Seven Days

Chapter 1: Wednesday-2

The golf tournament at the Virginia Beach Resort was a new beginning for the venue. In the past, it had been the scene of a PGA tournament, but then the course had been closed and, for many years, it remained that way, waiting to be brought back to its old splendor. Now the moment had finally arrived. The fairways had been extended and the greens reorganized in the turtle shell shape typical of American courses. For the occasion, not only would some of the best known American pros participate, but also some of the famous names from the European tour.

Reggie was excited about the prospect of playing against some of his idols. He obtained his pass into the PGA tour at the end of last year, after finishing the qualifying school. Each time he participated in a tournament, he felt like a child in a candy store.

He thought about this while he practiced his approaches on the putting green. There was a magical atmosphere at the Virginia Beach Resort and, even if he hadn’t yet won a single title, Reggie couldn’t wait to make his first swing in the tournament.

His cell phone vibrated in the back pocket of his light trousers.

Reggie snorted and took it out. It was his mom, Emily, anxious as always.

Is everything okay? Did you arrive? Do you like the place?

Any more questions, Mom? The young man sniggered, his fingers flying fast on the keyboard.

Yes to everything, we’ll talk tomorrow after the first round.

He went to put the cell phone back but changed his mind. He searched the apps and opened Twitter. It was common for the pro golfers to have an account to instantly update fans with any news, the tournament’s evolution, etcetera.

Reggie wasn’t fond of social networking, but he had adapted to the trend. He had created an account, even if he didn’t have a great number of followers. He wasn’t famous yet, but he liked to send a few tweets to his fans from time to time: they were all very kind and caring, wishing him good luck before each tournament.

They were mostly girls.

But girls weren’t exactly his area of expertise. Actually, they weren’t at all.

He liked guys, and declared it proudly by always wearing a rainbow pin. That demonstration of his homosexuality sometimes brought him caring pats on the back and other times curses that were hard to stomach. This especially happened back in the academic life he had just finished, though not so much on golf courses.

Reggie had figured out he was gay while still in high school. In his first year, he tried to be part of the football team before deciding it was not his ideal sport. He couldn’t find many positive aspects in it, apart from taking showers with others after the training. He was trying to feel part of something, to push away his eternal feeling of being different, out of place.

It wasn’t only a s****l difference, but universal. He was interested in things other guys his age didn’t like: reading a book on a Friday night instead of going out to party, drinking orange juice instead of beer, tree houses instead of Mustangs, golf instead of baseball or football…

One day while he was showering with his teammates after a coaching session, his gaze had drifted to Aaron, the team quarterback, who was rubbing the shower gel on his naked body next to Reggie. He stood there, looking at Aaron, enjoying it and feeling surprised by what he saw, until Aaron turned off the tap and walked away.

Reggie had felt confused. Confused, yet fascinated at the same time. It didn’t take long for him to understand that the cheerleaders were less interesting than peeking at his teammates after every practice and game.

Right now he didn’t have a boyfriend. In high school he had had two relationships, but they both ended quickly, without too much pain. Actually, he didn’t have many friends, either. Most of his former schoolmates didn’t understand the passion for golf that he sacrificed everything else for. A passion born when, as a child, he went with his parents, who were not wealthy at all, to play some balls at a Chicago country club one weekend.

While touring he had found a couple of friends. Or maybe it would be more correct to say acquaintances: an Asian man, who wasn’t the most liked because during the previous season he’d won the Rookie of the Year award and didn’t pass up any chance to remind everybody, and another American guy from Seattle named Moses. Reggie really liked Moses, he was good company, but unfortunately, they didn’t often participate in the same tournaments.

In the end, his best friend was his caddie. As to love…well, he still had to find the one.

“Hey, Reggie. Time’s up.”

Carlo’s voice stirred him from his thoughts. He quickly checked his wristwatch: it really was time to stop practice. Observing the scratched watch face and the worn-out band, he wondered if he would ever become famous enough to be the spokesman of some expensive timepiece. He felt good imagining his image next to a Rolex or an Audemars Piguet.

“What do you think about a walk on the Boardwalk? We could get something to drink.”

Reggie nodded and took off his cap, showing his brown mop, lightly paler at the ends, now sweaty. In their terms, “something” meant a cold beer for Carlos and an orange juice for him.

“You know, your caddie-manager-doctor-friend-uncle-etcetera suggests you forget a little about the tournament and go have fun,” Carlos continued, putting an arm on Reggie’s shoulders.

“Okay, but let’s do something fast; I need to concentrate,” Reggie grumbled, wiggling out of the embrace to put away his putter.

Carlos crossed his arms on his chest and gave Reggie a surly look. “You really need to find a boyfriend and f**k more.”

Reggie smiled wistfully. “I wish I could, Carl. If only…”