Warland, Next Chapter

Chapter 1: New Horizons

The summer after graduation passed in a blur of baseball games, pizza nights, and lazy afternoons at the lake. James Warland had received a scholarship to Eastern State University, surprising no one in Maplewood. What did surprise everyone was that Tyler had also been accepted to the same college, having transformed his academic performance after that fateful tutoring session.

“Can’t believe we leave tomorrow,” Tyler said, tossing a baseball into the air as he lay on James’s bedroom floor. The walls were adorned with trophies and medals—testaments to James’s athletic prowess throughout high school.

“I can’t believe you’re willingly going somewhere with more studying,” James replied, sorting through his closet for the essentials he’d need in his dorm room.

“Hey, I’m a changed man,” Tyler protested. “Besides, someone has to make sure you don’t fart in front of the entire university library.”

James threw a rolled-up sock at Tyler’s head. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Not in this lifetime,” Tyler grinned, dodging the projectile with practiced ease.

Their parents had arranged for them to drive to Eastern State together, James’s pickup truck loaded with their combined possessions. It seemed fitting—they’d started their real friendship during that awkward tutoring session, continued through the drama of the failed test and locker room confrontation, and now they were beginning the next chapter of their lives side by side.

“You nervous?” Tyler asked, his tone more serious now.

James paused his packing. Was he? At Maplewood, he’d been the star, the guy everyone knew would go places. At Eastern State, he’d be a freshman again, starting from the bottom.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “Coach Peterson says the college game is different. Faster. More strategic.”

“You’ll adapt,” Tyler said with confidence. “You always do.”

“What about you? Nervous about the classes?”

Tyler sat up, resting his back against James’s bed. “Nah. I figured out how to actually study last year, remember? I’m more worried about making friends. You’ll have the baseball team. I’ll just have… me.”

“And me,” James corrected him. “Just because I’ll be playing ball doesn’t mean I’m ditching you.”

Tyler smiled, but James could see the uncertainty in his eyes. They were stepping into the unknown, and all the reassurances in the world couldn’t change that.

Chapter 2: The Roommate Situation

Eastern State University was bigger than they’d imagined—a sprawling campus with historic brick buildings and modern facilities nestled among ancient oak trees. After checking in at the housing office, they discovered they’d been assigned to different dorms.

“Fisher Hall for me,” James read from his paperwork.

“Thompson Hall,” Tyler said, looking at his own assignment. “Isn’t that on the opposite side of campus?”

James felt a twinge of disappointment. He’d hoped they’d room together, or at least be in the same building.

“We can still meet up between classes,” he offered. “And for meals and stuff.”

“Yeah, of course,” Tyler agreed, though he looked as disappointed as James felt.

They parted ways, promising to text once they were settled. James made his way to Fisher Hall, a five-story brick building that housed mostly athletes. His room was on the third floor—308. When he pushed open the door, he found a tall, muscular guy already unpacking.

“Hey,” the guy greeted him. “James, right? I’m Lucas Bennett. Guess we’re roommates.”

Lucas had an easy smile and a firm handshake. His side of the room was already filling up with sports posters and baseball gear.

“You play?” James asked, nodding toward a glove on Lucas’s bed.

“Pitcher,” Lucas confirmed. “You’re shortstop, right? Coach Marshall mentioned you during recruitment.”

James felt a small swell of pride. Coach Marshall had been tracking him since junior year, attending several games at Maplewood. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Cool. The team’s having an informal meetup at the rec center tonight. Nothing official, just a chance to hang out before training starts. You in?”

“Definitely,” James said, grateful for the immediate inclusion.

As he unpacked, he texted Tyler: How’s your roommate?

The reply came a few minutes later: His name is Eric. He collects insects and has brought his entire collection. HELP.

James chuckled, drawing a curious look from Lucas.

“My buddy from home,” James explained. “He got stuck with an entomologist.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow. “A what now?”

“Bug guy. Apparently, the bugs came with him.”

Lucas laughed. “Rough draw. At least if he gets hungry, he’s got snacks.”

James grimaced. “That’s disgusting.”

“College, man. It’s a whole new world.”

As the afternoon wore on, James finished unpacking and arranged to meet Tyler for dinner at the main dining hall. When he arrived, he spotted Tyler already at a table, sitting across from a thin, nervous-looking guy with thick glasses.

“James!” Tyler waved him over. “This is Eric. Eric, this is my best friend James.”

“The baseball player,” Eric nodded. “Tyler’s mentioned you approximately seventeen times since we met.”

“All good things, I hope,” James said, setting his tray down beside Tyler.

“Mostly about how you rescued him from academic doom and let one rip in the library,” Eric said matter-of-factly.

James shot Tyler a look. “Seriously? That’s what you lead with?”

Tyler raised his hands defensively. “It came up organically!”

“How does that come up organically within three hours of meeting someone?”

“We were discussing embarrassing moments as an icebreaker,” Eric explained. “Tyler’s contribution was quite memorable.”

James sighed. “Great. So not only do I have to live down that moment at home, but now it’s following me to college.”

“If it makes you feel better, I once gave a presentation on dung beetles and had an actual dung beetle escape from my display case. It scurried across the desk of the most popular girl in class,” Eric offered.

Despite his irritation, James found himself laughing. “That does make me feel better, actually.”

“Told you he was cool,” Tyler said to Eric, who actually smiled for the first time since James had sat down.

After dinner, James headed to the rec center for the baseball meetup while Tyler and Eric returned to their dorm for a “strategic planning session” about how to organize their shared space around Eric’s insect habitats.

The rec center was buzzing with activity when James arrived. Lucas waved him over to a group of guys lounging on couches in a corner of the common area.

“Hey, everyone, this is James Warland, the freshman shortstop I was telling you about,” Lucas announced.

James felt several pairs of eyes sizing him up. He recognized the evaluation—he’d done the same thing when new players joined his high school team.

“Warland, huh?” A guy with a buzz cut and broad shoulders extended his hand. “Diego Martinez. Junior. Third base.”

“Nice to meet you,” James said, shaking his hand.

“So you’re the hot shot from Maplewood,” another guy said. This one was leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on a coffee table. “I’m Alex Chen. Senior. Second base.”

James felt the challenge in Alex’s tone. “Looking forward to working with you,” he said neutrally.

Alex’s eyes narrowed slightly. “We’ll see if you’re still starting by midseason, freshman.”

“Ignore him,” a tall, lanky guy cut in. “He says that to all the new guys. I’m Will Jackson. Junior. Center field.”

One by one, James met the rest of the team. Some were friendly, others reserved, a few openly skeptical of the freshman with the scholarship. By the end of the evening, he’d formed a mental map of the team dynamics—who the leaders were, who might be allies, who would be challenges.

As he walked back to his dorm, he called Tyler.

“How was the bug negotiation?” he asked when Tyler answered.

“We’ve established a no-fly zone on my side of the room,” Tyler replied. “How was the baseball brotherhood initiation?”

“Mixed. Some seem cool. Others think I’m going to wash out before midseason.”

“So basically high school but with more facial hair and attitude?”

James laughed. “Pretty much. There’s this one guy, Alex, who definitely has me in his crosshairs.”

“Want me to release Eric’s dung beetles in his bed?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather earn his respect the old-fashioned way.”

“By farting loudly during his solo at the baseball musical?”

“We don’t have a baseball musical, Tyler.”

“Missing an opportunity there.”

James smiled, grateful that despite the changes swirling around them, Tyler was still Tyler.

Chapter 3: First Pitch

The first official team practice was scheduled for 6 AM on Monday. James set three alarms, terrified of oversleeping. Lucas, already accustomed to the early schedule, assured him it got easier.

“Just don’t be the last one there,” Lucas advised as they headed to bed Sunday night. “Coach hates tardiness more than errors.”

James barely slept, his mind running through all the ways he could mess up his first impression. When his alarm blared at 5:15 AM, he was already awake.

The campus was eerily quiet as he made his way to the athletic complex. The sky was still dark, the air chilly with early autumn crispness. A few other players were heading the same direction, their breaths visible in the pre-dawn air.

The baseball facility was impressive—a far cry from Maplewood’s modest field. The locker room alone was bigger than his high school’s entire athletic department.

“Warland!” Coach Marshall’s voice boomed across the room as James entered. “Glad you found us. Locker 17 is yours.”

Coach Marshall was exactly as James remembered from recruitment—tall, imposing, with a weathered face that had seen decades of baseball seasons. He carried himself with the confidence of someone who knew the game inside and out.

James stowed his bag in the assigned locker and quickly changed into practice gear. Around him, the locker room filled with players in various states of wakefulness.

“Alright, gentlemen,” Coach Marshall called, bringing the room to attention. “Welcome to the 2025 season. For those returning, you know what I expect. For our freshmen—” his eyes lingered on James and the few other new faces “—you’ll learn quickly. We work hard. We play smart. We win games.”

He went on to outline the practice schedule, team rules, and academic expectations. James listened intently, determined to absorb every word.

“Now, let’s head out and see what you’ve got,” Coach concluded.

The practice was grueling. After warm-ups and conditioning, they split into position groups. James joined the infielders, acutely aware of Alex Chen watching his every move from second base.

The drills were familiar but executed at a higher pace and intensity than his high school practices. James held his own, making clean throws and fielding ground balls efficiently, if not spectacularly.

“Warland, you’re telegraphing your throws,” Diego called out after watching James field a particularly tricky grounder. “Second baseman can see exactly where you’re going with it.”

James nodded, grateful for the pointer rather than criticism. “Thanks. Old habit.”

“Work on it,” Diego said. “At this level, runners will take advantage.”

By the end of practice, James was exhausted but satisfied. He hadn’t embarrassed himself, which counted as a win for day one.

“Not bad, freshman,” Alex said as they headed back to the locker room. His tone was still measuring, but less dismissive than before.

“Thanks,” James replied. “Still a lot to learn.”

Alex nodded. “At least you recognize that. Last scholarship shortstop we had thought he knew everything already. Transferred after a semester.”

James filed that information away. Clearly, humility was valued—or at least, arrogance was punished.

After showering and changing, James rushed to his first class of the day—Introduction to Psychology at 9 AM. He slid into a seat just as the professor entered, his hair still damp from the locker room.

“Long morning?” Tyler asked, appearing beside him with a steaming cup of coffee.

“Practice was intense,” James whispered as the professor began setting up. “But good. I think.”

“You’re alive, so that’s something,” Tyler said, sliding the coffee over to him. “Figured you’d need this.”

James accepted the coffee gratefully. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Tyler replied with a grin.

As the lecture began, James found his mind drifting back to practice, mentally reviewing the drills and corrections. College baseball was going to demand more of him than high school ever had. The question was whether he could rise to the challenge.

Chapter 4: The Challenge

Three weeks into the semester, James had settled into a grueling routine. Morning practices, classes, afternoon workouts, study sessions, sleep. Repeat. He saw Tyler mainly during their shared Introduction to Psychology class and occasional meals, both of them too busy with their new lives to maintain the constant companionship they’d had in high school.

“You look like death warmed over,” Tyler observed one morning as James slumped into his seat.

“Double practice yesterday,” James explained. “Coach wasn’t happy with our execution on double plays.”

“Is that the technical term for when baseball people mess up? Execution?”

“Something like that.”

The truth was, James was struggling more than he let on. The academic demands of college were significantly higher than high school, and balancing studies with baseball was proving more challenging than he’d anticipated.

“Mr. Warland,” Professor Kirkland called, interrupting James’s thoughts. “Perhaps you’d like to share your insights on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs?”

James froze. He’d been so absorbed in his baseball worries that he hadn’t been following the lecture. “Uh…”

“As I suspected,” Professor Kirkland said dryly. “See me after class, please.”

Tyler shot him a sympathetic look. James felt a flush of embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being unprepared, at least not academically.

After class, he approached Professor Kirkland’s desk, bracing for a lecture on attention and responsibility.

“Mr. Warland,” Professor Kirkland began, removing his glasses and fixing James with a stern look. “I understand you’re on the baseball team.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And I imagine that consumes a significant portion of your time and energy.”

“It does, but that’s not an excuse—”

Professor Kirkland held up a hand. “I’m not interested in excuses. I’m interested in solutions. Your last quiz score was concerning, and your participation in class has been minimal at best.”

James felt a knot in his stomach. Was he already failing? It was only the third week.

“I need to know if you’re serious about this course,” Professor Kirkland continued. “Because if you’re just here to fulfill a credit requirement with minimal effort, I’d rather you drop now and give your seat to someone who values the opportunity.”

The rebuke stung, especially because James knew it was deserved. He had been prioritizing baseball over his studies, assuming he could coast through his classes like he had in high school.

“I am serious about it,” James said firmly. “I’ve just been… adjusting to the college workload.”

Professor Kirkland studied him for a moment. “Very well. Prove it. I want a five-page paper on how Maslow’s hierarchy applies to team dynamics in sports. Due next Monday. Consider it extra credit to make up for that quiz.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

As James left the classroom, Tyler was waiting in the hallway.

“Detention?” Tyler asked.

“Worse. Extra credit paper to save my grade,” James sighed. “I don’t even understand Maslow’s hierarchy, let alone how it applies to baseball.”

“Lucky for you, I do,” Tyler said. “And I happen to have a case study right in front of me—a baseball player struggling to balance his basic needs for sleep and sanity with his higher-level need for athletic achievement.”

“Are you offering to help or analyze me for a future psychology paper of your own?”

“Both, obviously.”

Despite his stress, James smiled. “I’ve missed this, you know.”

“What? Me mocking your suffering?”

“No. Us. Hanging out. Talking about more than just how practice went or what insect Eric added to his collection this week.”

Tyler’s expression softened. “Yeah, me too. College is different, huh? Everyone’s so busy becoming whoever they’re going to be.”

“Including us,” James added.

“Especially us,” Tyler agreed. “So, library tonight? I’ll help you with Maslow if you help me understand why Eric thinks it’s appropriate to keep a terrarium of Madagascar hissing cockroaches on his desk.”

“Deal,” James laughed.

That night, as they settled into a quiet corner of the university library, James felt a wave of déjà vu. It was almost like their tutoring session back at Maplewood, except this time, Tyler was the one explaining the concepts.

“So Maslow’s hierarchy is basically a pyramid,” Tyler began, sketching on a piece of paper. “At the bottom are physiological needs—food, water, sleep. Then safety, then love and belonging, then esteem, and self-actualization at the top.”

James nodded, trying to focus despite his exhaustion. “And how does this relate to baseball?”

“Think about it. A team can’t function if the players’ basic needs aren’t met. If you’re hungry, tired, or injured, you can’t perform well. That’s physiological needs. Safety might be having proper equipment and training to prevent injuries.”

James started to see the connections. “And belonging would be team cohesion—feeling like you’re part of the group.”

“Exactly!” Tyler exclaimed, drawing a few annoyed looks from nearby students. He lowered his voice. “Esteem would be recognition, respect from teammates and coaches. And self-actualization might be reaching your full potential as a player.”

As they worked through the paper, James realized that his current struggles on the team could be analyzed through Maslow’s framework. He was so focused on earning respect (esteem) that he was neglecting his basic needs (sleep, proper nutrition) and even his sense of belonging (isolating himself in practice and study).

“This is actually really helpful,” James admitted as they wrapped up their session. “Not just for the paper, but for understanding what’s been going on with me lately.”

“That’s psychology for you,” Tyler said with mock sageness. “Helping jocks understand their feelings since 1879.”

James rolled his eyes but smiled. “Thanks, Tyler. Seriously.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You still have to write the actual paper.”

As they packed up their things, James felt lighter than he had in weeks. The paper would still be challenging, but he had a direction now—and a renewed appreciation for his friendship with Tyler.

Chapter 5: Finding Balance

The next morning at practice, James approached Diego during warm-ups.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” James began hesitantly.

“Shoot,” Diego replied, stretching his throwing arm.

“How do you balance everything? Baseball, classes, social life?”

Diego considered the question. “Not perfectly, that’s for sure. But I learned something important freshman year—you can’t sacrifice everything for baseball. You’ll burn out.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” James admitted. “I’m already feeling stretched thin, and it’s only been a few weeks.”

“Look, Coach pushes hard because college ball is competitive. But he also understands we’re students. Have you talked to him about what you’re dealing with?”

James shook his head. “I didn’t want to seem like I was making excuses.”

“It’s not about excuses; it’s about communication,” Diego said. “Coach has resources—tutors, study groups specifically for athletes. But you have to ask.”

After practice, James took Diego’s advice and requested a few minutes with Coach Marshall. To his surprise, the coach didn’t seem annoyed but rather nodded as if he’d been expecting this conversation.

“Warland, I was wondering when you’d come talk to me,” Coach said, gesturing for James to sit. “I’ve seen the signs before. Freshmen trying to do it all, be it all, right away.”

“I’m just trying to keep up, Coach.”

“I know. And your work ethic is commendable. But baseball is a marathon, not a sprint. If you exhaust yourself in September, you’ll have nothing left when we need you in April.”

James felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Coach understood.

“We have academic support services for a reason,” Coach continued. “Study hall hours, tutors who understand athletic schedules. Use them. And don’t be afraid to ask teammates for help either. Most of the upperclassmen have been where you are.”

“Even Alex?” James asked skeptically.

Coach chuckled. “Chen had the worst time adjusting of anyone I’ve coached. Almost quit the team his freshman year because he couldn’t handle the pressure. Now he’s our team captain.”

This revelation shocked James. Alex, with his confidence and skill, had struggled too?

“Thank you, Coach,” James said. “I appreciate the advice.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Not just to yell when you bobble a grounder.”

With renewed determination, James threw himself into creating a more balanced approach. He signed up for athlete study halls, started a weekly study group with Tyler and a few other freshmen from the team, and even made time for occasional video game sessions to decompress.

The change didn’t happen overnight. There were still days when he felt overwhelmed, nights when he stayed up too late finishing assignments, practices when his body protested every movement. But gradually, he found his rhythm.

His psychology paper earned a B+, with Professor Kirkland commenting that his application of theory to personal experience showed “promising insight.” His performance at practice became more consistent as he learned to work smarter rather than just harder.

Most importantly, he rekindled his friendship with Tyler, making their study sessions a priority rather than an afterthought. They even included Eric occasionally, who turned out to be a math genius happy to help in exchange for someone listening to his surprisingly fascinating explanations of beetle mating rituals.

One evening, as midterms approached, the three of them were studying in James and Lucas’s dorm room when Alex stopped by.

“Warland, you got a minute?” Alex asked from the doorway.

“Sure,” James replied, surprised. Alex rarely sought him out outside of practice.

“I’ll wait in the hall.”

James exchanged curious looks with Tyler and Eric before following Alex into the corridor.

“Coach tells me you’ve been working with the academic support staff,” Alex began.

“Yeah, it’s been helpful,” James said cautiously, unsure where this was going.

“Good. That’s good.” Alex seemed uncharacteristically hesitant. “Look, I’m not great at this, but… I wanted to say I respect how you’re handling things. Asking for help isn’t easy.”

James was stunned. “Thanks, Alex. That means a lot.”

“I also wanted to invite you to join some of us for extra infield practice on Sunday mornings. Unofficial, just a few guys working on specifics. Might help you with those double play turns.”

“I’d like that,” James said, genuinely touched by the gesture.

Alex nodded. “8 AM. Don’t be late.” He turned to leave, then paused. “And bring your study buddy if he wants. The insect guy too, I guess. We usually grab breakfast after.”

After Alex left, James returned to his room with a grin.

“What was that about?” Tyler asked.

“I think I just got accepted into the baseball brotherhood,” James replied. “And you two are honorary members.”

“Does this mean I have to learn sports terminology?” Eric asked with mock horror.

“No, but you might have to eat breakfast with a bunch of sweaty baseball players on Sunday.”

Eric adjusted his glasses thoughtfully. “Acceptable. Athletes tend to consume protein-rich diets. I can observe their eating habits for my human behavior project.”

Tyler laughed. “See? College is turning us all into interesting people. James is becoming a balanced student-athlete, Eric is studying humans instead of just bugs, and I’m—”

“Still using my library fart as conversational currency?” James interrupted.

“Exactly,” Tyler grinned. “Some things never change.”

Epilogue: Home Run

As the fall semester drew to a close, James looked back on his first few months of college with a mixture of pride and amusement. The terrified freshman who had arrived in September had given way to a more confident, more balanced version of himself.

On the last day before winter break, the baseball team held an informal scrimmage—upperclassmen versus freshmen. Coach Marshall watched from the sidelines, assessing their progress before the official season began in February.

In the bottom of the ninth, with the game tied, James came to bat with two outs and Diego on second base. Alex, pitching for the upperclassmen, gave him a challenging look.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, Warland,” Alex called from the mound.

James settled into his stance, took a deep breath, and focused. The first pitch came in fast—a fastball on the outside corner. Strike one.

The second pitch was a changeup that nearly fooled him. He checked his swing just in time. Ball one.

James stepped out of the box, adjusted his grip, and thought about everything he’d learned since arriving at Eastern State. Not just about baseball, but about himself.

He stepped back in, more determined than ever. The third pitch came right down the middle—a mistake on Alex’s part. James swung with perfect timing, connecting solidly. The ball soared over the left field fence.

As he rounded the bases, he caught sight of Tyler and Eric in the stands, cheering wildly. His teammates waited at home plate, ready to celebrate the walk-off home run.

But it wasn’t just the hit that made James smile as he approached home. It was knowing that he had found his place—not just on the team, but at Eastern State. He had faced challenges, asked for help when he needed it, and emerged stronger.

When he crossed home plate, Alex was the first to greet him with a firm handshake that turned into a surprising half-hug.

“Nice hit, teammate,” Alex said sincerely.

“Nice pitch,” James replied with a grin.

Later, as the team dispersed to finish packing for break, Tyler and Eric joined James on the field.

“That was straight out of a sports movie,” Tyler said, mimicking an announcer’s voice. “And the freshman sensation James Warland delivers in the clutch!”

“Pretty impressive,” Eric agreed. “Although statistically speaking, the probability of such a dramatic conclusion is quite low.”

“That’s what makes it special,” James said, looking around at the field that had become a second home. “Beating the odds.”

As they walked back toward campus, discussing their plans for break and the upcoming semester, James felt a profound sense of gratitude. College had challenged him in ways he hadn’t expected, pushed him beyond what he thought were his limits, and introduced him to new friends while strengthening old bonds.

It wasn’t always easy, and he knew there would be more challenges ahead. But for now, he had hit his first college home run—both on and off the field—and that was enough.

“Just promise me one thing,” Tyler said as they reached the dorms. “When you’re a famous MLB player and they make a movie about your life, make sure they cast someone handsome as me.”

“And ensure my insect collection receives proper scientific consultation,” Eric added. “Hollywood typically exaggerates arthropod characteristics.”

James laughed, throwing his arms around both their shoulders. “Deal. But the library scene stays exactly as it happened.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Tyler replied with a smile. “Some moments are just too legendary to change.”