“What?” I asked as I raised my eyebrows. “A dumb jock and a girl can’t be smarter than you?”
Chrissy threw her hands up in defeat. I assumed she had been trying to talk him off the ledge, and I’d just closed the window behind him.
“You know that’s not true. I’m way smarter than the both of you.”
I looked sad as I shook my head at him.
“Sorry, buddy, I don’t know how to break it to you, but numbers don’t lie.”
“Are you trying to kill him?” Chrissy asked me.
“What he needs is a distraction. If there was only something you could do to relieve his stress and take his focus off Gina and me being smarter …” I pondered.
“Wait a minute. You’re the one who broke him, so you should be the one to fix him,” Chrissy shot back.
I really did like Chrissy. She didn’t take any shit from me, and she liked my awkward genius friend enough to give him hickeys.
“What are you two talking about?” Dare asked.
“I was suggesting …” I began.
“Nothing!” Chrissy said as she grabbed Dare’s arm and began to drag him away.
“But David and Gina have to tank the final to set everything right,” Dare complained.
If the little dumbass only realized that had he not said anything … Now he’d poked my competitive side. I tracked down Gina before class and arranged for us to study after my baseball game tonight. We were both going to ace that final, I’d decided.
I sent a text to Suzanne, my former tutor, with an offer to hire her to help us get ready. Dare was going down.
◊◊◊
They’d reseeded everyone for sectional play, and we weren’t the top seed; we’d ended up second. Lemont had garnered the top spot. Since we were the second seed, we would have all our games at home until the finals. If Lemont fell, we would be the highest seed and play at home for that one, too.
This day’s opponent was the Rockford Christian Royal Lions. We usually played our baseball games right after school, but they’d decided to treat this more like they did football with a six o’clock start time. That gave everyone who worked till five a chance to make it to the game.
The Booster Club was serving the good all-beef hot dogs. We walked over as a team to grab a quick bite before the game. Jeff, my favorite reporter, was waiting for us. The guys bailed on me, not wanting to deal with the press. After I bought a couple of dogs with all the trimmings, I joined Jeff.
“I hear there are going to be several scouts here tonight to see you go up against the kid from Rockford Christian,” Jeff said to kick off his interview.
They had a pitcher who currently was undefeated and sported a gaudy 1.02 ERA. The ERA, or earned run average, was the standard measure used to compare pitchers, and the lower, the better. It was a calculation of earned runs given up by a pitcher over nine innings. As a comparison, Justin, our ace, had an ERA of 2.45.
“We should be okay,” I predicted.
Jeff couldn’t help scoffing at my bold pronouncement.
“What makes you say that?”
“Our hitting has come together at the right time. Even though we’re facing one of the better pitchers in the state, I’m confident we can score against him.”
“If you say so,” Jeff said, not believing me.
“Take it to the bank,” I assured him.
Jeff stopped and looked at me intently.
“You’re not just saying that?”
“No, I’m dead serious. The only way Rockford Christian beats us tonight is if they score a lot of runs. If I were their pitcher, I’d get sick before the game to protect my ERA. Once we’re done today, it won’t be near as good,” I said sincerely.
I realize I sounded like a typical jock who was puffing us up before a big game. But I honestly felt that way because we were ready to make a run. If we didn’t get unlucky, I thought we had a serious chance at winning state this year.
“Predictions?” Jeff asked.
“I’m not sure about the final score, but we’ll put up at least ten runs.”
Jeff shook his head at me.
“If I hadn’t been around you for the last four years, I would call you on this one. I have no doubt you’ll pull it off. Good luck tonight.”
◊◊◊
By the top of the fifth, we had an 11–2 lead. It hadn’t all been their ace pitcher’s fault; he was as good as advertised. He just ran into a team hitting its stride. Our guys battled him until they got something to hit, or he made a mistake and walked them.
Their defense also made some bonehead mistakes which were caused by our aggressiveness on the bases. Coach Haskins’ philosophy of forcing the defense to make plays had paid off. Most teams simply took what you gave them because base runners were considered a premium. That had been Moose’s approach until Coach Haskins converted his thinking.
We, as a team, had come to see the light as well. Base runners left stranded had no value. Yes, we lost a few runners to overaggressiveness, but over time we’d started to learn what we could and couldn’t get away with. Three of our runs in this game could be directly attributed to this philosophy.
Moose grabbed us before we went out for the top of the fifth.
“Keep your heads in the game. We might have a lead, but they didn’t win all those games this year only to give up when they get behind,” he warned.
His warning was prophetic because they scored seven on us. Bert had one of his bad outings, and Moose finally pulled him and had me come in to pitch to shut down their comeback. Neither of us scored again to make the final 11–9.
Four more wins, and we would be state champs.
◊◊◊
After the baseball game, I swung by Gina’s house to help her set up a video chat on her PC. For a girl who was supposed to be smart, I was shocked she didn’t know how to do it. With smartphones and tablets, I thought everyone used the technology.
Gina showed me where they kept the family PC in a spare bedroom.
“Where’s your webcam?” I asked.
Her blank look told me she had no clue. Time for Plan B.
“Give me your phone,” I ordered as I held out my hand.
I took one glance at it and cringed. Honestly, it was little more than a step up from the old phones my parents used to have. If I remember right, they called them ‘flip phones.’
“Will this use much data? My dad gets upset if I go over my limits,” she complained.
“You don’t have unlimited data?” I asked. “Dear lord! Your parents are abusing you. Do you at least have a hot spot?”
“A what?”
I wasn’t in the mood to educate Gina on Technology 101 tonight. I simply needed her to be able to jump onto video chat later for our sessions with Suzanne. She would tutor us in math to help us put Darius in his smarty-pants place. Pulling out my tablet, I opened the settings so Gina could log in.
“See the little lens?” I said, pointing at the camera. “Face that and put your thumb over this.”
Fritz was anal about security, and he’d set us up to all use both facial recognition and our thumbprint to log onto our devices. I would let her use my tablet until I had a chance to get her a webcam for her old-style PC. I figured she would only have my tablet for tonight, so I didn’t bother setting her up with her own user account. It would be easier to just let her log in to mine.
“What are all the little pictures for?”
My grandmother knew more about this stuff than Gina did. I began to wonder if her parents chained her in the basement. I thought everyone our age knew all this.
“They do all kinds of things, like let you watch movies, listen to music, play games, read your email, and this one lets you log onto video chat. Let’s set you up, and then we can call your sister as a test run,” I suggested.
For this, I created her an account so that when I got her a webcam, she would be ready to go.
When I finished, I sent Kara a text to jump onto the video chat. I showed Gina how to touch her sister’s picture so they would be connected. Her look of wonder when she saw Kara on the screen made it worth the hassle.