Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Reggie had felt confused. Confused, yet fascinated at the same time. It didn’t take long for him to understand that the cheerleaders were less interesting than peeking at his teammates after every practice and game.
Right now he didn’t have a boyfriend. In high school he had had two relationships, but they both ended quickly, without too much pain. Actually, he didn’t have many friends, either. Most of his former schoolmates didn’t understand the passion for golf that he sacrificed everything else for. A passion born when, as a child, he went with his parents, who were not wealthy at all, to play some balls at a Chicago country club one weekend.
While touring he had found a couple of friends. Or maybe it would be more correct to say acquaintances: an Asian man, who wasn’t the most liked because during the previous season he’d won the Rookie of the Yearaward and didn’t pass up any chance to remind everybody, and another American guy from Seattle named Moses. Reggie really liked Moses, he was good company, but unfortunately, they didn’t often participate in the same tournaments.
In the end, his best friend was his caddie. As to love…well, he still had to find the one
“Hey, Reggie. Time’s up.”
Carlo’s voice stirred him from his thoughts. He quickly checked his wristwatch: it really was time to stop practice. Observing the scratched watch face and the worn-out band, he wondered if he would ever become famous enough to be the spokesman of some expensive timepiece. He felt good imagining his image next to a Rolex or an Audemars Piguet.
“What do you think about a walk on the Boardwalk? We could get something to drink.”
Reggie nodded and took off his cap, showing his brown mop, lightly paler at the ends, now sweaty. In their terms, “something” meant a cold beer for Carlos and an orange juice for him.
“You know, your caddie-manager-doctor-friend-uncle-etcetera suggests you forget a little about the tournament and go have fun,” Carlos continued, putting an arm on Reggie’s shoulders.
“Okay, but let’s do something fast; I need to concentrate,” Reggie grumbled, wiggling out of the embrace to put away his putter.
Carlos crossed his arms on his chest and gave Reggie a surly look. “You really need to find a boyfriend and fuck more.”
Reggie smiled wistfully. “I wish I could, Carl. If only…”
* * * *
Forty minutes later, Carlos was parking the rented Mercury in one of the spaces right by the sea. They took a short walk on the boardwalk, around girls who seemed to belong in the latest issue of Playboyand guys on colorful skateboards.
A young woman stopped Reggie to ask if he was that Canadian actor, Shawn Ashmore, one of the X-Men, because if so, she desperately wanted his autograph. Embarrassed, Reggie said no, he wasn’t that actor, and he barely knew who she was talking about, but he would consider it a compliment. The girl went away without even bidding him farewell or apologizing for disturbing him.
When they passed by a sports bar—The Stag—they agreed it was just the right place for a drink. Well, it was as good as any of the others.
They crossed the street running, avoiding a couple of speeding cars, and then Carlos whistled
“What?” Reggie asked, hands in his pockets.
His caddie was peering through the window of the shop next to the bar. “Look here! These crystals…one prettier than the other. They’re so cool.”
The young man glanced in the window, distracted. The shop sold new age memorabilia and organic products. All things Carlos’s wife adored.
“Vera would love that one…” Carlos murmured, talking to himself. “I’m going in to take a look. You go inside and order.”
Reggie nodded and started walking again, while Carlos opened the red wooden door of the shop and the bell rang, announcing his entrance. Reggie entered the bar and the calm mid-day atmosphere in there atmosphere wrapped around him like a velvety caress.
The smell of cinnamon and fresh biscuits was everywhere; the idle talk of the patrons was muffled by wood panels and all the TVs were tuned to a boxing match.
He looked around, satisfied: the bar had his complete approval. There were a couple of groups, three people at the counter, and a few free tables. He approached the barmaid and asked for an orange juice for him and a Miller for Carlos.
“Just a moment, honey,” the blonde woman behind the counter tittered.
Reggie moved away to one of the free stools and sat down. His restless mind ran over the tournament circuit, the slopes of the most difficult greens, the proper clubs to use, the expected atmospheric conditions for the next four days…
Right, the weather! He took his phone from his pocket, went online, and started looking at the weather forecast.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone