“I guess what I’m saying is, you have the underlying talent to be a good, and maybe even a great baseball player; but as of now, you’re still raw. My concern is with a change of position, you might have a hard time making the Under-18 team, just because you haven’t spent enough time in the field. What makes me want to give you the shot is your hitting.
“You have the frame to add more muscle, which you’ll need if you want to survive the rigors of a major league season. What makes you one of the better hitters I’ve seen at your age is your hand and wrist strength. You’re able to fight off pitches others can’t. You also have excellent eye-hand coordination. I want you to put in the work this off-season to get better. If you were under contract, I’d send you to winter ball,” he said.
“Baseball is a possibility, then,” I said.
“Let’s put it this way: you look like a baseball player; you have all the measurables we’re looking for; and you’re big, strong, and can run like the wind. Add your ability to hit the ball, and you’ll get a shot. Your being a top-rated high school quarterback tells me that you have the work ethic that’s needed. The only thing that’s missing is time playing the game.”
I was told almost the same thing about football my freshman year.
We spent the rest of our time talking about what he wanted me to do to improve my hitting. Just like throwing a football, you had to create the muscle memory, and the only way to do that was to hit, a lot. He promised to keep in touch, and I thanked him.
◊◊◊
Mom showed up with Dad just before my day ended at the set. They both were sunburned from being out and about their first couple of days here. I knew they’d had a good time because Dad sent me photos all day. They’d all gotten their picture taken with Mickey and Minnie as well as Goofy. The girls also had theirs taken with one of the Disney Princesses.
“You ready?” I asked.
Mom was coming with me to my driving class. They wanted to talk to her about personal safety as a realtor.
“Whenever you are,” Mom said.
I packed up a few things I might need next week. I wouldn’t be back until my movie opened next Friday. Caryn had received the final schedule of interviews and appearances earlier today. I would be in New York Monday and make various stops on the way back to LA on Wednesday. The premiere was Thursday night, and then we would hit different places in LA through the weekend. I was a little jealous that Craig Wild would be on Weekend Live the weekend of the opening.
We left the set and drove to the High Performance Driving School. I dropped Mom and Dad off in one of the classrooms where they’d receive safety instruction. Devin and I were sent straight to driving. Devin hadn’t been nearly as aggressive as I was, so they worked with him on the same things they did the first day.
They also taught stunt driving, so they showed me some tricks that were a lot of fun. Of course, if I ever did any of them on a real street, I would at the very least get a ticket. I thought the power-slide into a parking spot might come in handy. I figured I was doing well when Bill grabbed the dash and white-knuckled it on a few of my driving feats. The fun part was learning how to drive the car out of control, and yet still control it, if that makes any sense. The Charger Hellcat was just the car for that type of driving.
Our final task of the day was to run it as fast as it would go on a half-mile course. I was surprised when Bill got out of the car, and my mom got in with me.
“You sure you want to do this?” I asked.
“I trust you. Now show me what this car can do,” Mom ordered.
I was supposed to race Devin, but he decided against it. I smiled when I saw Bill in the car next to me. Dad was in his car.
As we lined up, I took a moment to appreciate what a beast the Charger Hellcat was. You could feel the deep rumble of its massive engine as we idled up to the starting line. I smoked the tires to heat them up for a better grip on the start; Bill did the same. I looked over to Mom, and she gave me a thumbs-up.
On the start, Bill got a slight jump on me and was three-quarters of a car length in front of me. The thrust of the Hellcat’s engine pressed us back into our seats as we rocketed down the track. The unmistakable whine of the supercharger filled the interior of the car. At the quarter-mile mark, I glanced down, and I was doing 123 mph. If the race had ended there, Bill would have gotten me by a half car-length.
Unlike other cars, the Charger Hellcat had plenty more left. I watched the speedometer go higher. Mom was loving it, yelling excitedly.
“Get him, David!”
As we raced down the last quarter mile, I began to overtake Bill and my dad. When I caught him, my mom was yelling and pumping her fist. At the half-mile mark, I was clocked at 187 mph. The full track was a mile, so I continued to push it until I reached 195 mph before I shut it down. I’d read the specs, and they claimed the production model topped out at over 200 mph. Something I would do when I got home was to beef up the brakes. The Charger was a heavy car, and when you had it moving that fast, it took a lot of real estate to slow it down.
I was all smiles when we made it back to the building. I knew I would take more classes. Even with only three days under my belt, I felt much more comfortable behind the wheel. I would have to thank the girls for the best Christmas present ever. Well, the jet water board was pretty awesome, so it might be a tie.
◊◊◊
Devin had to hurry off because he had a rehearsal for his ceremony tomorrow. Mom and Dad planned to go on a date. I didn’t have to meet Sandy until after the rehearsal. They were having the wedding at Saddle Rock Ranch. Since we had some time, Fritz and I went surfing.
The rehearsal dinner was held at the hotel Devin and Cora’s wedding party was staying at, the Huntley Hotel on Santa Monica Beach. They had a restaurant on the eighteenth floor from which you could see the ocean and the lights of the city.
Everyone was in a good mood, and I enjoyed getting to know Devin’s friends. I knew Lou because he was the one who came up with Devin’s toys. Mark and Cliff were high school friends who loved the outdoors as much as Devin did. Cliff was Devin’s best man and gave a brief toast before dinner to the happy couple. Cliff’s best joke was: “If Cora were a Barbie, she would be Divorced Barbie. This doll comes with Ken’s house, Ken’s car, and Ken’s boat.”
Devin was a good sport and flipped his friend off.
“What do you girls have planned for tonight?” I asked Sandy.
“What would you guess?”
She nodded towards Cora’s bridesmaids. Pam had been right when she’d told me that her sister’s friends were on the slutty side. Two of them had obviously been enhanced. I guess if I had gone to the trouble to get giant boobies, I’d want to show them to the world, too. The male waitstaff seemed to think they needed their water filled an awful lot. Sandy must have had a talk with the female staff because they all eyed me, but none of them flirted with me. Devin’s friends were fair game, though, and seemed to enjoy it.
“I’m a bit nervous about what they might plan. Seems a little unfair that Devin couldn’t go to a strip club,” I said.
“He told me what you planned for them. I think that might be worse. He made me promise not to tell Cora.”
“We’re just going to a party,” I said.
“Did you even bother to Google 69 Naturals?” she asked.
I suddenly was a little nervous. Sandy pulled out her phone and brought it up. Yep, it was a porn site. Zak was dead.
“Yeah, I vote we don’t tell Cora,” I said.