The Line Drive

seventeen

Mackenzie

The week brings what it usually brings, which is a fuck ton of work. My next newspaper issue is due to the printer on Sunday night, so I'm desperately trying to get everyone to submit their articles and trying to get my editors to help me with layout. Two of them flake immediately with the excuse of exams. Camilla is going to be gone over the weekend, but promises to do as much as possible during the week. 

I have an exam on Monday which I think I manage to smash. The person who sits behind me in the exam chews his gum loudly the whole time, which is honestly the worst part of the whole thing, but regardless I make it through.

I help Dane on Monday and Tuesday and it seems like we're falling into a routine of good tutoring hours. I realize that helping him is quickly becoming one of the best parts of my day. He makes me laugh, and he's a good student. And, for the most part, he works hard on his own and only asks me questions when he gets stuck, which means that tutoring him isn't really that big of an inconvenience because most of our time together is spent with me working on my own work anyway. 

It's Wednesday evening and we're sitting in the library when I see Dane get truly stressed for the first time. "Mack, I calculated out my grades today, and I'm going to have to ace everything else in this fucking class to get the grade I need." 

"I'll help you." I promise. 

"I just don't know if I can do it. I just don't think it's clicking." He puts his head in his hands. I vehemently disagree with him, because it seems like he's understanding the concepts quicker and quicker with every tutoring session. 

"You can definitely do it." I reassure him. 

"Maybe if this was my only class." He whispers. "But with all my classes, and baseball, and lifting, and my fucking roommates disturbing my god damn sleep all the time. I just feel on the brink--" His voice trails off, and I watch as his hands clench into fists. "I'm so fucking stressed." 

"What would help?" I ask, hoping that maybe Dane can give me a good idea and I won't have to come up with one myself. 

"I don't know, Mack. I really don't. If I knew, I would have already done it." He sighs and presses his forehead against the table. I can see him squeezing his eyes shut, and my heart goes out to him. His schedule is insane, I honestly don't know how he keeps up any of his energy. The man rarely gets a break. 

He doesn't talk about baseball much with me, but he'll make occasional comments about his pitching, and I get the sense that he's always trying to do better, to respond to criticism from his coaches. 

"I think I just need to relax." He lets out a forced laugh. "But I don't remember how." 

An idea occurs to me then, but I don't say anything to Dane in case it doesn't work out, so we keep working as if nothing had happened. When we say goodnight, Dane gives me his usual chipper smile, promising to meet me the next day with lunch. 

Thursday rolls around, I make it through classes, and then text Dane that he should meet me at my house instead of at the library. We don't live far off of campus, so I'm hoping that he agrees. I obtain my surprise for him, glad that all my roommates will be out of the house for the afternoon.

When he arrives and knocks, I open the door. "Hey." 

"Hey. Feeling a change of pace today?"

"Yeah." I smile. "I brought you something." 

"What is it?" 

"You'll see." 

"Weirdly secretive, Mack." Dane sits down at our table after peering in our kitchen and I go to my room and open the door. 115 pounds of Great Pyrenees mix comes rushing out of my room to see Dane.