The whole thing had been so terrible that Cassie felt as if it had happened to her. Because if something hurt Jack, it hurt her, too.
“It would still be cool if you guys got a chance to play on TV,” Cassie said.
“Why do I need TV,” he said, “when I feel like we’re all in a movie?”
He was pitching today against Rawson. He had Sam Anthony in left field, something he’d done a couple of times before, even though Sam had told Jack he didn’t need to be in the lineup when he wasn’t pitching, especially now that he’d started to pitch a little better. But Jack told him that he wasn’t just part of the team on days he pitched, he was part of their team every day.
And it turned out he was a pretty decent hitter. Cassie and Jack watched now as he put two batting-practice pitches thrown by J.B. over the left-field fence. When he came back to the bench, Jack said, “You know, you’ve surprised me.”
“Why, because I don’t stink at pitching now?”
“No,” Jack said, “because you don’t stink at hitting.”
Sam actually laughed. It occurred to Cassie that the sound of Sam Anthony laughing was almost as unusual as Sarah doing the same thing. She couldn’t get inside Sarah’s head. She’d probably never be able to do that.
But at least Sam Anthony was acting like less of an outsider these days. Her dad always liked to talk about the law of unintended consequences. Maybe one of the consequences for the Cubs now that Jack was coaching was that Sam felt as if he were a part of something too.
More than he ever would have been with his dad coaching the team.
• • •
The Cubs were in first place alone by now. Rawson was in second, a game behind them. If the Cubs could win today, with only a week left in the regular season, they’d lock up the top seed, and home field for the play-offs. And she knew that Jack wanted that, even if he never talked about it in front of the team.
“Last ups,” he told Cassie. “You always want last ups.”
“I like our chances today,” she said. “The guy who’s starting isn’t half-bad. He isn’t me, of course.”
“Who is?” Jack said, and then gave her a quick high five and grabbed Teddy for a few more warm-up pitches.
The Cubs scored first when Jack hit his first home run of the season, making it 1–0 in the bottom of the first. The score hadn’t changed by the bottom of the fourth, when Cassie turned around and noticed that Sarah was sitting across the field, in the last row of the third-base bleachers. Cassie gave her a wave. Sarah didn’t wave back. When Jack took a seat next to Cassie on the bench, she told him about Sarah.
“Looks like the team has added a fan,” she said.
“Well, let’s see if we can send her home happy with a win,” Jack said.
“Good luck with that.”
“Getting a win?”
“No,” Cassie said. “Making her happy.”
Jack struck out the side in the top of the fifth. But in the top of the sixth, he did something he hardly ever did in a close game. He got ahead 0–2 on the Rawson shortstop, elected not to waste a pitch and try to get the kid to chase. He tried to blow a fastball by him, and the shortstop, a lefty hitter, hit one over the right-field fence. Way over.
Just like that, they were tied. When the top of the inning was over, Jack walked slowly back to the bench. But Cassie knew him well enough to know how furious he was with himself, just by the way she could see him taking one deep breath after another. And she knew enough not to say a single word to him. She decided instead that this was a good time to go get a drink of water.
Brett’s dad was the adult on their bench tonight. He was the one keeping the pitch count on Jack. When Cassie sat down next to them, Jack was saying, “Where am I, Mr. Hawkins?”
“You’re one short of your limit.”
Jack turned and said, “J.B., start warming up.”
He grabbed his glove and a ball and went behind the bench, and Teddy grabbed his own mitt. Teddy said to Jack, “You okay?”
“Been better.”
“I should have made you waste one.”
“Nope,” Jack said. “On me.”
“We’ll get a run.”
“Better,” Jack said.
Not only did they get a run, but Teddy did the honors, a monster home run to the almost identical spot in right field. It was 2–1 going to the seventh. J.B. walked his first two batters, but then he got a strikeout. And then a fly ball to center that was deep enough to advance both runners. Two outs, both Rawson runners in scoring position. The Rawson center fielder, Kenny Wright, was coming to the plate.
As he walked behind Teddy and the home plate umpire, Cassie felt a tap on her shoulder.
Sarah.
Cassie had forgotten she was even at the game.
“I need to tell you something,” Sarah said.
“Kind of a bad time,” Cassie said. “Can’t it wait?”
“No.”
“You sure?” Cassie said.
“Is it a bad time if I can help your team win the game?” Sarah said.
“Not sure I understand.”
“I like to watch center fielders,” she said.
Cassie looked over, saw that Kenny Wright had taken off his batting glove and was putting it back on.
“Okay,” Cassie said.
“I watch them really, really, really closely,” Sarah said, as if she had all day for this particular conversation. “You can learn a lot by not talking and just watching. I know how much you like to talk. I like to watch, especially when they’re playing the same position I do.”
“Okay,” Cassie said again.
Kenny Wright fouled off J.B.’s first pitch to
