“You’re going on a date?” Jordy said over the phone, sounding incredulous. “You’re twelve years old!”

“It’s not a date,” Connor said.

“Let me get this straight,” Jordy said. “You’re a boy. She’s a girl. You’re meeting her to get something to eat. At a place in town. But that’s not a date? What is it, a dentist appointment?”

“Getting something to eat was Melissa’s idea,” Connor said. “She even said she’d pay for it. But mainly she wants to take photos of me at the field for her Tattler story.”

“Yeah, right,” said Jordy. “Like she can’t wait one more day until we play the Red Sox. And get all the shots she needs. Sorry, bro, but this sounds like a date.”

“It’s not a date,” Connor said. “We don’t even like each other.”

Actually, Connor wasn’t sure that was true. It used to be true. But Melissa had kept her end of the bargain by not posting the video. And since then she seemed to be…well, rooting for him. Kind of.

“It’s just an interview,” Connor said, as much to himself as to Jordy.

After he hung up, Connor stole a quick look at himself in the mirror. His Orioles uniform was clean and ironed, and his cap looked good, pulled low over the eyes with the brim curved and tilted at a slight angle, the way Adam Jones wore his.

It occurred to him that he had never before ironed his baseball uniform or studied himself in the mirror after he put it on. He’d never much cared what he looked like in it, either.

Until today, for some reason.

But it’s definitely not a date, he thought as he ran out the back door, grabbed his Rawlings bat, and jumped on his bike.

All they were doing, Connor told himself, was having a slice of pizza at Big Al’s Italian Villa. But Melissa offering to pay was definitely key. Connor was broke, as usual. And just the day before, when he had asked his parents about paying for two new tires for his bike, that hadn’t gone over real well, either.

“Didn’t you get the memo about me being out of work? And money being tight?” his dad had snapped.

Bill Sullivan had just returned from another job interview that hadn’t gone well, judging from how tired and discouraged he looked. This one was at a Honda dealership forty minutes away, where his dad said he spent a half hour in the showroom being ignored and drinking stale coffee before the sales manager sat him down for the shortest job interview in history.

But when Connor explained how he had come to find his bike tires slashed, his dad’s voice had softened and he shook his head.

“I’m calling that kid’s parents,” he’d said, reaching for the phone.

“Dad, it’s a waste of time,” Connor had told him. “Billy will just deny he did it. Nobody saw him do it.”

A few minutes later, his dad had put Connor’s bike in the back of the SUV and taken it to the local bicycle repair shop, where two new knobby tires were purchased and mounted at a cost of $63.75.

Dad always comes through, Connor thought as he pedaled to meet Melissa. Now if only something would come through for him.

Big Al’s was crowded with dinner customers by the time he arrived. He spotted Melissa at a table in the rear, scribbling on a napkin, her backpack slung over a chair. She looked up and smiled when he sat down.

“Tell me you like pepperoni,” she said.

“Ohh-kay,” Connor said. “I like pepperoni.”

“Good,” Melissa said, “because I ordered two slices of pepperoni for us. And two Sprites. Maybe I should have waited for you. My little brother says I’m always trying to take charge. He’s probably right.”

“If you like pepperoni, I like pepperoni,” Connor said, which brought another smile from Melissa.

He really hadn’t meant to sound so…sappy. It just slipped out. Jordy would have killed him for that one! He would have said, “C, you’re making me gag.”

Melissa looked different today, Connor decided.

Different in a really good way. She was wearing a cool Girl Power T-shirt and what looked like new jeans. And there was something happening with her hair, although Connor couldn’t figure out exactly what.

While they were waiting for their food, Melissa said, “I want to show you something.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out a video camera. After pressing a few buttons, she looked at the display and nodded. “Here,” she said, handing it to Connor. “Take a look.”

And there it was in all its full-color digital glory: Connor Sullivan wigging out like a middle-school madman in the Yankees game. Sailing that horrible throw to first base, tossing the glove in a rage, snarling at Jordy, whipping the bat against the dugout wall, and then fleeing in tears.

Connor watched the whole thing in silence. Now he was the one who was gagging.

“Well,” he said finally, handing the camera back, “that ruined my appetite.” Now he was ticked off. Was this whole thing a setup? “What’s the deal? I thought you were going to erase that.”

For the first time ever, Connor saw Melissa get flustered. “Wait, I didn’t mean to…I am going to erase it, I promise. But first I wanted you to see it. I thought you might want to know what one of your meltdowns looks like.”

“Why would I?” Connor said. “I look like a real brat. It’s so embarrassing.”

“But it’s over now,” Melissa said. “I swear I’m not going to use it.”

Connor couldn’t look at her. He felt like getting up and leaving.

“I like the new and improved Connor way better,” Melissa said quietly.

That got his attention. She was smiling at him, but her eyes looked sad. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was really stupid of me. I’m going to erase it right now. In fact, here.” She gave him the camera and pointed to the delete button. “You can do the honors.”

It felt good to trash that file, but Connor was still wary. “How do I know it isn’t already uploaded to your computer?”

“Look, Connor,” Melissa said, putting both of her palms up on the table. “If I wanted to, I could have spread that video all over the Internet by now. But I didn’t. It was a great piece, but I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

She looked so sincere, Connor had to believe her. “But then why show it to me at all?”

“Like I said, I thought it would help if you saw what you looked like. It would stop you from ever doing it again.”

Connor had to admit that, after seeing that footage, he deserved the nickname Psycho Sully.

“Can we start over?” Melissa asked. “I still want to do the story on you. It looks like you guys really might win the championship. And you’re the reason why.”

Connor blushed. This girl really knew how to make him feel like he was on a roller coaster.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, trying hard not to sound like a spoiled brat. “You are paying for the pizza, after all.”

She laughed, and the tension broke.

After they had finished their pizza, Connor got his bike and the two of them walked over to Eddie Murray Field.

They had about an hour before it would get too dark to take pictures.

Melissa wanted some shots of Connor in his batting stance, so they set up in the batter’s box at home plate. Connor held the bat high and waved it in tiny circles. He tried to look menacing, as if he were about to crush the next pitch into another area code. But that was hard to do when you had a pretty girl pointing a camera at you instead of a pitcher like Billy Burrell glaring at you from the mound, ready to throw a blazing fastball under your chin.

“Tell me something,” Melissa said, as she snapped away. “Why did you get so angry in those games? I asked your teammates—even took all this video of Marty Loopus, just to get him to talk. And they all said you never had a bad temper until recently.”

Connor groaned. “Do we have to go into that again?” He put down his bat. “You never give up, do you?”

“I guess we’re both obsessed,” she said. “Me with journalism, you with baseball. But I don’t get as upset when I make mistakes.”

“It was more than that,” said Connor. And before he could stop himself, he told Melissa everything—how baseball was his favorite thing in the world, how things at home were tense, how he didn’t like everything being out of control…

Blah, blah, blah, Connor thought after a while. I’m probably boring her to tears.

But Melissa had been listening intently.

“My mom was out of work last year,” she said. “It was hard. She’s a single mom. I had to go to school and then come home and watch my little brother and sister while she was looking for work. Maybe that’s why I’m so bossy.”

Connor grinned.

“It took her six months to find another job,” Melissa continued. “We were all so worried.” She shuddered at the memory. “I’m sorry you’re going through it. I hope your dad finds something soon. Everyone will feel better after that.”

It was getting late. Melissa took a few more shots of him running the bases, and then they said good-bye, with her promising she’d see him at the big game tomorrow.

Riding home, Connor found himself smiling as he played back the last ninety minutes in his mind. It had gotten off to a rocky start, but after that it had been pretty easy to talk to Melissa. In some ways, it was like talking to Jordy or Willie or any of the guys. In other ways it was totally different, which he couldn’t quite figure out.

Maybe it had something to do with the way she looked at him.

All in all, he concluded, it had been a fun afternoon.

But whatever it was, it wasn’t a date.

Uh-uh, he thought. No way.