Many thanks to MathLeft for discussing this story with me, and reviving my interest in continuing it. It’s amazing what a little feedback can do for a writer!

Gordo took a deep breath before putting the phone to his ear.

“Dad!” he exclaimed cheerily, almost flippantly. “What’s up?”

“Hey! How are you, David? I just wanted to say hello, but I can’t seem to get you on your cell phone…”

Gordo watched Sid Pryor walk down the steps and head towards the Mess Hall. At least he had the decency to make himself scarce and create a little privacy for this father/son conversation.

“Yeah, well,” Gordo answered, “they don’t let us bring cell phones to practice, there’s really nowhere to put them, so I leave mine in the cabin. But I’m not in the cabin. I’m just getting in after being out on the field most of the day.”

“Oh, really?” Howard Gordon said, adding expectantly, “So… how’s it going?”

Gordo hesitated, then admitted, “Well…It’s okay, I guess…”

“Okay? Not terrible?” Howard asked hopefully.

“Yeah, well, you know…” As much as Gordo had not been looking forward to this call, hearing his Dad’s familiar voice now made him feel…homesick…nostalgic…and he suddenly decided it wasn’t fair to hold any of this against him.

“I guess…” Gordo admitted. “I guess I’m…well, I think I’m better at this than I thought I would be.”

He could almost hear his father smiling through the phone as he heard the words, “You always were good at baseball, David. Remember---”

“Yeah, that’s just it. I guess I do remember something about how to do this,” Gordo said, surprised at how excited he was to be talking baseball with his dad. “It’s kind of coming back to me. And I’m getting better at it. And I’ve kind of…well, I’ve been playing second base, and everybody says I’m doing really good out there with my fielding.”

“Well, I’m happy to hear that!” Howard Gordo replied, his delight evident in the tone of his voice. “I knew you had it in you, David. And most of all, I’m just glad you’re having fun, and experiencing some level of success. In fact, Sid has just been telling me that his son, Greg---you know Greg, don’t you? We met him that first day---“

“Yeah. I know Greg,” Gordo replied quietly.

“Well, I guess Greg’s been raving to his dad about what a good ball player you are, and such a smart sharp kid.”

“That’s nice,” Gordo uneasily, determined not to let himself be affected.

“And Sid’s impressed that Greg would think that highly of you,” Howard went on. “In fact, Sid was just telling me that they’re thinking of inviting you up to the house one night for dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“A bar-b-que,” Howard confirmed. “I hear Sid’s a fire demon at the grill and can conjure up one delicious rack of ribs.”

Gordo groaned.

“David! What’s wrong?”

Gordo sighed. He had just made the heartfelt decision not to have anything else to do with Greg. Going over his house for a bar-b-que didn’t fit in well with that commitment. Of course, he couldn’t tell any of this to his dad, so instead, he lied, “Well…you know…it’s like this, Dad…cos…cos, as I told you, I am so good out in the field, I kind of get special treatment from some of the coaches here, and I think some of the other kids are maybe a little jealous of me already, so I wouldn’t want to do anything to…you know…fuel that jealousy, I wouldn’t want to make it any worse than it is, I wouldn’t want them to think that I’m, like, a ‘teacher’s pet,’ or anything like that, know what I mean?”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Howard said. “But listen, David, you’ve got to face the facts. Wherever you go, whatever you do, for the rest of your life, you’re always going to be better than most other people, so there are always going to be people who are jealous of you. You need to learn now how to deal with that now. You can’t let that stop you from living your life, and from being all that you can be.”

Gordo hung on to the phone, speechless. He didn’t often have a chance to talk on the phone with his father, but hearing his voice now, after not hearing it at all for so many days, gave him a new perspective, and a new appreciation of his father’s attitude. For maybe the first time in his life, Gordo felt convinced that dear old dad was not just spouting out what the psychology books suggested a father should say to a son in order to increase his self-esteem. There was something not only proud, but also very real, about this advice. Gordo was shocked by the realization that his dad was truly speaking from his heart.

“Look, David,” the elder Gordon went on. “I didn’t send you off to baseball camp just to learn about baseball. There are life lessons to be learned here as well. Baseball is only a metaphor for life, son. I hope, wherever you go, whatever you do, you’ll always strive to learn these other lessons as well. Lessons about life. Revelations about yourself.”

Gordo snorted silently. Yeah. That’s right. But Dad didn’t really want to know some of the “lessons” he’d been participating in, or what kind of “revelations” he’d been having about himself since he got to this baseball camp.

“Well…okay…” Gordo agreed, figuring this was the best way to steer the conversation away from potential danger and discomfort.

“Okay, what?” Howard asked.

“Okay, I guess…I guess if I get invited…I’ll go…”

“Now that’s the spirit!” Howard returned, pleased. “You’ll have a great time, David, I’m sure. I wish I could be there with you, to have some of those ribs…”

They spoke for a while longer after that, with Gordo asking about his Mom, followed by a short discussion on the weather, and a word or two about the upcoming school year. All in all, talking with his dad was not the horrible experience Gordo had at first thought it would be. In fact, as he clicked off the phone, it seemed to him that was the first time in a long time that he and his dad had had a decent conversation that didn’t dissolve into sarcasm and yelling. It actually felt good.

But as he left the office cabin and headed over to the locker room for the much-needed shower, Gordo fervently hoped he did not get invited over to the Pryors’ house for dinner. He tried to think of ways to get out of it, if asked. A stomachache or headache was always convenient. Or he could lie and say he was a strict vegetarian; but then his dad might find out, and there would be too much explaining to do.

Of course the best solution to this problem would be to not get invited at all. He supposed he could do everything within his power he could to avoid Greg altogether from this point on. Well, that might work…but it wasn’t likely. He had a feeling, with both of the Pryors, if they got an idea in their head that they wanted something, they didn’t let anything stop them from getting it.

No, it would probably be best if he actually had other plans, plans that prevented him from accepting a dinner invitation. Well, there was always the poker game. In fact, tonight! There was a poker game tonight! He showered as quickly as he could, changed into fresh clothes and walked briskly back towards his cabin. As he walked, he wondered how far he could go in using this poker game as an excuse for not accepting a dinner invitation. It might be a flimsy excuse, but pathetically, it was the best one he had.

When Gordo first got back to his cabin, nobody else was there. He took his phone from his locker and saw that in addition to several calls from his dad, Miranda had also tried to call him a few times. Suddenly, he decided it was stupid to be annoyed at her for her comments on the phone the other day, and now, quite desperately in fact, he wanted to talk to her. If for no other reason than because she was a GIRL. He had been surrounded by guys for far too long now, and it was starting to mess with his mind.

Yes! That was it, all this stuff with Greg! It was like in prison, when guys start going after other guys, simply because there are no women around. In any normal situation they would never even look at another guy, but under the circumstances…

This thought made Gordo feel a little better. He also felt better because he had made the decision to call Miranda. But before he could lift the cell phone to his ear, the door burst open and Charlie and the Gellars came in, followed by a couple of other campers from Cabin Six.

“Time to party!” Charlie announced, waving a bag of potato chips that he had no doubt swiped from the mess hall with an admirable amount of trickery and thievery. “Gordon! Mikey and Jason are coming into the game, and they bring to the table an awesome collection of baseball cards, some of which may actually be worth something on Ebay. Are you in?”

Gordo was in. Miranda would have to wait. But she did not wait too long. The boys were all set up around the table, the cards dealt, the music blasting, and the sun had not yet even set, when Gordo’s cell phone once again began to sing.

The good Gellar began to chant, “Oh ho ho! Who could that be? Could that be Gordon’s special girlfriend?”

Gordo looked at the phone. “Yep. It is,” he announced.

“Woo hoo hoo!”

Gordo sighed. “I better talk to her this time,” he said, feigning a resigned attitude. “If I don’t start paying her some attention, she’ll think I’m mad at her, and then when I get back home I won’t get any for a long, long time…”

Gordo heard himself lying and wondered where this was coming from. Was he just playing the part, or was he trying to prove something to himself?

There was no time to ponder the question, as he flipped open the phone, got up from his chair and walked towards the door, saying loudly, “Miranda! Sweetie! What’s up?”

He was out the screen door, pacing in front of the cabin before Miranda recovered from the “Sweetie” enough to say, “Gordo, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! I’m fine! What’s up with you?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to reach you,” Miranda said, “and you’re not exactly easy to get in touch with. I’ve been worried about you…”

“Well, no need to worry, dear. It’s just that it’s busy here, I’ve been pretty busy, you know…” Gordo said, importantly.

“What are you doing right now?”

“Playing poker…with the guys,” he said, hoping to impress Miranda with the fact that he had made some new friends.

Miranda was surprised, but her surprise expressed itself in a short, “Really? You don’t say! So what is it? Strip poker?”

“What?!” Gordo cried, his bubble of self-importance suddenly burst. “NO!” he exclaimed. Then, “Fuck, Miranda! Fuck! Why would you even say something like that?”

“Me?” Miranda shot back. “Did you just hear yourself just now? You used the F- word! Not once, but twice! Why would you say something like that? What are they teaching you in that camp , anyway?”

“Nothing that would concern you,” Gordo said dejectedly. “Just a bunch of sports stuff…”

“Like how to swear?”

“Okay, cut it out. I apologize for that. But really…what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking anything!” Miranda returned. “I was just making a joke. Geez! Sensitive much, Gordo?”

“Well, I guess I am,” he said, trying to cover his tracks. “I guess I’m just…you know…a little homesick or something…”

“Oooh…”Miranda said, more quietly, and sounding much more sympathetic. “How much longer do you have to be there?”

“Another week. I’ll be home Saturday night. Not this Saturday. Next Saturday. “

“You gonna make it?” Miranda asked.

“I hope so,” Gordo said, and he meant it sincerely, though he was not referring to homesickness. “Hey!” he said suddenly, to keep himself from sinking back into those thoughts he really didn’t want to be thinking. “It’s good to hear from you. I mean that, Miranda. So tell me…what are you up to on this fine Friday night?”

“Nothing,” Miranda said heavily. “Yes, it’s Friday night, but Lizzie is grounded, and you’re away, and I’m so…freaking…BORED!” She made a sound that was something like a stifled scream, then said, “You know what, Gordo? I think we really need a much wider circle of friends, don’t you think?”

Gordo agreed. “Sure. But we’ll be going to high school now, in a few weeks, so I’m sure we’ll meet new people, I’m sure we’ll make more friends….and …you know…”

He was reluctant to continue this last thought, but then, at the last minute, he spit it out. “Look. We’re growing up. It’s inevitable. I’m pretty sure that soon we’ll all be going out with different people. Boyfriends and girlfriends, I mean.”

He wondered if Miranda would snort again at the idea of him having a girlfriend, but she didn’t, and he felt encouraged to go on. “You know, I get it, Miranda, what you were saying to me last time. I know you don’t think Lizzie would ever date me, but I’m sure there might be some girl, somewhere, in high school who might actually consider---”

“Yes,” Miranda said, certainly. “I’m sure there is. I’m sure you’ll find someone, some girl.”

“You are?” Gordo asked in amazement. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, of course! Just because Lizzie doesn’t see you that way doesn’t mean every girl in the whole world is going to have the same attitude. Despite what you might think, Lizzie is not the center of the universe. And I’m sure the universe is full of girls who can make their own decisions about what kind of guys they might like, and who they might like to go out with.”

“Then…who?” Gordo asked. “You got any ideas which girls might be interested in me as…as boyfriend material?”

There. He’d said it. He’d used the dreaded phrase that had caused so much trouble on their last phone conversation.

And the phrase was not lost on Miranda. She remembered it well and suddenly gasped, “Oh my God, Gordo! About that…about everything I said last time...I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I know I must have hurt your feelings, but that wasn’t my intention at all. I think we just had some miscommunication, or something like that. You understand, don’t you, that just because Lizzie doesn’t want to date you, that doesn’t mean that other girls out there might not want to---”

“Who?” Gordo asked.

“Who?”

“Yeah, who? What other girls? Do you know anyone in particular that you think might…be interested…?”

Gordo heard himself, and knew this was not typical of who he had always been. He had always felt perfectly willing to wait for “nature to take its course,” as his parents were always putting it. He always knew the day would come when he would feel inexplicably drawn to a girl. Well, in fact, that day had come, with Lizzie. But alas, it was not to be. And now, after all the crazy stuff that had been going through his head ever since he met Greg, he felt a strong urge (if he couldn’t have Lizzie) to at least be attached to some girl, any girl. It almost felt imperative that he start high school walking down the hall with a real live girlfriend on his arm.

“Hey!” he said suddenly, in answer to his own question. “How about Parker McKenzie? Do you think she still likes me?”

Gordo and Miranda talked about Parker, and some of the other girls they had known from middle school, picking out several potentials. Most of them were girls Gordo really had no interest in whatsoever, but as long as they weren’t repulsive, he was willing to consider asking them out.

“You know,” Miranda remarked, “you seem pretty anxious to have a girlfriend all of the sudden. Why this sudden…frenzy?”

“It’s not a frenzy!” Gordo objected. “I’m just thinking about my high school career. I want to start it out right. I don’t want to be the …dork, the dweeb, who can’t find a girlfriend. Hey! Miranda! If worse came to worse, would you consider being my girlfriend?”

“Oh, Gordo, that’s so romantic of you!” Miranda intoned with heavy sarcasm. Then, “What do you take me for? I am not so desperate for a boyfriend that I would pretend to be going out with someone!”

“What makes you think I’m talking about pretending?”

“Ewww!” Miranda exclaimed. “Are you crazy? You want us to actually go out, to kiss and make out and everything? Why? What’s gotten into you, Gordo?”

“Nothing,” he said airily. “It’s just that…well…who knows? Maybe something would happen, if we ever tried it.”

“News flash,” Miranda stated. “I have no desire to go out with you, Gordo. I mean, I love you as a friend and all, but as a boyfriend, that’s just not happening.”

They were in danger of getting back into that sensitive territory that had caused the rift on their last phone call, so Gordo held his tongue. And wisely so, for in a moment, Miranda was saying, gently, “Besides. I know you like Lizzie. That’s where your heart is. No girl ever wants to go out with a guy who’s drooling for another girl. That’s just not a good situation, know what I mean?”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Gordo said desperately. He leaned against the wall and looked out at the setting sun, feeling a sinking feeling deep inside him. “What am I supposed to do?” he repeated. “Lizzie’s the only girl I’ve ever wanted, and she won’t have me…”

“Someone else will come along,” Miranda said gently, philosophically. “Someone else who will make you forget all about Lizzie. That day will come. You’ll be all right, Gordo. I know it. That day will come.”

Gordo sighed. Someone who could make him forget about Lizzie? Anxiously, he wondered if that day had already come. He didn’t want to think about it.

He didn’t want to think about it, but later that night, after the poker game, when he was lying in bed and everything was quiet, he had to admit that whenever he found himself thinking about Greg, he wasn’t thinking about Lizzie. He couldn’t think about both of them at the same time.

And despite all the resolutions and commitments he was making within himself to change his ways and get his life back on track, when he was lying still in the night, he couldn’t stop thinking about Greg.