summer romance (e.d.)

seven

anna

i wait anxiously for the twins to come outside for their practice time.

it's not grayson i'm worried about— it's ethan.

if he tells everyone, i'll be the laughing stock.
last night i talked to a guy named liam for hours, and i really don't need him ruining that for me. i've dated very few boys in my lifetime and this summer i just want to be different, and not myself.

the front door opens, revealing ethan. i make myself as small as possible as he huffily throws his bag in the back of the cart.

he slides into the second row, farthest away from me, and mumbles, "drive."

i cock an eyebrow. "where's grayson?"

"sick," he spits. "from your guys' little party last night."

i stop, resting my hands on the wheel. "should we not be going then?"

"my mom is making me. drive before i get up there and do it myself."

i immediately lay on the gas and begin our short drive to the holes.

ethan gets out at the first one, feet dragging a little.

"hey, just relax," i offer, like grayson would if he were here.

instead of taking my advice, he glares at me and lines up his club.

there's so much wrong with it.

1. his feet aren't shoulder width apart. he's standing like he's balancing on a tightrope.

2. he's bending his arms during his practice swings. keep them straight and sturdy, dude.

3. his follow through sucks. it's like he gives up as soon as he hits the ball. the after part is the most important.

he throws his head back in a groan as he sees where his ball landed.... which is not very far away.

"the hips," i whisper. "turn your hips but don't move your legs. shift your weight on the insides of your feet, and you'll be facing directly at where you're ball is supposed to be hit."

he scoffs, but picks up another ball and hits it again. this time, i can tell he focused on my advice. the ball goes a good 40 feet farther than his last one, and his lips part as he looks at it bounce across the green.

"you're strong, but not strategic," i say, standing up from my spot on the cart. "you're using your arms for it all, when really it's all in the legs. your backswing is crooked and you need to keep your left arm straight."

he looks at me, this time without a glare but with genuine confusion. "do you play golf?"

i shrug. "yes."

"but..." his lips part. "you told grayson you didn't?"

i step forward, locking eyes with him.
"i guess i tell a lot of people false things. sorry about that, by the way. but please don't tell jackie and liam."

he shakes his head. "there's no reason why i shouldn't."

"what if i help you?" i blurt quickly.

he furrows his eyebrows, picking up his tee.
"what?"

"since you're not the greatest at golf and the rest of your family is, what if i help you? in return for your silence about my white lie."

he scoffs. "look, i don't need your help, alright?"

i motion around us. "clearly you do."

ethan thinks for a moment, than shakes his head. "no way."

i shrug, sitting back in the driver seat of the golf cart. "fine. enjoy being a family disappointment."

as soon as the words leave my mouth, i regret them immediately. ethan doesn't scowl at me, but he stares at his feet. that makes me feel worse, almost.

"i didn't mean that," i say. "i'm sorry."

"well," he sighs, looking back up. "you're not wrong. but no. i'm not getting help from you."

"fine," i say dully. "be that way."

"i will," he says cockily, sliding in the back seat yet again.

i drive him to his second ball, and he inspects the angle to the hole.

"you need to turn your body a couple degrees to the left," i call out. "you're aiming for that tree over there currently."

he's quiet, but does as i say.

i watch as he lines up again, choking up more on the 7-iron. my advice, again.

ethan swings, and his form is significantly better. i can tell he notices by how long his eyes follow the ball in the air.

i'm about to say something when another cart rolls up beside us. three boys and a girl sit on it, laughing a little. even though i've never seen them before, i still shield my face.

"hey buddy!" one of them calls out to ethan.

he turns around, and immediately rolls his eyes when he sees them.

"your 7 isn't gonna work for this hole," he snickers. "you've got too far of a distance to go. i would consider using your driver again. maybe a hybrid?"

ethan's face flares red, and i whip my head around to them. i keep my sunglasses on my eyes and my hat low on my head.

"actually, the 7 is perfect for this hole. he needs it to go about 135 yards, which is about what it recommends. that is.... unless you're using women's clubs?" i ask the guy, just trying to embarrass him.

he stutters for a second, but says, "who are you? why're you here?"

"doesn't matter. it's not even your turn to be on this hole right now. haven't you ever heard of golfer's etiquette?" i ask sweetly.

the guy driving rolls his eyes, but moves off the green anyway.

"what the hell was that?" ethan whispers to me meanly.

i shrug. "he was making fun of you."

"yeah, and i can fight my own battles. just leave me alone," he remarks.

"if you had a teacher, they wouldn't be making fun of you anymore," i say just as he's about to turn away.

he stops in his tracks for a few moments, then sighs.

"how much do you charge by the hour?" he finally mumbles.

"i coach in return for your silence," i say.

ethan turns around. "deal."