Free Playing Tyler by T L Costa

focusing. But sadly, they don’t list “hot” and “may incite normally reasonable girls to think way too much about certain boys who suffer from it” as common qualifiers.
    Professor Jimenez clears his throat and reads the poem out loud for the third time.
    After glancing up to make sure that he’s not looking my way, I lean forward and send Julie a quick email.
    Hey Julie, it’s me. What’s going on? How’s class? So far I’m not loving Spanish Literature. Are you taking Spanish at all? Love you, –Ani
    This is the third email I’ve sent her in as many days. She’s my sister and my best friend, and yet she never writes back. Never texts, even. She calls sometimes, though. Mostly when she’s stuck on her Geometry or Chem homework, but still. That counts, right?
    OK, Ani, time to get serious. You need a B average over all of your classes or that scholarship will disappear, so you better get into Gongora.
    Typing notes on my laptop, analyzing love poetry somehow does very little to keep my mind from drifting to Tyler. What’s his problem? I mean, he’s really cute; I have a hard time believing that he wouldn’t be able to get any girl at his school if he put his mind to it. Probably does have another girl at school, actually. Maybe he’s just a player and wants to get a Yalie, or a gamer girl or whatever under his belt. Dammit.
    I open a window with Tyler’s latest message. Doesn’t seem like much of a player, though, does he?
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    â€œDad?” It’s hard to hear with the mad rush of people around me at the change of classes. “Can you hear me?”
    â€œYeah, honey. What’s up? How’s the Ivy League treating my baby girl?” His voice is distant. I can’t tell if it’s the connection or not. Sounds so different than the man that would take me to the park to feed the ducks.
    â€œIt’s OK. Classes are good, I guess,” I say. My eyes stray to all the smiling faces around me. It’s hard to know what to talk about now that he’s in jail. “How are things for you?”
    â€œThe counselor says things are coming along. There’s a whole group of us vets in here, so I’m not alone.”
    â€œMom come visit yet?” I have to know. Mom used to write him every day while he was deployed, saying that he had to know that we were still here and that we loved him. She was so superstitious, said that if he didn’t feel like he had something to come home to that he’d get killed. I would try and tell her that it’s the luck of the draw, but she’d never listen. Then when he came home, when he wasn’t right, she basically tossed him out. They’re still married, though, and I know she loves him. Well, I hope she still loves him.
    â€œOh, honey, you know your mother.”
    So that would be a no, then. “Do they think that you’ll be paroled anytime soon?” My voice wobbles a little. “I mean, they have to know that this isn’t fair.”
    â€œDon’t you worry about me, baby. I’m going to be just fine. Tell me all about school.”
    â€œI don’t know if I like it all that much, honestly.”
    â€œMaking any new friends?”
    I think of Tyler. Damn. “No, not all that many.”
    â€œGive it time, baby, it’s still early. You’ve got four years ahead of you and you’ve only been there a month. Friendships don’t happen overnight, right?”
    â€œJulie had tons of friends in her first month at UCLA.”
    â€œNow, honey. Julie is… well, Julie. You choose your friends more carefully, so in the end you may not have as many, but they’ll be good ones. Julie loses as many friends as she makes, you know that.”
    I open my email, staring at Tyler’s latest message. “Dad, do you think that I should be OK with my boss telling me who I can and can’t talk to?”

 
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