The Intern: Nearly Perfect
Part 4 of the Intern and Javier has the night off and a date.
Nearly Perfect is Part 4 of the five-part serial The Intern, which sets up the April 2 release of the novel Lose Yourself.
By Vince Wetzel and OT Press
Everything needed to be perfect.
Six weeks ago, he’d met Heidi in his bed hungover on his 21st birthday. They didn’t do anything much, just some drunken kissing before he passed out, but the introduction led to them texting back and forth. This led to a promise for her to travel from her college apartment in Davis to Hayward, where he lived with his roommate Marcos.
And now, they were meeting for the first time since his birthday. Originally, he thought he’d take her to the A’s game. It was a no-brainer. She was a fan and he got free tickets and could snag some free food. But it was a rare day off from his internship with the team and the thought of running into his co-workers on the job felt a bit awkward. Plus, Heidi’s cousin Robbie, who lived down the hall from Javier, would be at the game.
“Why are you doing this for some girl you met when you were drunk, exchanged numbers when you were hungover, and only have talked to her over your phone?,” his roommate Marcos asked. “You don’t know this girl?”
“How is this any different than using Tinder or whatever dating apps you’re using these days?”
“Exactly. I’m not going to put myself out there and do all of this for a first date with some girl I met online. I’m taking her out. And isn’t it a little weird that she’s agreeing to hang out with you at your apartment for your first date?”
“Considering how we met, she’s already been here, slept in my bed, seen me at my worst and she still wants to hang out with me. I think that’s pretty good.”
“Whatever dude,” Marcos said. “Is she staying overnight?”
“I don’t think so,” Javier said. “Her plan is to stay with Robbie.”
“And you’re hoping for a change of plans,” Marcos grinned. Javier shook his head in protest. That was not his intent. But Marcos shook him off, with a nonchalant flick of the hand. “Anyway, I’ll be at Sylvie’s apartment if you need anything.”
Sylvie was Marcos’s friend with benefits and was his go-to when Javier needed some space in the apartment. When Marcos left, Javier put on the start of the A’s game while he finished up the enmoladas. Local broadcasters Chris Satterfield and Josh Huggins were on the call. Each game, Javier stopped by their booth and provided them with stats and other game information at the stadium. After hearing their voices pumped into every corner of the Coliseum, Javier felt the situation surreal to watch them on his regular television in his apartment just a short BART ride away. He should be there, but he was not. He had the day off. He should enjoy it away from the ballpark.
“Welcome to Oakland for tonight’s game between the Oakland A’s and the Kansas City Royals,” Huggins said. “Brett Austen continues his season for the ages. As of today, August 15, his .410 average is the best mark this late in the season since Ty Cobb and with JT Berman back in the lineup, he will get some additional support to help this underperforming Oakland squad.”
“It’s remarkable that Austen is getting any pitches to hit at all,” said Satterfield. “And for him to be connecting at the clip he’s doing I think eclipses what Cobb, Hornsby and Williams ever thought of doing. We are watching history folks.”
“Pitching tonight for Oakland will be Victor Rasmussen, who’s coming in with a 4.16 ERA and a 7-7 record,” Huggins said. He and Satterfield broke down Rasmussen’s mediocre season and hoped he could get through five innings of work and hoped the bullpen could carry them to a victory.
Javier heard a knock at the door, and he felt unable to draw in a full breath. He shook off his nerves. After all, he had been on plenty of dates, including dinners in his apartment. But through their texts, online chats, he felt a bit closer to her than random women he met at Cal State East Bay, dating apps or even in his apartment complex.
He drew a breath before opening the door. Heidi was stunning. Wearing a red summer dress with white flowers and a sweater, she looked the part of the perfect girl next door. Her straight black hair shined and was perfect, much different than the unkempt bedhead she had when he first met her.
“Hi,” Heidi said. “I’m here, finally.”
“Hi,” Javier, giving her an innocent hug, before welcoming her inside his apartment. “Did you have traffic?”
“Any driving sucks. It took me about an hour and a half,” she said. “Hey, I still can’t believe you got the day off and we’re not even going to the game.”
“I mean we can if you want. I just spend so much time at the ballpark, I didn’t want you to think that was all I was about.”
“I wouldn’t blame you. That’s where Robbie is right now.” she said. “But this will be nice. And it sounds like you have the game on anyway.”
“Yeah, just started. But you can’t get enmoladas at the stadium. So, that’s one good thing about having dinner here, rather than a couple of hot dogs and nachos.”
“Good point.”
Javier mixed a batch of margaritas. Understanding the way in which they met, he didn’t pour them too strong. After all, his plan was to sip them during final preparations and during dinner while watching the game on TV.
Dinner was ready in the second inning, and they were only on their second margarita. He set them out to cool for a few minutes, before turning back to Heidi and the game.
“Rasmussen is pitching pretty well,” Heidi said. “All we need is an Austen RBI and he may even get a win.”
“We got a lot of game left,” Javier said.
A wave of sadness swept across Heidi’s face and soon her hands were spread across her face. She collapsed onto the couch and wept. Javier didn’t know what happened. Dinner was still five minutes away from being served. He approached a spot on the couch with care. When he sat down, he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Did I say something?”
“It’s just that,” Heidi struggled to get the words out. “That’s what my poppa says during games when I try to predict an outcome. He’s always saying ‘we gotta lotta game left.’” Her voice turned low and gruff trying to channel her grandfather.
Javier was reminded that Heidi’s bubbly personality covered up the double whammy of pain she was feeling. Around five months ago, her parents shared with her that they were getting divorced. A week later, her grandfather announced he had Stage 4 lung cancer with a poor prognosis of survival.
He sat with her and listened to stories about her grandpa for two innings while the enmoladas cooled to lukewarm temperature. He didn’t want to interrupt her as she shared stories about her grandfather. And he figured this was the purpose of microwaves.
Her thirst for another margarita broke the spell and after reheating their dinner, they pulled up chairs to the card table that gave them equal view of the television.
“How are you doing with your mom and dad and the divorce?”
“Just trying to stay above the fray and taking any sides,” she said. “I mean it was my dad’s fault. He shouldn’t have cheated on my mom, but it does me no good to get involved in the process, you know?”
Javier nodded. His own parents were still married, but he knew they went through some tough times.
“Just a lot, you know?” she poked at the enmoladas. “Oh my god, these are so good. Nobody’s ever cooked me real Mexican food like this before.”
“Really? Your name is Heidi Hernandez.”
“My dad is, like, Mexican in name only,” she laughed. “And I’m a quarter Japanese via Hawaii. Ask me to make Moco Loco or Portuguese Sausage with rice and I’m your girl.”
“Deal,” Javier said, adding with a wink, “for next time.”
As they talked, they finished their dinner and another margarita, while passively watching the game. It was the middle of the sixth inning when Heidi shared a glance with Javier. The scoreline flashed as the broadcast went to commercial.
“Did you see that?” she asked, looking for confirmation of what she just saw.
Javier nodded. They couldn’t say the words or else the jinx was on. A quick look to the scoreline coming back out of the break confirmed their suspicions. Huggins and Satterfield shared their evasive narrative and talked around the story.
“After six innings pitched, no Royals have reached base against Rasmussen,” Huggins said. “That’s right, no runs, no hits, no errors, no walks or hit-by-pitch. It’s been eighteen up and eighteen down for the five-year lefthanded veteran.”
“Should we go?” Heidi asked, sharing a raised eyebrow.
“I’d be iffy to drive right now,” Javier said. Indeed, he just finished his fourth margarita, and he poured the last one a little stiffer. “And an Uber is at least $40.”
“Chances are he’d give it up the moment we got there, right?”
Javier nodded. He tried to cut through the margarita fog to think through the logistics. He checked Uber. It would be around $40 and 40 minutes before they’d be in the ballpark. All he needed was his season pass. For Heidi, all he needed to do was call Justine, one of his fellow interns, and get a ticket for Heidi.
“If we went, we should call the Uber soon,” Javier said. “What do you think?”
“I’m having a great time here,” she said. “But I’ve never seen a perf… um… a game like this.”
“Me neither.”
“Let’s do it,” Heidi said. “Maybe I’ll tell my grandpa something.”
Javier ordered an Uber. It was going to be $50 and was going to take 20 minutes to get to his apartment. He saw that it was another 20 minutes to the ballpark. Plus getting in. They’d probably get in by the eighth inning. He texted Justine and she agreed to leave a couple of tickets.
“All right, we’re going,” Javier said.
“Oh my god,” Heidi said. “I’m going to text my grandpa. I’m sure he’s texting with Robbie right now.”
Heidi typed on her phone and Javier thought she was so attractive in that moment. As she continued to type, he went to her. When she looked up, he looked at her with desire and passion. She bit her lip.
He kissed her. For a moment, he wondered if he had overstepped, but she returned it with passion and soon their hands were wandering over each other’s bodies. Javier wasn’t sure if it was the margaritas, the perfect game or everything else, but the world seemed to be converging in this moment and he was all about it.
But they had to stop. The Uber would be outside in just a few minutes. He began to pull away, their breaths heavy and labored.
“We gotta go,” Javier said.
Before Heidi could speak, Satterfield’s voice cut back through their fantasies and desires.
“And Kurt Delano with the single up the middle,” Satterfield said. “That’s the first hit and man on base for the Royals. And Rasmussen gets a standing ovation from the crowd.”
“Cancel that Uber,” Heidi said.
Lose Yourself: Out April 2
It’s The Final Game of the Season…
All Star Brett Austen has a chance to secure the first .400 batting average for a season in more than 80 years. But increasing pressure and his own hubris threaten the apex of his career.
Meanwhile…
A sideline reporter wrestles with a choice between career and her mom in crisis.
A retiring usher takes in his final game before moving in with his son’s family.
A lanky 15-year-old can’t understand his future stepdad while pining for a girl from school.
A lemonade vendor agonizes over a big score to settle gambling debts and fulfill his daughter’s dreams.
An adult daughter navigates uncomfortable family dynamics at home while her father lies in hospice.
Will their choices meet the moment?
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