Loser Like Me
Laird’s POV
Today is the last Saturday of September. The practice match with the opposing team from Rhode Island just finished at 11 o’clock. The match was delayed for an hour due to rain in the morning until 9 a. m.
I had changed my clothes before heading home. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to go home with wet and dirty clothes because of the mud. Plus, because earlier I did a slide to reach the base, almost all of my blue and white uniform was covered in brown stains.
I entered my house carrying a bag containing dirty clothes and shoes. I stepped into the laundry room and took out my dirty clothes and shoes from the bag. Aunt Myers would probably complain again when she saw these. Therefore, I decided to rinse them with water for a while before she came.
I turned on the water from the faucet to the bucket containing my clothes. My gaze was blankly focused on the strong stream of water. I swallowed nervously.
How could I not? Our team lost again, for the fourth time!
The coach was disappointed, the manager was disappointed, and even the supporters, consisting of friends and family, vented their disappointment by booing the opposing team players as they walked home earlier. It was embarrassing, but I couldn’t protest much considering my poor performance today.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.
I don’t know why, but we always failed to score at third base. Everyone was stuck and couldn’t move by the fielder in the last area. Yet he was only a year older than me.
“Damn!” I exclaimed angrily, hitting the wall.
“Laird?”
My father’s voice called out. I was startled and turned around. Hugo Evans was standing there in a complete golf shirt and khaki pants. He looked annoyed with both hands clasped.
“What are you doing?” my father asked.
“Nothing,” I replied quickly.
“I can see you watering the bucket. Are you going to wash your clothes?” He smiled wryly, his eyes gleaming.
“My clothes got dirty from mud during the game earlier. Aren’t you going out to play golf today?” I tried to change the subject quickly.
“Golf?” My father looked out the house’s window.
“Are you expecting me to go out and play golf in bad weather like this?” He tapped the window pane lightly with scornful lips.
“Well, I guess that’s true. Some of my friends don’t care about the weather and still play golf. They let their clothes get wet and dirty for as long as they could still score birdies.” This time, he turned to me.
“But I don’t like it. You know that, right? I’m sensitive to bad weather. I’m not like my friends, who are crazy about their hobbies.” He paused for a moment, looking straight at me.
“I’m not like you, Laird.”
He walked slowly toward me. Then he squatted down to look at me from below.
“I prefer to think rationally and avoid fanaticism about something that doesn’t benefit me. You know I play golf just to entertain clients, right?”
I nodded. Hugo’s large hand held the back of my neck as he leaned closer. I bowed as much as I could while my father stared intently.
“I hope you can obey me, Laird. I’ve said it many times: leave useless things like baseball. I’d rather you study or take extra courses on Saturdays.” My father didn’t release his gaze from my eyes, and I didn’t dare divert mine from his.
“But, of course, you’re just a kid. I’ll still give you leeway.”
My father released his grip on my neck and stood up again. He smiled warmly, as if there had never been a tense atmosphere at all. Nor with the way he looked at me with disappointment. The fake smile, typical of the Evans family’s cold corporate lawyer, concealed everything.
He walked out of the laundry room, and I sighed in relief. I quickly turned off the tap when the water in the bucket started to overflow. The muddy water soon flooded the bucket. Without delay, I immediately rinsed my uniform before my father came back.
About ten minutes after I finished cleaning my jersey and shoes, I went to the room and passed Lloyd, who was reading a book in the living room.
“Hi, Lloyd.”
“Hey, Laird,” he replied, looking up from his book.
I approached him, seated on the couch. My hands carefully pinched the corner of the book, and I tried to read its title.
“What are you reading?” I asked curiously about the cover of Lloyd’s book that I had never seen before.
“Just a vampire story.”
Of course, I just nodded because reading storybooks wasn’t my hobby. Unlike me, my eight-year-old brother preferred to read storybooks. Most of them were fantasy horror stories, and I avoided genres like that. Actually, I avoided all genres of stories, except for textbooks.
I yawned for a moment. Today was quite tiring, plus the loss. Therefore, I walked back to my room after patting Lloyd on the back. Before I could reach my room, the house’s bell door rang.
“Open it, Laird. Aunt Myers and mom are still out to the supermarket,” Lloyd said without looking away from his book.
When I opened the door, I immediately saw Fenella’s figure in an overdressed outfit. Her appearance raised both my eyebrows in surprise. She hadn’t shown up at the field this morning. What kind of dream was she having when she showed up with an excessive appearance, like a birthday clown?
“Fenella?” I asked to make sure, and the girl nodded.
She wore a pink dress with a floral pattern. Because her face looked very white, it seemed like she had applied too much face powder. In contrast, her lips looked purplish-red, a strange color. She tied her slightly curly hair on the right and left sides of her head, but I could see it was curlier than usual.
“Hi, Laird!”
She laughed awkwardly with awkward footwork. She raised both her hands and waved enthusiastically. If only she were more shameless, she might have hugged me with such enthusiasm.
“What do you want?” I asked coldly.
Throughout this week, I ignored her. I only spoke with her when necessary, mostly about class assignments. Sometimes, I spent the whole day just asking her to move her chair when she blocked my path from the table.
I was certainly still disappointed in her. Plus, she didn’t show up at the field this morning. It seemed like her savings were already enough to buy a gift for Adam.
“I’m here to pick you up,” Fenella said confidently with a wide smile.
“Pick me up for what?” I asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at her.
She grinned broadly with a falsely sweet voice. “To the toy store.”
“No, thank you.” I was about to close the door, but Fenella’s hands stopped it immediately.
“Hey, wait. Just wait a minute.”
Both of her hands pushed the door, and of course, I couldn’t bear to close it.