The New Girl

ROSELYNN

I looked up at the sky as I stepped through the back doors of the school. It looked like it was about to rain. I looked down at my phone and checked the time.

I started making my way towards the ball field, taking my time walking down the steps. When I reached the bottom, I felt someone’s eyes on me.

I stopped and looked around, wondering who was staring at me. When I found no one, I shrugged it off and continued on my way.

When I made it to the field, I saw Aisha talking with a woman who looked to be in her thirties, with brown hair that was pulled into a tight ponytail.

“Roselynn!” Aisha called out when she saw me. She started waving her hands enthusiastically over her head. I laughed and waved back.

When I made it over to her, she turned to the woman. “Coach, this is Roselynn. Roselynn, this is Coach Byrd. I’ll leave you two to talk. Bye!”

Aisha ran off into what I guessed was the locker room.

“What can I help you with?” Coach Byrd asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I would like to try out for the team,” I said, straightening my shoulders.

“Position?” Coach Byrd asked, looking down at a clipboard.

“Pitcher and third baseman,” I said proudly.

“Come back tomorrow. You can try out then. If I think you can make it, then we’ll go over everything that being on this team means, and everything you have to do to be on the team.”

She tucked her clipboard under her arm before turning around and walking away.

“Well...alright then.” I guess that was that.

I walked away from the field after waving bye to Aisha. Once I made it to my car, I pulled out my phone and called Ramona.

“ROSELYNN!” Ramona screamed when she picked up. I winced and pulled the phone away from my ear before slowly putting it back.

“So.” I smiled to myself. “I have tryouts tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s great! By the way, I have absolutely nothing to do this weekend,” she fake-cried.

I laughed. “Well, if I don’t have anything else to do, I’ll come and get you—if your mom doesn’t care.”

“Great! I’ll see you this weekend. Got to go!”

“Bye, Ramona.” I tucked my phone into my pocket and got into my car, a smile still on my face.

But the next day, my nerves were getting the best of me. I kept biting my thumbnail while looking down at my feet.

“Are you okay?” Aisha asked, leaning against the wall beside me.

“Nerves,” I mumbled.

Aisha threw her arm around my shoulders and leaned against me so I was holding most of her weight. “Don’t stress, hun. You’ve got this.”

I smiled and she stood back up. “Let’s go,” she called over her shoulder as she walked out of the locker room.

I took a deep breath then slowly let it out. I could do this.

I took another deep breath, then walked out of the locker room.

***

“I told you not to worry!” Aisha screamed.

I laughed and nodded.

“Roselynn, Aisha, be ready for the game on Friday,” Coach Byrd called as she walked past us.

“Yes, ma’am,” we said in unison.

Aisha and I walked out of the locker room and towards my car. “Do your parents even know that you were trying out for the team?” Aisha asked.

“It’s just me and my dad. I’ll tell him this afternoon.”

“Okay,” she chirped, although from the look on her face I could tell she wanted to ask more, wanted to know where my mother was.

But I wouldn’t tell her. It wasn’t something I talked about a lot, and telling people that I just met what had happened all those years ago was not something I was in the habit of doing.

“Do you need a ride home?” I asked, trying to distract myself from my thoughts.

“Nope. Someone’s on the way to come get me.” She leaned against my car and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Want me to wait here with you?” I offered, standing beside her.

“It’s alright, he’s pulling in now. See you tomorrow, Rose!” Aisha yelled over her shoulder as she got into a car.

I waved at her through the window, then got in my own car and started driving home.

The closer I got to my house, the more I got excited. I couldn’t wait to tell my dad. I hoped he would be proud of me.

I parked my car in the garage and ran into the house.

“Dad!” My voice echoed through the house. I waited a few seconds for a reply, then ran up the steps.

“Dad!” I called out again. I still got no answer. I looked in his office, and in the bedroom, but found no sign of him.

I sighed. He probably had to work late tonight.

I shuffled into my bedroom and took a long shower, then sat at my desk and pulled out my homework. I had to do something to keep myself from falling asleep.

Hours later, around one in the morning, I heard the front door open, then the sound of someone stumbling up the steps. I rushed out of my bedroom.

I saw my dad walking—or more like shuffling—towards his bedroom. His red hair was disheveled, and I could smell the alcohol from where I stood.

“Dad?” I whispered.

He turned around and looked at me. His face was flushed, and his eyes were glassy and unfocused. I knew that he was drunk.

That could only mean that my mother was bothering him again.

“Dad, guess what—”

“Why are…you st-still up?” he asked, anger tinting his voice.

“I just wanted to tell you—”

“I don’t... want to... to... to hear it. It’s not important,” he slurred before storming into his room.

I looked at his closed bedroom door, tears clouding my vision. Then I walked into my room and laid down on my bed.

This was nothing new, so why did my heart still hurt?

I twisted and turned before deciding that I wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. I huffed a sigh and picked up my phone. I needed to talk to someone.

Ramona picked up after several rings. “What’s happened? Is your dad drinking again?” she whispered.

I smiled sadly. Ramona always knew what was wrong. She was the one I would call whenever my father was drinking.

“Yeah,” I whispered back.

“Tell me what happened,” she said, sounding fully awake.

I told her about how I’d tried to tell him about making the softball team. About how he’d gotten angry and stormed off.

“You could tell him tomorrow?” she offered.

“I’ll try. It’s not like he’s ever home long enough to realize I’m not here.”

“Well, try anyway. I don’t think he will like it if you have a game and don’t get home until late,” she said.

“Yeah, I guess not...” I stopped to yawn before looking at my alarm clock.

“I’m sorry for waking you up. I’ll let you get back to sleep,” I apologized.

“It’s all good. What are best friends for, if not for two a.m. conversations?”

I smiled to myself, and we told each other goodnight before I hung up and put my phone back on charge.

I sighed and stared at the ceiling of my bedroom, knowing that this was going to be a long, sleepless night.