Andrew had never really been good at sports. He had liked baseball when he was younger, but his competitive, abusive father ruined that quick. As did the nosebleeds. When his friend decided to take up the golf team in the summer, Andrew immediately joined in, hoping to learn something and see how he could help. Turns out that golf wasn't just about hitting a ball with a metal club and wearing ridiculous uniforms. It was also about patience, witty comebacks, way too many rules, and some nasty sand traps. The best part was that Andrew could fly, soaring over the course, stretching his body out and relaxing. When he did come down to earth, he had a hell of a time remembering the rules. No talking while people hit, no walking in front of people's balls, and God forbid if you don't wear a skirt, then you're dead meat and you'll look strange. So Andrew wore a skirt too. Just to piss off everyone and make the other man feel a little better. The words were also quite confusing. A birdie, a bogey, double par?? Nothing made sense, just words thrown about like they were easy to catch, like anyone could understand. And that's how he got hit in the head with a golf ball while perched in a tree. "FORE!! FORE!!" Andrew thought someone had just finished the hole with four strokes and was happy about it, not that he was going to get hit in the head. "I thought people yelled 'Five!' if the ball was gonna hit someone! The man shook his head. "No, Andrew, it's fore, and I was the only one yelling. You were the only one who could hear my brainwaves!" At least the two could enjoy themselves, winning third place in the match and being a vital part of the team. Maybe there was hope for Andrew after all.