My mom and I began our drive at our anticipated departure time of 2:30. We hoped by leaving early that we would avoid most of the traffic in and around Baltimore, which would get us to the hotel at about 8.

I've lived in the suburbs of Baltimore my entire life and couldn't imagine being anywhere else. I've grown up loving going to the harbor to watch boats come through the port and eating fresh seafood at the stands lining the streets. Field trips in elementary and middle school were always to Washington D.C. since it was only a quick hour's drive, but I always enjoyed exploring downtown with my mom on the weekends when we could stroll through the dozens of neighborhoods.

Traffic was unusually light as we drove by most of the city along the water, passing some of the numerous docks and the aquarium. The Orioles' and Ravens' fields flickered by as Mom headed towards I-83 north.

"Are you nervous for tomorrow?" my mom asked once she had successfully merged on to the freeway.

"Yeah. I wish Dad was here," I confessed. My eyes stayed trained out the window to watch the city slowly disappear from view.

"He'll be with you the whole time, just not in person."

"I know. I'm just glad you're bringing me up there."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'm so proud of you for getting where you are. You've worked so hard to get here." We lapsed into silence for several moments before my mom opened her mouth again. "I also need to make sure these coaches don't try to pull any funny business about you being there. They're messing with the wrong people if they try to do that."

I leaned my head back on the headrest and laughed. All my life I've known my mom as being a firecracker when it comes to her job and anything she believed in. Since it's just me and her, she's the one to set things straight with anyone and she was not one to be walked over. "Well, thank you for making sure that doesn't happen."

She nodded her head and smiled cheekily out the front windshield. Sometimes I think she enjoys when someone tries to get in our way because it gives her all the more reason to mow them over and never look back.

After about an hour of driving and looking out the window, I started to get tired. Counting the trees we passed was slowly putting me to sleep, and eventually, my eyelids drooped close.

...

"Hey honey. We're at the hotel," a voice said. A hand rubbed my shoulder as I cracked my eyes open to adjust to where the car was now stopped.

It was now dark outside and a hotel's lights cast shadows across my mom's face as she waited for me to unravel myself from my curled sleeping position.

"I already checked in and they have room service, so we can order some dinner if you're hungry," she said opening up her door to get out of the car.

I stretched my cramped muscles and was met with a loud grumble from my stomach, demanding some food. I pushed open the car door and stepped out in to the humid night air to grab my bag from the trunk. Following my mom through the hotel, she led me down the hall and unlocked the door. I promptly threw myself on to the bed and relaxed into the feather stuffed pillows that were stacked high.

"I don't know why you're so tired when I did all of the driving," my mom said, sitting down on the other side of the bed. "You hungry?"

"Mhm," I mumbled, hoping she understood my muffled answer. From the sound of the phone being picked up from its cradle, I figured my mom had understood.

While I worked on taking off my shoes and getting ready for bed, other than brushing my teeth, my mom ordered our dinner. The kitchen was still making pizzas so she asked for two personal pies: my favorite, Hawaiian, and a chicken barbeque for herself.

I grabbed the remote from the dresser and promptly jumped back on to the bed as I turned the TV on. Flipping through the channels, I stopped on FX, since it was playing one of my favorite movies, Bridesmaids.

My mom and I sat together watching the antics of Kristen Wiig and Maya Rudolph on the screen as we waited for the delivery of our dinner. Eventually, someone knocked on the door and called that they were in fact, room service.

"Toss me my wallet, Gloria," Mom said walking to the door.

I crawled military style to the edge of the bed and plucked her wallet from her purse. Tossing it to her, she payed the server and carried the pizzas to the king sized bed.

Being the mom she was, she warned me as she handed me the box,"It's hot."

My rumbling stomach paid little attention to her warning as I flipped open the top of the box and took a deep inhale of the wonderful smell of pizza. I was practically drooling at the sight of the melted cheese and perfectly browned crust.

"Turn it up. I can't hear," Mom said with her mouth full of pizza. I followed her direction and increased the volume so she could hear what the characters were saying better. I scooted myself back so I was sitting right next to her and enjoy her presence as we watched the movie and ate pizza.

Being just the two of us, my mom and I were very close, so the idea of an entire summer away from her was hard for me to fathom. I relied on her for everything and for the next three months, it would just be me. I knew she was hesitant about this camp at first because of how long I would be gone, but she knew how much this meant to me, so she has become my biggest supporter for participating in this intensive. With that in mind, I reveled in our time together, appreciating her companionship and warmth. We both finished our pizzas as the movie was getting close to ending. I brushed my teeth and changed into my pajamas, ready to go to sleep.

My eyelids were growing heavy again as I pushed the covers back. The warm comforter was inviting and the air conditioning sputtered out a cool breeze. I slid in to bed and relaxed on the pillows. My mind was still wandering as I closed my eyes and awaited sleep, but with my brain considering every worst case scenario that could happen in the next 24 hours, I was wired to stay awake. I stared at the ceiling and willed myself to slow down and take a breath. The butterflies swirling in my stomach disappeared one by one as I imagined myself breathing out every single negative thought. With my head finally clear and my mind at ease, I fell asleep into a dreamless state.

...

RING! RING! RING!

The shrill sound of the hotel phone's ring tone woke me up immediately and I threw a pillow over my head to muffle the deafening noise. The ringing however, continued, and did little to awaken my mom on the other side of the bed.

I sighed and flipped over to pick up the phone myself after realizing she wasn't waking up any time in the near future.

"Hello," I yawned in to the phone.

"Good morning. This is your scheduled wake up call. Have a nice day!" a recorded voice chirped back.

I put the receiver back into its cradle and once again stared at the ceiling. The day was finally here and the butterflies had returned to my stomach, making me almost nauseous. Swallowing the fear that was rising in my chest, I got out of bed and dragged myself to the shower to wake up and hopefully rinse away some of the nerves.

I let the water travel in rivulets down my stomach and arms as I stood under the shower head with the hot water beating down on me. I concentrated on the steps of washing and conditioning my hair to distract myself, taking extra time on each to prolong my time in the shower. However, my mom's knocking on the door reminded me that I couldn't spend the rest of the morning in there. Switching off the water, I grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around myself. I opened the bathroom door to step back into main room where the lights were still off. Mom hustled past me into the bathroom without saying a word of good morning. Neither of us are exactly morning people.

I dug around in my suitcase for several minutes trying to decide what to wear. After several minutes, I figured something very simple would be my best choice since I would already be sticking out like a sore thumb. I pulled on a pair of light wash jean shorts and a black tank top that reached to the top of my shorts. Wrapping my hair in a towel, I rezipped my suitcase and did my makeup while I waited to blow dry my hair. Once again, I didn't bother with anything too outlandish, so I just concealed a few places of redness and put on mascara. Good enough.

Mom eventually emerged from the bathroom still looking rather tired from the long drive the day before. I went back in to the bathroom to blow dry my hair straight and brush my teeth.

We packed our stuff back up and left the room by 9:30, so we could swing by the breakfast they were serving in the lobby. My mom and I talked about some of the new cases she had at work, but I could barely pay attention to what she was saying because of my wandering thoughts.

"You ready?" Mom asked cleaning up our plastic dishes. I nodded and helped her throw away napkins and the plastic utensils.

We grabbed our bags and packed up the trunk of the car again. Hopping in to the car, I plugged the address in to the GPS. We sat in silence for the first half hour. With nothing to talk about and little interest in scrolling through my phone, I was left with the pit in my chest and my imagination. I bounced my knee up and down as my anxiety steadily grew. In the last few years, I've kept my anxiety for the most part under control with the help of a therapist and medication when I needed it. It had been awhile since I had really experienced uncontrollable anxious thoughts, but this camp was the first time in a while I was going to be out of my routine or without my mom. Now I was staring down three months of time that I had no idea what was going to happen or any real control and my mom was going to be hundreds of miles away.

The tension that was practically oozing out of me had caught my mom's attention the moment we got in the car. As much as I appreciated my mom, she also knew how much I prefer doing things myself, including pulling myself out of these types of moments. I was stubborn in that way, but she couldn't say anything since she was the same way. However, after thirty minutes of me continuing to brew in my own thoughts, she intervened. "Why are you anxious?" she asked directly. She wasn't one to beat around the bush with me.

I shrugged my shoulders despondently, but I knew she could see right through it.

"Gloria, I understand why you would be nervous, but they wouldn't have invited you to this camp unless they thought you should be there. There are going to be players and probably coaches that are not going to think you should be there based solely on the fact that you are a woman. Being outwardly nervous is only going to give them invitation to target you more. They will chew you up and spit you out if you give them the opportunity. When we walk in to get you signed in, hold your head up high and stand your ground. You already have intimidated most of them by being invited and accepting the offer. Go show them what you're made of and woman up." My mom has tough skin and ever since I was little, she has instilled that strong-will within me. Having experienced the things we have in the last decade, there was no other choice but to be resilient and not give in.

"You're right," I agreed after digesting her words. When have I ever been one to back down?

"Of course I am," she replied teasingly.

We both laughed at that and the tension that had been sitting on my chest, crushing me was broken apart as I breathed in the confidence my mom was giving me. Being a girl in a boy's world for most of my life, there is a certain level of confidence you have to have to survive. Being meek or too gentle would enable anyone to walk all over you, so a certain level of swagger had slowly developed within me. If any time was right, it was this moment that I needed to tap into that source.

Finally being able to concentrate on more than just my panic, I read the road signs to realize that we only had a few miles to go. With each passing exit, I concentrated on slowing my pounding heart and deepening my breaths. When we made it to the front entrance of the college, I had found my calm and was instead preparing for the war I was going to be fighting for the next three months.

Mom followed several other cars going in to the college who seemed to be following the same signs that we were. We pulled into a large parking lot that was sandwiched between a baseball complex and two buildings that upon further inspection, I realized were a dorm and dining auditorium. The dining auditorium had a sign that said "Registration" taped to its door and several groups of people were already heading inside.

My mom and I both took a moment to survey the campus that I would be living on for the next three months. "Seems nice," she commented after a moment. "Now, let's do this." Without warning, she pushed open her door and got out.

"You got this," I whispered to myself before following her lead. We headed to the double doors of the dining auditorium behind a group of parents and their sons. One of the dads graciously held the door open for my mom and I, having no idea that I may be one of his son's teammates or opponent.

Tables were scattered across the dining hall and were occupied by parents and guys as they filled out registration papers and talked amongst themselves. Although I had made a quiet entrance behind a large group, I felt eyes on me almost immediately. Upon my scan of the room, I was the only girl my age that was there. Although this was common for me at this point, I usually had teammates, so I had people to talk to and look apart of the team. I was completely alone here.

"The registration table is over there," Mom said pointing at a group of men sitting behind a table in the corner.

I nodded and followed behind her, avoiding eye contact with anyone. And yet, I could still feel the eyes that were watching me from every direction. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a few brave souls even winked at me. Boy, were they in for a surprise.

When we reached the registration table, I was pleasantly surprised to see three familiar faces when everything else was so foreign.

Coach Luck, Coach Roberts, and Coach Russ were three of the coaches that came to see me play with my travel team last summer.

Although first a bit skeptical of me, both Coach Luck and Coach Roberts were all for me coming to this camp after watching me play. I connected to Coach Luck right off the bat because he was also from Maryland and knew my club coaches from college. On the other hand, Russ had been my biggest critic out of all the coaches who had come to the game. He hadn't even wanted to come in the first place, which he reminded me often upon our first introduction. He told me straight that he thought women had no place in baseball and especially at this summer intensive. Even after extensive conversations with my coaches and me, he remained unmoved in his view that I did not belong. Luckily, he had been the minority and I was given the invitation.

"Gloria, my favorite player!" Coach Luck greeted me. He stuck his hand out for me to shake with a big smile on his face.

"Hey Coach Luck," I said back. I nodded at the other two coaches, which resulted in a smile from Roberts. Russ blatantly ignored me and busied himself with shuffling papers around. I internally rolled my eyes and looked back to Coach Luck.

"Here are the forms you need to fill out, Victoria," Coach Roberts said to my mom handing her a stack of papers, a pen balancing on top.

"Thank you. It's nice to see all three of you," my mom replied pointedly looking at Russ. She loved the kill them with kindness tactic. Russ shifted uncomfortably in his chair, grumbling something about how it was nice to see her too.

"You can bring your bags in here and some of the staff will bring them up to your rooms," Coach Luck told me as my mom started towards one of the tables, so she could fill out the registration papers.

"I'll be right back." I snagged the car keys from my mom as she took a seat and gave me an absentminded nod, reading over the liability form.

There were only a few people left in the parking lot as I walked out and unlocked our car. Other than the unpleasant greeting from Russ, registration was going smoothly and I was settling into my usual confidence.

I popped the trunk and reached my hand in to grab my bags. However, the drive had made my suitcase and bat bag shift to the front of the car and I couldn't reach the handles no matter how far I stretched. Climbing up on to the trunk, I got on all fours and crawled as far as I could into the small trunk area. I grabbed one handle with two fingers and pulled at the strap. Having some traction, I yanked at the bag, but a loud whistle behind me startled me enough that my bracing arm slipped and I fell forward, barely catching myself before ramming my head into the floor.

"God damn it," I snapped. Crawling out backwards, I stepped out of the trunk, ready to give someone a piece of my mind. I brushed back my now unruly hair from my face so I could see who this asshole was. A guy my age stood a few feet away from the car, watching me with an amused expression on his face.

He was probably 6'2 and had floppy blonde hair and green eyes. Even from several feet away, I could tell he was pretty muscular and toned from his thin T-shirt that clung to his chest and back. He was more than attractive and in any other circumstance, I might have given him a second look, but the pretentious smirk on his face and the fact that he had just whistled at me rubbed me the wrong way. I didn't even know this guy and I wanted to smack the grin off his face. We stared each other down before I finally opened my mouth.

"Can I help you?" I spit out.

"Just wanted to see," he said smoothly. His green eyes sparkled mischievously, but I took the bait.

"See what?"

"What face matched that ass," he said without hesitation.

My jaw practically hit the asphalt in disgusted shock. I could not believe that someone could say such a thing to a complete stranger.

"You're disgusting and pathetic," I retorted. I could feel the anger building in my chest. "Move along, Jackass."

"The name's Miles, not Jackass."

"I didn't ask." I spun on my heel and yanked my bags out of the car. I swung my bat bag over my shoulder and rolled my suitcase behind me. Sadly, I heard him following me to the registration building.

"Aw, how nice, you're getting your brother's things. Who's your brother because he is my new best friend," Miles said pushing his hands in his pockets. He seemed not to get the message that I had no desire to speak to him ever again.

I ignored his persistence and tried walking faster to lose him, but his long strides kept him right next to me.

"What's your name?" he pressed again.

No answer from me.

We got to the double doors and he held one open for me to walk through. I glared at him in response, very capable of opening the door myself. I stomped over to the registration table without saying thank you, but he remained on my tail. All three coaches had broad smiles on their faces when I returned, but I quickly realized that they were directed at the boy next to me.