, and put the cart in drive. It lurches forward, but at least he doesn’t fly out of the open front window.
We don’t have far to go, and I pull up just off the tee box. I sit still while he makes notes on his clipboard although it’s obvious he’s struggling with using his left hand to write. I think about offering to write for him, but he told me not to speak, so I keep quiet. After a few minutes, he seems satisfied.
“Tee box two.” And since I don’t move as quickly as he thinks I should, he adds a clipped “Now.”
