In an unexpected way, dad had been right. It wasn't over for me.

About a week after Ellen's news article had come out, our story had gone viral on Twitter. Mr. Jones had refused to give comments to media on the topic, only saying that the matter was up for discussion at the next board and PTA meeting, and that an official comment would be provided thereafter. It was the craziest, most ridiculous thing ever. It also started getting me buzz with colleges.

I'd been reached out to by a couple of the ones I applied for, but also others that I hadn't considered. One of them, in Alabama, I'd day dreamed about like a regular person day dreamt about one day driving a Ferrari, except this Ferrari wanted to interview me.

And so I found myself, driving all alone up from Orlando to the college campus. I'd been given permission by our school to miss class for a day for this. If I did make it to this college, I was sure the Principal would turn me into his favorite senior student. The little weasel.

I sang Stronger by Britney Spears in the car for most of the way. I didn't want to think about what they may ask, what I might say, or what I shouldn't do. I just wanted to feel powerful, in control and female. Because that was who I wanted to be.

It took about seven and a half hours from Orlando to the campus. My interview time was 6pm, and even though I took several breaks in between, I made it with time to spare. I found a parking spot close to what I thought was the main building, but turned out to just be the library. I decided to leg it to the right location. It was wonderful out there, the trees painted in all shades of autumn, and I wondered if the students thought I was one of them or could smell the high school stench coming off of me. Who knew, maybe next year I'd walk among their ranks. See the same trees.

The main building had been farther than I'd expected and when I got there I was a bit winded and a lot sweaty. A nice lady had me sit and wait. And that was when I started to feel nervous.

I grabbed my phone and saw a bunch of texts from mom, Santi and my friends. I even saw one from dad.

His read, You can do this, honey bunny.

I was resigned at that point that he'd never drop the nickname. He might become a grandfather one day and he'd still probably call me that.

I just replied, Thank you, dad.

"Miss O'Hare?"

I looked up. An elderly man stood in front of me, dressed like a dandy.

"Yes." I stood up and shook his hand.

"My name is Roger Pearson, I'm the head of the sports management department. Would you please follow me?"

I did, swallowing a lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. He guided me into a room with massive windows overseeing the south end of the campus. I could see students like dots strewn across the grass, just hanging out with their friends after class. It looked idilic.

And then I saw a panel of three men sitting in front of an empty chair. Mr. Pearson joined them and I got the cue to sit in front of all of them. I felt like they were trying to gang up against me.

I put my bag on the floor and faced them. "Alright, let's begin."

They exchanged glances, probably not having expected that. I smiled. Just because they were going to try to intimidate me didn't mean I'd let them. The fact was that I hadn't applied here; they'd called me in because clearly they were interested. So I had nothing to lose.

The one in the center cleared his throat and introduced himself as James Morgan. I repeated his name in my head to try to remember it. "Miss O'Hare, I'll be very forthright with you. We've asked you to join us today because we've thought you're a potential candidate for our program."

I nodded. "Thank you for the invitation, I'm very flattered."

I could tell this answer pleased them.

"But of course," he continued. "We wanted to assess in person if you may be a good fit."

Fair.

The one next to him spoke then. "I'm Harry McPherson, pleased to meet you." There was something kindly about this one, and I immediately took a liking to him. "Have you heard anything about our program before?"

Um, duh. I recited off some of the requirements to join and prospects for alumni. I also mentioned a few alumni who'd gone on to become managers of major sports teams, or renowned personal trainers for professional athletes. I'd done my research.

"And do you think you could compete with them?" he asked.

"On drive, ambition, determination?" I shrugged. "Sure. But my goal is not to just compete. My goal is to pave a path to uncharted territory. To be the first woman manning a MLB team, if you pardon my pun."

The one on the left corner whistled and slapped his knee. I never knew his name. "I like you, girl. But I also like a handful of other applicants. What makes you stand out that they don't have?"

I thought about it. I could say I was more hard working than any of them. Or that I had a good eye for real talent and a good brain for how to develop it. Or a somewhat photographic memory that allowed me to recite a player's stats like I was reciting my prayers. But ultimately, there was one reason.

"I have ovaries." The five older, white men recoiled. It was probably the wrong thing to say, but hey, the facts were there. "I've been told that because of this, there are a lot of things I can't do with my life. But the thing I'd say makes me stand out from my competitors, is that I don't believe this reason or any other should stop me from working for what I want. I have a dream," I said, offering my palms up to them as if it were floating there, in between us. "I have the skills and the will power to chase it. I just need to find the right people to help me reach it and write history with me."

I dropped my hands and laced my fingers in the most lady like fashion I could muster. "The question really is, are you the right people to help me?"

Oh boy, I couldn't believe I'd just said all that.

This was supposed to be an interrogation of me, my interests, what I was most excited about my life on campus, how I thought this school could help me grow and maybe where I saw myself in five years or ten. The picture I was painting them was way beyond that, and if they were myopic they'd only see a little girl, pretending to be this big, badass adult who was playing with them.

Mr. Pearson stood up then and offered me his hand. "Thank you for joining us today. We will contact you."

I managed to thank each one of them and shake their hands before I was led out of the room. A massive set of mahogany doors closed behind me. The nice lady smiled and wished me a good night.

I called Santi as soon as I got on my car.

"I don't know what the fuck just happened."

"What do you mean?" he asked. I could hear the baseball practice going on in the background, they were preparing for the first game for state. He shushed someone. "Peyton?"

I took a breath and told him what had just happened. The whole interview had lasted maybe 10min. I was going to spend the night at a hotel nearby and drive for almost eight hours tomorrow, just for 10 minutes of their time.

"I was too aggressive," I said after I'd narrated the whole story. I was whining at that point. "They just sat there and looked at me like I was crazy."

"They'd be the crazy ones to pass you up." He sighed. "Do you think they personally met with you just to waste your time? I'm sure they were mesmerized by you."

"How would you know? You weren't there and saw their faces get red."

"No, but I do know you have that effect on people." I'd have smacked him if he were in front of me. "I gotta go now, your dad's shooting daggers at me with his eyes."

"Call me when you're home," I said.

We hung up and I drove to the hotel. Once at the hotel I showered and wrapped myself in the bathrobe to watch HGTV while I waited for a pizza. As I watched homes getting flipped I wondered what I could have said differently to cause a better impression. But the problem was that I'd been true to myself and I'd spoken to them about my aspirations with an honesty I didn't think I'd shared with anybody.

Santi called me on FaceTime as I was stuffing my face with a big slice. I answered the call and let him see what I was up to. His eyebrows went up.

"Is that all you're going to eat when you live by yourself in a college campus?"

I shrugged. "That and ice cream."

He looked so cute with his hair also wet from a shower. It was a shame I couldn't smell him through the phone.

"You're gonna be fine," he said with a smile. "Even if it's not there. The right place for you will find you, thanks to your newfound fame and your friends that worked so hard for you."

I rolled my eyes and threw him an air kiss. "Thank you, thank you." I set the slice down and wiped my hand with a napkin. "Santi?"

"Hm?"

I looked up back at the screen, at him. "What if that place just so happens to be eight hours away from you?"

He tilted his head, his eyes intense and focused on the camera. "We'll have long weekend commutes."

"Yeah, you say that now but long distance relationships are hard."

He shrugged. The camera unfocused thanks to the motion and I realized he was shirtless. Jesus, he was gonna be the death of me if he always looked so delicious.

"Why? Will you be jealous if I talk with other girls?"

"Very," I said without hesitation. "Will you be jealous if I talk with other guys?"

"Like a caveman," he said. "You're right, it's gonna suck. But we'll manage. We have just less than a year to figure out how."

I picked up the slice again and took a bite, nodding at him. "That's true, I shouldn't be worrying about that. Now," I said, wiping my face as I took the last bite. "Show me what you're wearing."

Santiago laughed. "God, you're a pervert."

I rolled my eyes. "And you're not? You're not gonna tell me you haven't been wondering what I'm wearing under my bathrobe."

He covered the bottom of his face and his eyes twinkled. When he spoke his voice came out muffled, "I was trying not to be a creep and point that out, yes."

I lifted my chin. "Well, wanna see?"

He almost laughed and caught himself when he realized I was serious. "Really?"

I licked my lips, trying to be seductive. "Just a peep, then."

The poor boy's eyes bulged as I focused the camera down and slowly undid my robe. I opened it and bam! Bugs Bunny t-shirt.

"Peyton!"

I rolled over on the bed laughing as he cursed me out, and in that instant I was happy, regardless of what would happen.

lmao, i fed that line to some people at work once. there was a tough situation going on and i told them, "i have more than balls, i have ovaries!" and you should've seen the looks on their faces. i still treasure the moment.

but anyway, we're almost to the end, you guys 😟