1 Chapter 1
Reginald “Reggie” Weston kneeled and closed his eyes. He reached out his right hand and delicately brushed against the grass on the first hole tee ground in veneration.
It was a freezing June morning at the Blue Course of the Virginia Beach Resort. The air smelled of dew and grass, along with a rare mix of adrenaline and promises.
In a nutshell, it smelled of golf.
The young American opened his eyes and smiled. He was twenty-two years old and just a rookie. He had started the pro circuit, the famous PGA, a year earlier, but knew the quiver shaking his body every time he held the club in his hands was the same one felt by more seasoned players.
“A great course, isn’t it?”
The voice behind him interrupted Reggie’s private moment, forcing him to turn.
“Yeah, it’ll be a privilege to play here,” he answered, smiling at his caddie, Carlos Marquez.
Carlos was a family friend and had taken Reggie under his wing since the very first time he picked up a golf club. Over the years the two had developed a relationship more like uncle and nephew than player and caddie. It was Carlos Marquez—thirty-seven years old, with a strong body and an olive-colored complexion—who took care of Reggie when he was down, but Carlos was also the one who gave him a slap on the wrist when he messed up.
“If we don’t make the cut in the second round, we’ll go have fun on the beach before going back home,” Carlos declared happily, snapping his fingers.
“We’ll make the cut. And we’ll also have good placing on Sunday,” Reggie grumbled, wrinkling.
“That’s my young man,” Carlos shouted with his foghorn voice, playfully nudging Reggie with his shoulder. “Come on, I reserved the putting green from ten to eleven,” he added.
Reggie nodded before taking a last look of love and respect at the just-renovated course. Yes, it would be an unforgettable week.
* * * *
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 fairwayshad 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 sexual 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.
