“Great game man. You sailed that last one right over that guys head.”
I shut my locker and can’t suppress my smile. “Thanks. I played my best, you know?”
“Well, you’ve brought a whole new dimension to the way the rest of us play. My game is better. I know what to look for more than I did. I really appreciate the help.”
I shrug. “Just doing my job.”
“Well, whatever deal they made with you, was worth it.” Dean holds his hand up to high five me.
I slap his hand and smile again. “Yeah well, I’m glad I’m here. Everybody has been great.”
“You comin’ out with us tonight?”
I have that assignment due. It’s two weeks late. “Yeah, I’ll bring Jesse.”
“Sweet. See you then.”
Dean slams his locker shut and walks off. I let out a long breath. I’m tired. Really tired, but I’ve been trying not to let it show. We won again, so I guess I’m still at the top of my game.
I just don’t know how much longer I can do this.
“Dude I can’t believe you hit that girl in the head,” Tony laughs heartily as he walks past. “Genius move.”
“Hey it slipped,” I laugh. “I apologized. She just…took it personally.”
“Timberlake.”
I stop laughing and look towards Coach’s office. He’s standing there, hands on his hips, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him look at me so seriously. “Yeah, Coach?”
He doesn’t say anything, just motions me to come into his office before walking back inside of it.
“What’s up with him?” Tony whispers.
I shrug and pull my shirt over my head. “Dunno. I’ll see you later.”
“Comin out tonight?” He calls after me.
“I’ll be there,” I say it quickly and make a bee line for Coach’s office before I can get stopped again. I have to admit, I’m a popular guy. They all love me here, and my teammates look to me for guidance and support. They know how valuable I am, how much they can learn from me, and I respect them, try to show them how to play the game from the heart.
Lately though, I think I’ve been hanging out a little too much. I know I’m hanging on by a thread in one of my classes. I don’t remember exactly when it was I started slipping, but I know I’ve dug myself into a hole. I’ve been playing it off as nothing, acting as if I’m invincible. Maybe it’s my ego. I let it get to me…that superstar status that comes with being a winner. It’s followed me around my whole life, and I grew to love it.
Sometimes I think I might love it a little too much. I guess it’s why I’m trying to go pro early. Once you’re there, feeling like this is the norm. You don’t have to worry about your ego, just everybody else’s. The scouts are coming after the holidays. My dad’s been talking to a few people. The Lakers are interested, Miami too, but they want to see me up close and personal first. Over the break I plan on going all out with my cardio and workout regiment. There’s a court not to far from my buddy’s house and I’ve already designated a three hour daily practice there. In a sense I’m not really getting a break, I’m just getting away from all this, but it’s a good thing. I’ve missed Trace, and it will be good to spend the holidays with him and his family.
“Hey Coach.” I walk in and smile for him. He’s sitting at his desk with a folder open in front of him, and the look on his face is telling me something just…isn’t right.
I’m nervous. That’s a first.
I spent two years with the Tarheels in North Carolina, and last year UCLA came out, gave me this big song and dance about how they needed me to come help their team. I didn’t want to leave. Ever since I was a kid I dreamed of playing for Carolina, and I was happy there, playing with my friends, having the people I loved cheer me on at all our home games. But UCLA offered me an amazing deal, and my dad all but signed the contract for me. I wouldn’t have felt right refusing it of course, not after Dad and I had that talk. It’s better for him. He can spend all his time with Tamara now.
LA is a world away from Carolina but I’ll be okay.
I’m trying to be okay, anyway, despite how homesick I’ve been.
“Have a seat.”
He motions me to sit in the chair in front of his desk, and I do it quickly. “What’s up?”
“Justin…I hate to have this conversation,” he sighs, and rubs his face with his hands. “At this juncture, it’s the last thing the team needs, but I don’t have a choice.”
I just stare at him.
“I received notification today, that if you don’t hand in an exceptional paper when term starts up again, you’re going to fail your English class.”
I swallow. “Oh.” I say it like I’m clueless, but the reality is I’ve known this was going to happen for weeks. There’s no real excuse. I was too busy partying to bother, and…yeah, I can’t write a paper to save my life. My girlfriend, Jesse, wanted us to have at least one class together, so I transferred into her English Lit, figuring it would be fine. Every other class I’ve attended has been an easy A. The teachers here love me because I’m a winner.
Not Fitzburg.
She’s a fucking hard ass, and come to find out, she loves failing star athletes. I’m sure she’d love nothing more than to send me packing, ruin my chance at the draft. Ruin my chance at being a winner.
And if I’m not a winner, who am I?
“Justin, I’m not kidding.”
“I…well…” I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “I’m going to get to it.”
“Professor Fitzburg has every intention of failing you,” he tells me, bluntly. “She’s given you extension upon extension because you just transferred, but she’s not playing around anymore. You need to do something.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Well, isn’t there anything you can do to stall her? Maybe she can give me another assignment.”
“I’ve tried everything,” he sighs. “The only thing you can do at this point, is the work.”
“They wouldn’t really throw me out,” I scoff. “I mean, they wanted me here so badly…”
“It doesn’t matter. Rules are rules, and you have to maintain that GPA if you want to play.”
“Well what am I supposed to do? I mean, I have to train all break if I want to make an impact on the scouts.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Justin. But you better figure it out, because they’re not going to take it very well upstairs if you reneg on your deal. They can sue you, do you realize that?”
Suddenly, I feel like a very large weight has been dropped on my chest, and it becomes hard to breathe. “They never…but they never said…”
“They never said because they didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to transfer into a class that you couldn’t pass in your sleep, Justin,” he sighs roughly and opens his desk drawer, tossing a small business card onto the top of it. “I normally wouldn’t do this, but it’s an emergency. Just know that I didn’t give you this information, understand?”
I lean forward and read the words on the card. Come to Walman’s Dormitory at 6 o’clock tonight. There will be a phone in Box 561. Pick up on the third ring and be prepared to discuss what you need. “What is this?”
“They write papers, and not just any papers. They give you exactly what you need. I set up the phone call for you, so you better be there to answer it. You still have money left I’m assuming?”
Is he kidding? “Plenty.”
“Good. Get it done, and let me know when you do.”
I get up. “Coach.”
“Hm.”
“I just got a little in over my head…that’s all.”
“Do you want the draft?”
“Of course I do.”
r32;“Then stop partying, forget the girl, and focus on your damn priorities. You can pay me back with an extra hour in that weight room.”
“Yes sir.”
He waves me off and I walk out of his office, gently closing the door behind me. The locker room is empty now. Perfect. Nobody has to know about this, and when they ask me what happened, I’ll just tell them he wanted to congratulate me personally on todays game.
It’s what a winner would say, and that’s what I am.
I do my hour in the weight room, and after showering, I head straight for the location described on the card. It takes me about forty five minutes, I get lost really easily around this campus because I haven’t been here long enough, but thanks to a couple of helpful (and awestruck) women, I’m able to find my way. I find the mailbox too, and when I open it, there is a small throwaway type cell phone waiting for me. I wait about ten minutes and then it starts to play a subtle ringtone. I look behind me and all around to ensure nobody is watching, and then I pick it up on the third ring.
“H-hello.”
“What do you need, and when do you need it?”
It’s a woman’s voice, and she doesn’t sound like she’s playing around. “I need an English paper as soon as you can get it to me. I’m beyond my extension and I’ll fail otherwise.”
“Subject?”
“Hamlet…uh…” I reach into my back pocket and pull out the crumpled piece of paper that I scribbled the assignment on. “Despite Hamlet’s highly developed moral nature, he becomes morally compromised by delaying his revenge. Discuss.”
“Okay, and the professor?”
“Fitzburg.”
The line goes silent for a very long time, and I begin to think that she’s hung up on me. “Hello?”
“Name?”
“I have to give you my name?”
“Obviously if I’m going to write a paper for you I need your name.”
Shit. I’m an idiot. But, I guess if Coach thinks this is the best option for me, I don’t have a choice. “It’s Justin Timberlake.”
More silence.
“Look can you do it or not,” I say harshly. “I’m sort of desperate here.”
“I’m going to need to meet with you in person.”
This is so fucking weird. It’s supposed to be anonymous and now I have to have a meeting with this girl? All that’s going to do is increase my chance of getting caught. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to meet.”
“Take it or leave it.”
I groan. Just great. “Well we need to be in private.”
“Obviously.”
She’s talking to me like I’m dumb, and I hate that. Nobody ever does that to me, they usually glorify or compliment me instead. “Tell me where and I’ll be there.”
“Student union, tomorrow at five am. Be there.”
“But…”
The line goes dead.
I pull the phone away from my ear and stare it stupidly for a few moments. That’s it? Really? I press every button on the keypad, trying to figure out how to get the girl back on the line, but it’s useless. She planned it this way.
Maybe I should just tell Coach that I can’t go through with it, that Fitzburg can just fail me. Do I want to be a number one draft pick? Of course, but I don’t want to be humiliated if I get caught cheating.
Then I start to think about Dad. If I let him down, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look him in the eye again. All of his sacrifices will have gone unnoticed, all of his dreams will have been shattered. The reason she left will have been for nothing…it’ll be my fault, just like I always told myself.
I can’t let it happen.
I shake my head roughly and toss the phone back in the box, slamming the small door shut in disgust.
I have no choice.
My own cell phone vibrates in my pocket next, and when I pull it out, I find a text from Jesse, asking me when I want to meet for dinner. It makes me smile. Yeah, dinner and a party…the perfect cure for stress.
I mean, I shouldn’t have to stress. I’m an MVP headed to the NBA, and I can pay someone else to worry about passing my class.
Right.
Tomorrow morning, everything will be right again.
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