Stop being such a coward, Carter rebuked himself. Go talk to him!
It was late Wednesday afternoon, and he and his teammates were making their way through the food line at the pre–Grand Slam Parade picnic. Hosted by a local university, the picnic was held outside under big white tents. One at a time, the teams filed past banquet tables loaded with food, the players filling their plates with hot dogs and hamburgers, salads and side dishes. They helped themselves to drinks and desserts, too, and found seats beneath another tent.
The West players were just approaching the food tent. They were easy to identify in their team jerseys and matching caps. Carter, moving through the food line with the other Mid-Atlantic players, picked out Liam right away. He also saw Rodney, whom he had met while visiting Liam earlier this summer.
Then he saw Phillip.
Last year, Phillip had taken him by surprise, popping out from a corner of The Grove rec room and calling him Number One Fan, the nickname he’d given Carter at baseball camp.
Carter hated that nickname. It made him feel stupid.
When he first met Phillip at camp, he’d been starstruck, believing Phillip was related to the late, great Joe DiMaggio. He’d asked Phillip to sign his camp jersey. Phillip had scrawled To Carter Jones, DiMaggio’s Number One Fan! on the shoulder. Later, Carter remembered that Joe DiMaggio had no direct descendants, so there was no way he and Phillip were related. But the damage was done. Phillip had called him Number One Fan for the rest of camp.
This year, Carter intended to make the first move. Now that Phillip and Liam were teammates, friends even, it just made sense to put their past differences aside, he told himself. Off the field at least. On the field, well, that was another story.
In the past two days, he’d spotted Phillip twice in the dining hall and once at the pool. But he was always at a distance, so it had been easy to come up with excuses—he had to eat with his team, he wasn’t going swimming anymore—to avoid crossing paths.
Now with the teams mingling at the picnic, a meeting seemed inevitable. Carter tried to psych himself up to approach Phillip. He wasn’t having much luck.
I’ll eat first, he decided as the Mid-Atlantic players found seats together, then I’ll go talk to him. I’ll just walk up, stick out my hand, and say… something. He figured that “something” would come to him. If it didn’t, the handshake would be a start. One step at a time.
When he stood up to dispose of his trash fifteen minutes later, his stomach still flip-flopped with nerves. Here goes nothing, he thought.
Rodney Driscoll suddenly appeared in front of him.
“Dude!” Rodney cried. “I was hoping to run into you here!”
“Hey, Rodney!” Carter said, grinning. “It’s awesome to see you! But I can’t hang out right now. I’m going to—”
“—talk to Phillip?” Rodney interrupted with a knowing glance from Carter to Phillip and back. When Carter nodded, Rodney pulled out his phone. “Before you do, don’t you want to hear what he’s been saying about you?”
The smile slipped from Carter’s face. “Hang on. DiMaggio’s been talking about me?”
“Mmm-hmm. Look at this.” Rodney swiped his finger across the phone’s surface and held it out so they could both see the screen. “Your cousin Melanie sent this video clip to me.”
As part of her documentary about Ravenna’s tournament experience, Melanie had interviewed many of the players, their families, and their coaches. The video on Rodney’s phone was a joint interview with Liam and Phillip. Rodney thumbed up the volume so they could hear over the picnickers.
“Liam and I got off to a rocky start back at the Little League Baseball World Series,” Phillip was saying. “I’m not going to go into what happened there, though, because it’s all in the past.”
Rodney fast-forwarded. “That’s not the interesting part. Here we go.” He restarted the clip.
“And what about Carter Jones?” Melanie asked from offscreen. “Is he in the past now, too?”
On-screen, Liam’s eyes narrowed. His lips tightened.
Carter sucked in his breath. He could read every one of Liam’s expressions. That look was a warning to Melanie to back off. He could think of only one reason for that warning. Liam’s worried about what Phillip might say about me. That made Carter worried, too.
Phillip shifted slightly in his seat before replying. “Carter and I have had some issues,” he acknowledged.
Carter braced himself for Phillip’s interpretation of their “issues.”
“But I respect him,” Phillip said.
Carter’s jaw dropped. Next to him, Rodney started laughing.
“He’s a really good pitcher,” Phillip continued. “He’d have to be, I guess, to learn how to throw a knuckleball. I mean, I couldn’t do it.”
Liam’s expression changed to one of astonishment. “Wait, you tried to learn the knuckleball?”
Phillip nodded. “Tried. Failed. Gave up, actually.”
Liam’s laugh boomed out of the phone’s tiny speakers. “Good thing, considering I’m your catcher now. See, I tried to catch Carter’s knuckleball. Tried. Failed. Gave up, actually.”
Rodney hit the Stop button then. “Did you hear the key phrases?” he asked mischievously. “ ‘In the past. I respect him. Really good pitcher.’ ” He waved the phone. “I can replay the clip if you missed them!”
Carter jabbed him in the ribs. “Very funny!”
“Oh, there’s one other thing, too,” Rodney added. “I don’t have it on video or anything, so you’ll have to take my word for it. Before the West Regional Tournament, Phillip told Liam he never should have played that prank on you at baseball camp.”
Carter stared at Rodney. “You know about that?”
Rodney nodded. “Phillip mentioned it once. I asked Liam about it later, and he told me.”
“Oh. So you know there’s been some bad blood between me and Phillip since then.” Carter jerked his chin at Rodney’s phone. “What I don’t get is why you shared that with me.”
Rodney smiled. “I’m a big believer in fresh starts, Carter. Sean and I got one years ago, when our dad adopted us. We hoped Liam could have one in California, which is why we never brought up his World Series strikeout.” He gestured to the players around them. “This tournament should be about baseball, about playing with and against people from all over the world who love the sport the way we do. I didn’t want an old grudge to ruin that for you or Phillip—or to get in the way of you playing the best ball you can. That’s why I showed you the clip.”
Carter nodded slowly as Rodney’s words sank in. Then he looked over to where Phillip was sitting.
At that same instant, Phillip glanced up. He and Carter locked eyes.
A year ago, Phillip’s gaze would have been mocking and loaded with smugness. The connection would have sent a jolt of anxiety through Carter’s system. But this year, Carter saw something different in Phillip’s eyes.
It’s like he’s hoping I’ll come over, Carter thought with a start.
But before he could make a move in that direction, one of his team hosts hurried over to him. “Sorry to interrupt your conversation, Carter, but it’s time to board the shuttle bus for the parade. You should probably join your team, too,” she said with a nod to Rodney.
“Will do!” Rodney turned to leave.
Carter caught him by the arm. “Thanks, man.”
Rodney’s smile was full of warmth. “Happy to help.”