CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

Liam watched the ball soar as he raced down the base path. When he touched first, he knew.

A three-run homer! West 6, Mid-Atlantic 2!

He rounded second and headed to third.

Carter was standing by the bag, hands on hips and head lowered. Liam’s heart sank a little when he saw his cousin’s posture. As he neared, Carter turned away as if to ignore him. But at the same time, he shifted his hand so the palm was facing his best friend. It was such a slight movement that Liam was sure no one else saw it. He was sure no one saw him brush his fingertips against Carter’s, either. He charged to home plate and jogged to the dugout, where his teammates mobbed him.

West didn’t add any more runs that inning, and Mid-Atlantic closed the four-run gap in the bottom of the third.

Keith reached first on a fielder’s error. He advanced to second when Craig walked. Ash strode to the plate wearing a look of fierce determination. He let the first pitch go by. He must have liked the next one because he took a big cut at it—and clobbered it into center field!

The ball hit the grass and rolled. Christopher darted in to scoop it up. Liam leaped to his feet. “Here! Here!” he cried, positioning himself to catch the relay from the cutoff man. But the ball didn’t get to him in time and first Keith and then Craig scored. Ash reached second and looked eager to go to third but wisely stayed put instead.

Coach Driscoll pulled Elton from the mound and put Carmen in in his place. Carmen took his warm-up pitches, and the home-plate umpire called, “Batter up!”

Carmen pitched carefully to Charlie M., who popped out. Liam watched out of the corner of his eye as Carter approached the plate. The last time the two teams met, Carter had pulled the ball to the right.

Coach Driscoll must have remembered Carter’s hit, too; he waved his outfielders a few steps to the right. Liam shifted in his crouch, relieved—until he saw Carter smile. For one panicked moment, he thought the coach had made a big mistake in repositioning the outfield. He shook his head.

No. Better safe than sorry. Besides, if anyone can catch up to an out-of-reach ball, it’s Rodney!

As it turned out, the outfielders’ position didn’t matter because Carmen hit Carter on the arm with his first pitch.

“Arrrhhh!” Face contorted in pain, Carter dropped the bat and hunched over, grabbing his arm.

“Carter!”

Liam jumped up. The blood drained from his face. Carmen’s fastballs were incredibly powerful, but occasionally wild. Hearing his cousin moan, Liam feared that the arm was broken. He stood by helplessly while the umpire and a medical trainer took Carter to the side. Coach Harrison raced out of the dugout, and they huddled together.

Finally, Carter straightened up and nodded.

“I’m okay, really, I’m fine,” he said repeatedly. He looked straight at Liam and said once more, “I’m fine. It’s just bruised.”

Only then did Liam’s heart start beating regularly again.

Carter shot Liam a smile and trotted off to first base to thunderous applause.

Carmen appeared shaken by the incident. Instead of throwing his usual heat, his next pitch was a meatball. Raj responded with a blast to left field. Luckily for West, it was an easy catch for Nate. When Peter grounded out to first, the chance for Mid-Atlantic to add to its score was eliminated.

“After three, the score stands West, six, Mid-Atlantic, four,” the announcer proclaimed. “These changes for Mid-Atlantic: Now at first base is Stephen Kline. At third is Allen Avery. Ron Davis is in center. Charlie Santiago is in right,” the announcer said.

Liam expected to hear that Carter was going in for Luke. When the substitution wasn’t made, he wondered why.

Would Coach Harrison not have him pitch at all this game? With so much on the line, that seemed crazy.

Maybe he’s saving him until the last inning so he can pitch tomorrow—which he’ll only do if Mid-Atlantic wins, which they’re not going to. The idea that the coach was keeping Carter in reserve seemed more likely.

Another thought pushed into his head then. If Coach Harrison doesn’t play him in the fifth or sixth, I won’t have to face him—or his knuckleball.

He shoved the thought away, angry with himself for worrying about the pitch. If he’s on the mound, I’ll just try my best. Then he grinned, suddenly remembering a movie quote from Star Wars he and Carter used often: “Do, or do not. There is no try.”

Luke struck out two of the four West batters in the top of the fourth to keep the score at West 6, Mid-Atlantic 4. That’s where it was when the inning ended, too, since the West players retired the side one-two-three.

Back in the dugout, Liam hurried out of his catcher’s gear. He was up second, after Rodney. With a home run under his belt, he had a good feeling about his chances at the plate this time, too. He had just put on a batting helmet when the announcer reported another change to Mid-Atlantic’s lineup.

“Now on the mound,” the voice boomed, “Carter Jones.”