Liam dove underwater and swam toward the shallow end of the pool. His lungs were nearly bursting when he surfaced. He flipped onto his back, breathed deeply, and stared up into the late-afternoon sky.
Monday had started bright and early with breakfast in the dining hall. The boys ate quickly, knowing that once they were done they’d get to visit the one place they’d all been longing to see: Howard J. Lamade Stadium. When they’d cleared their plates, Mr. Matthews led them out of The Grove. A few minutes later, they were all standing on a vast grassy slope overlooking the pristine baseball diamond.
Mr. Matthews’s face crinkled into a smile. “This is, indeed, the famous Hillside Terrace. It’s empty now, but just you wait. First game, this entire area will be a sea of baseball fans sitting on blankets and beach chairs.”
“And will kids really be sliding down the Hill on cardboard?” Christopher asked. “Like they’re sledding on snow?”
Mr. Matthews laughed. “Sure will! That’s a big Little League tradition.”
“I hope I get to try it,” Christopher said wistfully. “I’ve never gone sledding before.”
“You haven’t?” Liam was shocked. Growing up in Pennsylvania, he had gone sledding practically every winter.
Christopher shrugged. “Not a lot of snow in Southern California. I’ve only seen it on the mountains. Can’t really sled there, can you?”
Liam had no answer for that. But once again, he was reminded of how different California and Pennsylvania were.
After the boys took the grand tour of Lamade, they visited Volunteer Stadium. Later, they had taken batting practice, eaten lunch, and been fitted for their uniforms. Then they’d been allowed to enjoy the rec room. Liam had kept an eye out for Carter the whole day but didn’t see his cousin.
Tuesday morning started with a light practice. After that, the boys were told they could take a swim.
Liam dove under again and swam the rest of the way to the shallow end. He surfaced and held on to the side, his legs floating out behind him.
Suddenly, a hand grasped his ankle and pulled.
“Hey!” he cried, spinning around.
The hand released him. A moment later, a boy broke through the surface waves, his green eyes shining with mirth. “Gotcha, doofus!”
Liam’s jaw dropped. “Dork!” he cried. He hurled himself at Carter, swamping them both in the chest-high water. They splashed and roughhoused until the lifeguard asked them to tone it down a little.
“When’d you get here?” Liam demanded to know as they floated next to each other.
“Yesterday after lunch,” Carter said.
“How was your drive down from Bristol?”
“Long,” Carter answered. “How about your trip from California?”
“Longer. So, any of the guys come to the pool with you?”
Liam kept his voice casual, hoping Carter wouldn’t guess what he really wanted to know.
Carter wasn’t fooled. “Don’t worry. Ash is inside, in the rec room. That’s where I’d be, too, except Coach Harrison heard your team was here at the pool. He gave me permission to come find you.”
“He’s such a great guy,” Liam said, grinning partly because he was so happy to see Carter again and partly because he was relieved that he wouldn’t be seeing Ash just yet. He caught Carter glancing around then, and gave a sly grin. “You don’t have to worry, either. Phillip’s grabbing a nap in the chair over there. If you stay quiet, maybe you won’t wake him.”
“I wasn’t worried.” But Carter’s sheepish smile let Liam know he was relieved not to be facing his rival, either.
Liam floated on his back and stared at the blue sky. “Can you even believe we’re back here?”
Carter slicked back the wet hair from his forehead. “I find it awesome and extremely weird at the same time.”
“That is exactly what I think. And if my team ends up playing your team…” He left the sentence unfinished.
Neither boy said anything for a moment. Then Liam challenged, “So, wanna race?”
Carter slid him a sideways look. “Deep end and back, like last year?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll win again, like last year.”
“Nope.”
“I won every time, you know.”
“That was then,” Liam retorted. “This is now.”
They asked a big-boned blond boy paddling nearby to start them and to judge who touched the wall first upon their return. A few other boys moved away to give them room. “I’ll race winner!” one called.
“I’ll take loser,” another said.
“You are the loser,” the first joked.
The boys all spoke with strong accents. “Where are you guys from?” Liam asked as he and Carter got into position.
“Oz,” the starter said.
“Down Under,” another added.
Carter and Liam exchanged confused looks. The starter and his friends burst out laughing. “Those are nicknames for Australia, mate. My name’s Jon, Jon Burns. That’s Jim, and the other bloke is Nigel.”
Liam and Carter introduced themselves. “Well, whenever you’re ready,” Liam said.
The Aussie held up a finger gun. “On your marks… get set… go!”
Carter and Liam shoved off, arms slicing the surface with steady strokes and legs thrashing violently behind. The waves turned choppy, making it hard for Liam to see Carter clearly. When he touched the deep-end edge and swung around, though, he realized with glee that he was ahead.
Liam ramped up his speed another notch, churning through the water with all his might. His arms screamed for him to ease up, his legs begged for rest, but he ignored their pleas until his fingertips brushed the pool’s side. He whirled. Carter was there, too, panting for breath.
“Who won?” Liam demanded to know.
Jon showed Liam a tiny space between his thumb and forefinger. “You did, by that much.”
Liam whooped.
“Go ahead and enjoy it,” Carter said with a grin. “It’s the only time you’re going to beat me this tournament!”
For a while, the boys swam races with Jon, Jim, and Nigel. Then it was time to get ready for supper.
It was only later that night, when Liam was drowsing in bed, that Carter’s words came back to him.
It’s the only time you’re going to beat me this tournament.
He knew Carter hadn’t meant anything by it. But for some reason, that sentence had him tossing and turning for the next hour.