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  She stared down at the ground through the bleachers. “But it’s different here. My brother’s not here. There’s no professional ball team here. And now I can’t even play, myself. I … I really miss baseball, Elizabeth. I don’t know who I am without it. Does that make sense?”

  Elizabeth looked away. “Sort of,” she said softly. “That’s pretty much how I felt when my mom left.”

  Joelle opened her mouth, but no words came out. She didn’t know what to say. “Your mom … left?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “On Christmas Day last year. With some guy. She just told my dad this wasn’t the life she wanted and then she was gone.”

  “Wow.” Joelle felt terrible. Her own problem seemed pretty insignificant in comparison to her friend’s. “Do you ever, um, hear from her?”

  Elizabeth shrugged. “Sometimes. Not a lot. At first I kept hoping she’d come back, but I don’t think she will. I don’t really want to talk about it.” She blinked away tears.

  “Okay, sure,” Joelle answered carefully. But she had a feeling Elizabeth probably did need to talk about it. Maybe not right now, especially here in the middle of baseball practice. But sometime.

  Joelle cleared her throat. “Um, if you ever do want to talk, let me know, okay?” Joelle wasn’t sure she’d be very good at talking or listening. She hadn’t had a lot of practice. Most of her friends back in Minneapolis were guys. They didn’t sit around and talk much. But Joelle was willing to give it a try.

  “Okay.” Elizabeth sniffed and quickly swiped her eyes. “I’m fine. Thanks, Joelle.”

  Joelle knew her friend wasn’t fine. But she didn’t want to be pushy.

  The two of them sat together in silence for a while, watching the Hawks practice fielding.

  “Some of these guys are really terrible,” Joelle said, resting her chin in her hands.

  “Ryan’s not so bad,” Elizabeth said as Rubber Band jumped up to catch a pop fly. “You know, he asked me about you the other day.”

  Joelle tucked her hair behind her ear. “Oh yeah? What did he say?” she asked, keeping her gaze on the practice field.

  “He just wanted to know who you were,” Elizabeth said, shrugging. “I told him your name and that you just moved here from Minneapolis. I think maybe he likes you.”

  A boy liked her? As in liked her liked her? “What makes you think that?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Just a hunch.”

  Joelle chewed the inside of her cheek and watched Ryan as he jogged back to the end of the line. He was kind of cute, she had to admit.

  Coach Carlyle blew his whistle. “Okay, that’s it for today!” he called.

  Most of the Hawks bolted toward the school as though they’d been released from prison. But Ryan stayed behind to help his dad gather equipment. He didn’t look up at the bleachers.

  Joelle rose to her feet. “I guess we should go, too.” She made a point of not looking Ryan’s way, either.

  The girls climbed down from the stands and walked along the fence. Joelle glanced over her shoulder once and saw Ryan staring after her. She quickly turned around again, her face burning.

  Did Ryan Carlyle actually like her?

  Well, it didn’t matter, Joelle told herself quickly. It would never work. Ryan Carlyle was the enemy’s son.

  Joelle never set her alarm on Saturdays. After getting up at six o’clock every school day during the week to run, she figured she deserved a break. But she was so used to waking up at the crack of dawn, it was hard to sleep late.

  She stayed in bed till eight-thirty. Then she pulled on one of Jason’s old T-shirts and a pair of sweatpants, ran a comb through her hair, and went out for her run. This time she headed down to the park at the end of the block.

  It was a nice day, so there were quite a few other joggers out. Joelle followed the path over a small bridge, around a bend, and toward what looked like a baseball diamond. A group of kids were gathered around a couple of benches next to the fence.

  Joelle slowed to take a closer look. Some of the kids looked familiar. She was pretty sure she recognized a boy from her English class. And another from her science class. Several in the group held mitts and bats.

  Joelle dropped her pace to a walk, her eyes still focused on the group of ballplayers. A large boy with a Twins cap stepped aside and then Joelle saw who was standing behind him: Ryan Carlyle.

  Ryan must have noticed her at exactly the same moment. “Hey!” he called, waving.

  Was he talking to her? Joelle checked behind her.

  “Yeah, you!” Ryan said, pointing straight at Joelle. “You want to play? We’ve got uneven sides.”

  Joelle could hardly believe her luck. What had Jason said about letting people see what she could do? And who could be better than Coach Carlyle’s son?

  “Sure!” Joelle answered eagerly and ran toward the group. A couple of the guys exchanged looks, but she didn’t care. She’d show them. Even better, she was finally going to get to play some ball!

  “Okay, let’s see if she’s really as good as she thinks.” A guy with a serious acne problem punched a fist into his glove and grinned good-naturedly.

  A tall, shaggy-haired boy looked at Joelle. “What’s your name again?” He had eyebrows that joined together at the bridge of his nose.

  “Joelle.”

  “I’m Ian. You’re on their team,” he said, jerking his chin toward the group of guys who were already starting to take the field.

  “Okay,” Joelle said. “But I don’t have my glove with me.”

  “You can borrow mine.” The boy who was in line to bat after Ian tossed his glove to her.

  Joelle caught it. “Thanks.”

  There weren’t enough players to cover all the positions, so Joelle wasn’t sure where to go.

  “You want to play third?” Ryan called to her.

  That wasn’t her first choice, but it looked like Ryan had already claimed first base for himself.

  “Sure,” Joelle said. She couldn’t afford to be picky right now. At least she was getting to play.

  She didn’t get much opportunity to show anyone what she could do during the first inning. Whenever the ball came anywhere near her, the guy playing second ran in front of her yelling, “I got it! I got it!”

  That really ticked Joelle off. The guy was all elbows and knees. He reminded her of those droids in Star Wars that had to unroll themselves before they could attack. Only this guy never got himself unrolled in time to get the ball.

  “Hey, excuse me,” Joelle said after the third time he lunged in front of her. “I thought I was playing third.”

  “Well, uh …” The boy just looked at her with a clueless expression on his face.

  Joelle glared at him. “You thought I’d miss?”

  “Come on, you guys. Let’s just play,” the pitcher called. When he adjusted his cap, Joelle recognized him as the Hawks pitcher. “Hughes, play your own position,” he added. “And you—” he pointed to Joelle and hesitated.

  What? Had he forgotten her name already?

  “Just catch the ball when it comes to you, okay?” the pitcher finished.

  Duh, Joelle thought. “Thanks,” she said sarcastically. “I’ll try.”

  Unfortunately, the ball didn’t come her way for the rest of that inning.

  When it was Joelle’s turn at bat, the guys actually moved in for her. That was totally annoying. But if she got the right pitch, they’d regret it.

  “Come on, Joelle!” One of her teammates clapped.

  “Hey, look. She’s a lefty!” the other pitcher said to his teammates when she took her position. But he didn’t sound too worried.

  Joelle adjusted her footing and her grip. She let the first pitch go by. One strike. She squared up again. All she needed was a high fastball.

  And that was exactly what she got.

  Crack! The ball sailed over all the outfielders’ heads.

  Behind her, Joelle heard Ryan give a low whistle under his breath.

  Th
e pitcher took off his cap and watched as the ball fell to the ground over by the playground swings.

  Joelle grinned as she dropped the bat and started around the bases. Two guys took off after the ball, but there was no doubt she would make it all the way home.

  “All right!” Ryan and the rest of her teammates applauded when she crossed the plate.

  “Not bad.” A guy with glasses slapped her on the back. He sounded totally surprised.

  “Thanks,” Joelle replied coolly.

  As the morning went on, Joelle got three more hits—a single, a double, and another home run. And Hughes even gave her a chance to field now and then. She didn’t get every ball that came her way, but she did all right. By the time the game broke up, some of the guys were almost treating her like one of them.

  “Too bad she can’t play with the Hawks,” Joelle heard the guy with the glasses say to Hughes as they gathered up bats, ball, and gloves. “We could use a few power hitters.”

  Excellent! Joelle thought. She tossed the glove back to the guy who’d lent it to her. “Maybe you should tell your coach that,” she said with a glance at Ryan. He was busy zipping up his equipment bag.

  “I don’t know,” another boy said as he wiped his forehead on the bottom of his shirt. “It might be kind of weird having a girl on the team. I mean, what about the locker room?”

  Several of the other Hawks snickered and started to pick up their bikes.

  “At my old school, I used the girls’ locker room,” Joelle said, shrugging. “It was no big deal.”

  “Yeah, but there’s a lot of important stuff that goes on in a locker room. Team building stuff,” Hughes said. “You’d miss all that.”

  “Hey, I’ve hung out with guys all my life,” Joelle said. “And I’ve always been a team player.”

  “Well, you can hang with us here,” Hughes said as he swung his leg over the back of his bike. “But at school, forget it, okay?”

  Joelle just sighed. This was totally hopeless.

  “Ready to go, Carlyle?” another boy said over his shoulder.

  “I’m heading the other way today,” Ryan replied. “Go on without me.”

  “Okay.” His friend shrugged. “Later, then.” He pedaled off with the rest of the guys.

  Ryan walked his bike over to Joelle. “So do you live around here?” he asked.

  Joelle blinked in surprise. “I live on Morgan Road.”

  Ryan nodded. “We’re on Hodges.”

  Joelle had no idea where Hodges was. But it must have been near Morgan because Ryan started walking his bike beside her.

  It was kind of strange, really. Joelle tried to seem casual, but she wasn’t sure how to act around Ryan. Was it because Ryan seemed to like her? Or because his dad coached the Hawks?

  Either way, she felt totally nervous.

  Ryan didn’t seem all that comfortable either. So why is he walking with me, then? Joelle wondered.

  When they walked up the hill toward Morgan Road, Ryan said finally, “Just for the record, I think my dad should let you play.”

  “Really?” Joelle glanced sideways at him.

  “I told him I thought so, too.”

  “You did?” That was before he had even seen her play.

  “Yeah. It didn’t do any good, though,” Ryan said, kicking at a stick. “My dad’s kind of …”

  Sexist? Joelle offered silently.

  “I don’t know … kind of set in his ways, I guess,” Ryan went on. “He’s really big on rules, too. But I think that deal about girls playing softball and boys playing baseball is stupid.”

  Joelle raised her eyebrows. “You do?”

  Ryan just nodded.

  Hmm, Joelle thought. Ryan Carlyle isn’t anything like his dad.

  They stopped at the corner. “I go this way now,” Ryan said, pointing toward the other street. He adjusted the visor of his cap and added, “We play ball at the park pretty much every Saturday. You can come next week if you want.”

  “Okay,” Joelle said as Ryan hopped onto his bike and took off. “Thanks.”

  She just might show up.

  Chapter Eight

  Joelle was dreading her clarinet audition during study hall on Tuesday. Chair tryouts included both scales and sight-reading, the same as in Minneapolis.

  She never minded the sight-reading part. It was the scales that always killed her. Probably because she never practiced. “That was fine, Joelle,” Mr. Corcoran said after she played her A-flat scale. “Let’s do the chromatic scale now.”

  Joelle took a big breath, then started to play. The first few notes usually gave her trouble, but today her pinky rolled right over the keys. She continued on up into the middle register, slowing down when she reached the upper range. Her high notes were pretty screechy, but at least she’d hit them. She snuck in another breath, then started back down.

  Mr. Corcoran wrote something on his clipboard. “Okay, good,” he said when she reached the end.

  Good? Joelle wouldn’t have gone that far. But Mr. Corcoran was that kind of teacher. He reminded Joelle of her coach back in Minneapolis. Coach Perry made everyone feel good, whether they were decent players or not.

  “So, now that you’ve been here a couple weeks, how are you settling in at Hoover?” Mr. Corcoran asked as Joelle swabbed out her clarinet.

  “I’m doing fine, thanks,” Joelle told him.

  “It’s tough coming in during the middle of the year,” Mr. Corcoran went on. “But sometimes it helps if you can get involved in extracurricular activities right away.”

  Joelle just nodded as she jammed the clarinet pieces into her case. That was exactly what she was trying to do. Get involved in an extracurricular activity. Baseball.

  “Hey, Joelle.” Ryan came into the band room with the next group of kids as she was going out. “How’d the audition go?”

  “Okay, I guess. I’m not exactly a first-chair player,” she said under her breath.

  Ryan grinned. “Me neither. Hey, are you coming to our game this afternoon?”

  “I thought it was an away game,” Joelle said. Did Ryan want her to go?

  “Well, yeah, but it’s only in Fairmont,” Ryan said. “And those guys aren’t very good. We might actually win.”

  “You think you can beat them on their own field?”

  Ryan shrugged. “Like I said, they aren’t very good.”

  It used to be that Joelle could get Jason to drive her when she wanted to go somewhere. But her brother wasn’t around anymore. And her parents would be at work all afternoon. “Sorry, I don’t think I can,” Joelle said. “I don’t have a ride.”

  Ryan looked disappointed. “Too bad,” he said. “It’ll be sort of weird not having you there.”

  “It will?” Joelle asked.

  “Sure. You’re always up there in the stands, watching, you know? Everybody sees you, but nobody says anything.”

  Joelle wasn’t sure how to answer that.

  “Actually, we’re not supposed to talk about you,” Ryan went on. “My dad says we should just pretend you’re not there.”

  Joelle shifted her books from one arm to the other. So Coach Carlyle had at least noticed her. “Does your dad ever say anything good about me?”

  Ryan thought for a minute. “Well, he did say once that he admired your determination.”

  Joelle felt a tiny stab of hope. That was something, anyway. “But he doesn’t admire my determination enough to let me play.”

  “Not yet,” Ryan admitted as Mr. Corcoran waved him into the band room.

  Not yet? Joelle thought. Maybe there was hope.

  The next morning, Joelle returned from her run to find her dad reading the Gazette at the kitchen table. He looked up with a smile and handed her the folded-back page. “They didn’t change a word you wrote,” he said.

  They’d finally printed her letter! Joelle excitedly scanned the whole thing. “Nope, they didn’t,” she said. Wow. Her words looked important in print. She turned to her dad. “Do yo
u think this will make a difference? Will it help get the district policy changed?”

  “I don’t know,” her dad said as he rinsed his coffee cup in the sink. “If enough people agree with you and they’re vocal about it, maybe.”

  Joelle didn’t see how anyone could not agree with her. It seemed like a sure thing.

  When she got to school, she was surprised to find out that a lot of kids had seen her letter. Or at least they’d heard about it.

  She could almost feel a group of girls staring at her as she spun the combination on her locker.

  “That’s the baseball girl,” one of them said in a low voice. “The one who wrote that letter in the paper.”

  Joelle couldn’t tell whether the girl had liked her letter or hated it.

  “Can you believe she sits in the bleachers and watches the baseball team practice every single day?” another girl said.

  “I know!” said a third. “She’s so weird!”

  Joelle’s cheeks burned. I am not, she thought as she buried her head in her locker and gathered the books she needed for the morning. I just want to play baseball. What’s so weird about that?

  Kailey, the girl who sat next to her in band, peered around Joelle’s locker door. “Hey,” she said. “That was an awesome letter you wrote to the Gazette. I’m impressed.”

  Joelle breathed a sigh of relief. At least somebody thought it was okay.

  “You really should join the Echo, Joelle,” Kailey added. “We don’t have that many good writers. You could write sports articles, features, whatever you want. What do you say?”

  Joelle closed her locker. “Thanks a lot, Kailey, but I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” Kailey fell into step beside her. “You’re a great writer. And we have tons of fun. Sometimes the whole staff stays late on Friday nights to put the paper to bed. We order pizza and hang out. It’s—”

  “Kailey?” Joelle smiled and put up a hand. “I’m sorry, I really am, but I’m just not interested right now.”

  “Joelle?” a boy behind her said.

  She turned to see Ryan standing near another group of lockers. He was scratching his ear, looking nervous. “Uh, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked.