The Pitcher's Act

1

OLIVIA OLSEN

Sometimes, I question myself when I decided to attend a small liberal arts college, and that reason is because of all the stupid non-related major classes you have to take. In the liberal arts program, you must choose from Music, Theatre, or Art. The only good thing about taking these classes is that everyone in the college also had to take them. We're all in this together, minus the actual talented students.

"Alright, we've spent weeks learning the core of theatre, and now we are going to put it to the test." The class groans, me included. "Wow, don't sound too excited. I've paired everyone up with someone, mainly boy-girl." More groans escape from everyone's mouths. "You and your partner will reenact the play I chose for you."

"You got to be kidding me," Bella, my best friend, mutters beside me.

"You'll be performing in front of an audience. I am still deciding who, but it will be a full house for the full experience. How exciting! It gives you a real taste of the acting world."

No. God, no. I can't do this. "Fucking hell," I mutter, closing my eyes and putting my head in my hands.

"This will be the only grade in the books. Do well."

"Can he do that?" I say, sitting straight in my seat, staring doe-eyed at the professor. I guess he can. He is the professor.

Bella and I are both cheerleaders at Wake Forest. We met as roommates freshman year and haven't left each other's sides since. We try to take at least one class with each other a semester, one of our fun classes, since we have requirements to complete our education.

About eighty percent of students here are athletes, which is a curse and a blessing. If you aren't an athlete, you're considered chum to the rest of the school. Just kidding, but not really. The university treats the athletes like queens and kings. Always the first choice in everything.

But, as cheerleaders, most sports consider us non-athletes as they believe it's not one. They think we just shake our pompoms and do cartwheels. We try to be friends with everyone, but everyone always pulls the effort card, though I could squat a damn linebacker if I tried.

This semester, we chose theatre since it was a requirement of the school's liberal arts program, and we were graduating soon. We had to take it eventually. Now I'm seriously regretting it. Everyone who took this class previously had a different professor. This one is new, and he still has faith in us. I should have taken music.

I look around the room between my classmates. It was an even ratio: half girls, half boys. Mostly, athletes like everyone else. Most I know, and a few I have no clue who they were. It was a smaller school, so I knew many of the faces. Maybe I'll get to meet someone new.

"I chose the wrong outfit for this," I mutter, staring down at my oversized shirt and shorts you couldn't see. My hair was in a messy bun, unbrushed, and I'm sure the bags underneath my eyes weren't very appealing. Whoever my partner was, I hope I don't scare them.

Let's just say that it's a Monday.

Bella somehow talked me into going to the football house last night to watch the Eagles and Chiefs game. It wouldn't have been as bad if her boyfriend wasn't shoving shots down my throat, still celebrating yesterday's victory over Vanderbilt. I was definitely paying for it today.

Once our professor dismissed us, we all ran to look at the sheet of paper with our partners and play. Bella and I hadn't moved quickly enough, so we were stuck at the back of the line.

Everyone's eyes began searching for their partners, but no one seemed to be searching for mine. I realize why when I get up to the sheet of paper. I'd been paired with the devil. "No fucking way," I groan. I groan again when I see the play we have to reenact: Romeo and Juliet.

I looked at Bella's name, which had been paired with someone whose name I didn't recognize, but she did. She walked off to a handsome man wearing a Sigma Chi shirt. I snorted when I realized how she knew him. Her boyfriend was also in the frat.

I searched the auditorium for my partner but came up short. Maybe he was a no-show today. Good. Perhaps he'll never show up.

Bella seemed wrapped up in a conversation with the frat boy, so I walked out and headed for the library to finish a paper. I head out the doors into the warm fall air, where I see my partner, Colby Jones, leaning against the side of the building, his eyes on me. He smirked when he took in my appearance, eyes scanning my entire body, and I cursed myself for getting hungover. I march towards him, but he turns around and walks away. What the hell? I stop in my tracks and watch him walk away. How the hell am I going to be partners with him? How am I going to survive this? I can't even act.

I should drop the class. Yeah, I'll do that. I shouldn't let him win. I can't let him win.

Maybe I'll ask to switch partners. I walk up to a few others in the class and beg to change. They all say no, and I'm left with Colby.

I hate him. He hates me. We've hated each other since we met one night freshman year. I would think our feud would have passed by now, but seeing him looking at me brought it all back. I'm still not over it.

I hate how attractive that bastard is, too, with his stupid blonde curly hair that looks like a perm. I bet it's a perm. I need to find that out. He has these stupid bright green eyes that make you feel uneasy. I hated looking into them. He even had the strangest tattoo sleeve on his right arm. It was a lion, an angel, and a flag. It was the most random thing.

I could have gone the rest of my life without speaking to him again, but it looks like fate wasn't through with us. Is it possible to do this without having to see each other?

I stomp off to the library, angry and wanting to scream. I want to break something. Throw something.

Why do the worst things always happen to me? I swear. It's not like our professor knew our history. He just happened to pair us.

"Liv, wait up." I turn to see Bella jogging towards me. She looks at me, concerned. "You okay?"

I take a deep breath, "I don't know how I'm gonna do this. I'm going to strangle him."

"Liv, that was three years ago. Maybe it's time to get over and forget the whole thing. You're going to have to get along, somehow."

"I'm sorry, forget? Do you not remember what happened? Fuck him, and fuck all his friends. I'm going to the library. I'll see you later." With that, I stomped away without another word.

I enter the library, snag a seat on the bottom floor at a booth, and flip my MacBook open to work on my Human Physiology paper. I can't bring myself to finish it, and it's due tomorrow.

I scanned the library to see who was all in here. I always sit on the bottom floor so I can watch people. It was an easy way to pass the time. That's when my eyes connect with a familiar gaze. Colby. I almost have to take a double look at him. Is he really in the library? Has hell frozen over?

We glare at each other from across the room, neither of us making a move to look away. He can make the first move and talk to me. He already blew me off once today.

He sits at a table alone with his computer. I notice he has a mullet. A stupid fucking mullet. A curly hair mullet. He would have one. It makes the bastard even more attractive, and it makes me want to stab him with a pencil. I tear my gaze away from him, looking back at my computer. I need to focus. Finish the paper.

When I looked back up a little while later, Colby was nowhere to be seen. He's gone again.