Out of Our League by Dahlia Adler

Author:Dahlia Adler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends

* * *

“But I … I mean, I’m not ready,” I said, facing the reality that I was going to have to play an official match.

“You’ll be fine,” Adrine said, but Diane laughed at that. They had both seen my swing.

“You’re going to have to play sometime,” Imani said with a smile, putting her glove on. She’d really improved a lot and was ranked fourth behind Chelsea. Imani was already sporting her visor and it looked good on her. She had the golf vibe I was sorely lacking.

“Yeah, Roya, it’ll be fun,” Millie said. The traitor. She promised me this day would never come! Usually when we hosted another school, I’d spend the time hanging out with Coach O’Connell at the snack bar area of the club that happily agreed to be our home base for matches once Chelsea’s parents called both the school and the club. How quickly things were arranged after one little phone call.

“I was planning on enjoying a cup of cranberry ginger ale while watching a ton of videos of that girl from Virginia who can deadlift two hundred pounds,” I said.

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about it,” Coach O’Connell said. “It’s only nine holes, not the full eighteen. You know, you might surprise yourself and have some fun out there.”

The team from Travers Prep approached us at the beginning of the course. They were dressed like us, khaki pants, cleats, team shirt from the school. Unlike us, they all had matching club bags that looked brand-new, and their faces were serious, like they meant business. Our equipment was a lot of hand-me-downs from family members or friends and old equipment the boys’ team no longer used.

Millie paired off with their best player, and the two of them put their club bags on their backs and headed out for hole number one. We never had caddies to carry our bags or tell us what club to use and when. The biggest bummer of all was we didn’t get to ride in golf carts. That I would have signed up for in a heartbeat.

The matchups kept being announced and players set off on their journeys while I waited to see who I would lose to. Eventually I was the only player left on either team.

“Hey, that’s too bad! Not enough players yet again,” I said with a giant smile. I put my hand on Coach O’Connell’s shoulder. “Well, Coach, cranberry ginger ales on me while we wait for the troops to return.”

“I’ll take a rain check on that,” Coach said, nodding her chin at a tiny blur that bounced toward us.

“Sorry!” the blur said, the giant bag of clubs overpowering them. “I was in the restroom.”

“That’s fine, Andretti,” the Travers Prep coach said. “You and your opponent head over to the ninth hole.”

“Hi!” the blur said from underneath a hat, extending a hand to me.

“Hey,” I said, looking down when I shook hands. “I’m Roya. She/her pronouns. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh, I’m Jackie. I, um … I guess she/they,” Jackie said with a bit of uneasiness.

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