Lupe Throws Like A Girl

When Lupe arrived at the university campus, she didn’t have to ask for directions to the baseball field. Cars were backed up on the narrow road. Each one held a young player, usually accompanied by her parents. Some were already unloading several pieces of matched luggage. Mothers or fathers, sometimes both, pressed cash into their daughters’ hands. Lupe even saw some girls being handed credit cards. Were they going to play ball this week, or were they here to shop at the university village stores? She clutched her brown bag and bus pass, hoping no one would notice her.

“High school graduates here. Underclass students go to the left.” An older student with a plastic name badge herded the arriving players into two separate dormitories. Lupe realized it was the first time she ever identified herself as a high school graduate. She walked to the right, as instructed, with her eyes locked on a bright, new duffel bag with the words University Sports Camp on it, hanging from the arm of the girl in front of her.

“Nice bag,” she commented out loud before she could stop herself. To her relief, the girl who turned to respond looked a lot like her.

“Did you get yours? They are giving them away at registration with a lot of other cool stuff.” The girl’s eyes slid down to Lupe’s brown paper bag. “I can show you where. My name is Amelia.’’