by Kelly Oram
There’s more clapping and cheering, and this time it’s all for me. My cheeks turn bright red as Reynolds shouts, “We love you, Hastings!”
Dad’s grin only gets bigger. Once the crowd is quiet again, he says, “I still wear my first championship ring that I earned in college. It has a special place in my heart. You guys accomplished something huge today, and I thought you should all have your own rings to remember this win.”
The guys all murmur as a few of the hired help come up to the front, carrying trays with little velvet jewelry boxes on them. “And I was so sure you guys would win the title today that I had the rings made up weeks ago so they’d be ready for you today. So thanks for winning, otherwise this would be really awkward.”
Everyone laughs, and Dad gestures for us all to join him. “Come on up and get your rings. I talked to parents about sizes, so you should be good to go.”
We all come up, and Dad is holding my championship ring. “Thanks, Dad.”
He squeezes me and plops a kiss on the top of my head. “I’m proud of you, slugger.”
Once we all have our rings, the whole team gets a standing ovation. After that, we head back to our seats and Coach takes over at the mic again. He’s holding a nice plaque in his hands. “Now, we have a few last awards we’d like to give out. If you could come up when your names are called and stay up here until I’m done…” he prompts.
The Scholar Athlete award goes to Springer since he managed a 4.2 GPA. No one is surprised. What Springer lacks in athletic ability, he makes up for in brains. The Mr. Congeniality Award goes to none other than Reynolds. I’m pretty sure Coach made that award up this year specifically for him because he’s such a goofball and everyone loves him that much.
“This year’s Outstanding Athlete, chosen by myself and the rest of the athletic department goes to…Eric Sullivan!”
No one seems surprised by this, either. Eric, always a little closed off, reluctantly goes up to accept his plaque. He stands next to Reynolds, who gives him a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek. The audience laughs, but really, Reynolds is lucky he didn’t get punched. I laugh at the mixture of annoyance and chagrin on Eric’s face.
“So, Eric…” Coach asks him the same question he’s asked all the guys. “Do you know your plans for next year?”
Eric’s cheeks turn a light pink. “It all depends on the draft, Coach. I’ll play for whatever team wants me, and if something happens and I don’t make the cut, or I go too low in the draft, I’m prepared to accept a spot with Penn State so I can stay closer to home.”
His eyes flick to me, and he gives me a small smile. I wink at him, and he blushes again. I love that I’m his backup plan. We both already decided that if it doesn’t work out for either of us, my father’s Alma mater was our second choice so we could stay together.
Coach claps him on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem in the draft. Any team would be lucky to have you.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
Coach reaches behind him and grabs another plaque. “Now, this next award is the Coach’s Choice. This was a hard decision for me, as this year I had such an incredibly dedicated and talented team to choose from, but in the end there has been one player who has gone above and beyond and held this team together. No one I’ve coached has ever been more dedicated to his team than this outstanding young man. This year’s Coach’s Choice award goes to Jace King!”
Jace seems shocked, though I have no idea why. He really is all that Coach said and then some. Just look at what he did for me this year. He’s like that with every single member of our team. He blinks at me, and I grin and pull him to me for a big kiss. The team jeers and then goes nuts with the cheering as Jace makes his way to the front. I whistle and cheer like a maniac. I’m so proud of him.
After Coach hands him his plaque and shakes his hand, Jace’s smile becomes a little forced. My heart sinks for him, because I know that Coach is going to ask him the same question he’s asked everyone, and I know Jace was hoping for a good answer, but he just doesn’t have one.
Coach pulls Jace close beside him and throws his arm over Jace’s shoulder. “Now I know we’ve all been holding our breaths this season, waiting and wondering where you were going to play next year, and well, I think it’s time we learn the answer to that. Jace…there are a couple people here who would like to talk to you.”
Jace’s eyes snap wide as a man in a UNC polo and another in a Penn State shirt come up to the podium. The first man puffs out his chest and smiles wide. “Jace, I’ve seen all I need to see, and I would like to offer you a full-ride scholarship to come play for UNC in the fall.”
I gasp—along with everyone else present—and Leila squeals with excitement. Jace is stunned speechless. But it doesn’t matter that he can’t talk, because before he has the chance, the other man steps forward and says, “It seems like you’ll have a decision to make then, son, because Penn State is also prepared to offer you a full ride to play for us.”
I join Leila in the squealing and run up to tackle hug the crap out of my boyfriend. He has no choice but to catch me, and I’m pretty sure he would fall over if he didn’t have me holding him up. “Congratulations, Jace! I knew you could do it!”
I plaster a kiss so big on his lips that my dad shouts out a horrified “Charlie!”
I pull back and give my father a sheepish shrug. “Sorry, Dad. I couldn’t help it.”
I start to head back to the table, but Coach stops me. “Hang on just a minute, Charlie. Don’t go anywhere.”
I look back at Coach curiously. He waves me to his side. Jace moves over so I can stand next to him, and Coach puts his arm over my shoulders. Jace stands on my other side and laces our fingers together. He’s still shaking from the shock of having not one, but two scholarship offers.
“We have one last award to give out this year,” Coach says. “This award was voted on by all of your teammates, and they have all agreed that you were the heart and soul of this year’s roster.” I swallow hard. There’s only one award that is voted on by the team. I voted for Jace. I can’t believe the majority of the team voted for me.
Coach holds up a pretty plaque with my name on it. “For the first time ever, every single member of the team unanimously selected a single player to be this year’s MVP. Charlie, honey, there was only one vote that didn’t have your name on it, and I believe it was yours.” Everyone laughs except me. I’m still too touched that my team voted me MVP. “Congratulations, Charlie.”
We wait out the cheers, and my smile becomes as strained as Jace’s was because I know what’s coming, and I’m as bummed out as Jace was. Only, I know there’s no surprise offers coming my way. At least I have a backup, though, and if I officially choose Penn State, then maybe Jace will choose them, too, and we can be together next year. My baseball career may be over, but life could be worse.
“All right, Charlie. Want to let us in on your plans for next year?”
I force a smile onto my face, and Jace squeezes my hands. “Well, I’m still praying for a miracle, and hopefully I can find someone to take me next year—I’d play for anyone Division 1 or junior college; I don’t even care if it means I can play. But, since that is unlikely, my backup plan is to go to Penn State and major in sports medicine, emphasis on athletic training. And then, when I graduate, I fully intend to stalk the Pirates’ organization until they take me on.”
I give the few Pittsburgh bigwigs present pointed looks, and everyone laughs again. My dad’s boss calls out, “We’re only waiting for you to graduate, Charlie. You know you’ll have a place with us.”
I flash him a wide grin and have to swallow down a lump of emotion. Yeah, life could definitely be worse.
Coach acknowledges all of us still standing up front one more time, and then dessert is brought out. After that, people scatter to enjoy the various activities. Believe it or not, half the pro ball players present head straight for the water guns. Boys will always be boys, I guess.
I hang back with my dad and make the rounds to thank people for coming and accept congratulations on a great season. Jace stays with me the whole time, accepting the salutations with me. Eventually, we meet the head coach from Penn State. Jace is a little awestruck and thanks the man profusely for the offer. “Does that mean you’ll be accepting it?” the man asks.
“Oh. Um. Well. I uh…” Jace is really adorable when he’s tongue-tied. “I don’t know yet,” he finally spits out. “I want to talk it over with my parents and Coach Stanton first, but I have to admit knowing Charlie will probably be there in the fall really helps tip the scales in favor of Penn State.”
The coach eyes me with a total thinking face, like he’s considering something really hard. I don’t understand what that’s about. He narrows his eyes and folds his arms, then says, “Well, perhaps I should sweeten the deal a little.”
Both Jace and I stiffen. “What do you mean?” he asks the coach carefully.
The man eyes me some more. “You’re an impressive ball player,” he tells me. “Your stats speak for themselves, and after seeing you in action, I can admit the hype around you is justified. If you were a boy, I’d be begging you to play for me. But you’re not,” Coach says bluntly. “And that complicates things.”
I stop breathing. Why is he telling me this? Why bring it up just to tell me no? What’s the point?
He goes on, either oblivious to my inner turmoil or indifferent to it. “Thing is, I’m hard up for a good catcher. Both of my starters graduate this year, and I only have one guy to replace them.”
Yeah. Still not breathing. He can’t be saying what it sounds like he’s saying. There’s no way he’s going to ask me to play for him.
I get another appraising look, and then, as if he’s just making the decision on the spot, the head coach of Penn State baseball says, “Here’s the deal. I want you to join my team for the summer league.”
A startled squeak sneaks its way out of my throat. My eyes grow so wide they hurt. I feel like I should say something, but I can’t. I’m afraid to even blink right now for fear I could jinx myself. Dad seems just as shocked as me. His arm comes around my shoulder, and he pulls me tightly against his side. I’m sure it’s as much for his support as it is mine.
The coach continues his speech as if he rehearsed it ahead of time. “I know that’s usually reserved for guys who have played at least one year of collegiate ball, but I’ve spoken to the league officials, and I’ve gotten permission to add you to my roster for the summer.”
“Take a breath, Charlie,” Jace murmurs.
I suck air into my lungs and start to shake.
“Consider it a long tryout. I want to see how you’d mix with my other players before I make any commitments.”
I blink a few times. Is this really happening? This can’t be happening. This is totally happening!
“I need to know if you’ll be too much of a distraction or if my guys can accept a woman on their team. I can’t risk my season just to let you play, no matter how talented you are.”
I unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth and somehow find my voice. “I understand, Coach. I know I’m a risk, but I’ll do whatever it takes. I want this. More than anything. I’ll work for it every day. Even if I never start.”
Jace squeezes my hand. “She’ll earn their respect, Coach,” he says. “I have no doubt.”
Coach considers Jace’s declaration and nods slowly. “I also have to consider the reaction of the other teams in the league and the guaranteed media circus taking you on would create.”
Again, Jace speaks up for me. “That usually works in her favor, Coach.”
Coach looks to him for an explanation, but it’s me who answers. “People underestimate me. Always.”
“They don’t take her seriously, and then she shuts them up real fast,” Dad says, finally joining the conversation. “Half the time, they don’t even know what happened until it’s too late.”
I glance his way, and his eyes look as feverish as mine. His smile is the biggest I’ve ever seen it.
“There’s no guarantee,” Coach says, a hint of warning in his voice. “I can’t make any promises.”
“I’ll convince you,” I say with a conviction that has his eyebrows riding up on his forehead. He looks impressed with my confidence, and it’s not a façade. I’m determined now. This tiny nugget of hope has already lit a fire in me. There’s no way I’m playing the summer league just to be let go. No way. Not happening. I will do whatever I have to.
“And I can’t offer any scholarship money,” Coach continues. “That has to go to guys I know are going to play.”
“Not a problem,” Dad says. “We can pay her tuition and any team expenses.”
Coach nods as if he expected that answer. “Then we’ll see you in a few weeks at camp, and if it works out well, we may just have a spot for you on the fall roster.”
Finally, I manage to smile, and once I do, there’s no getting rid of it. Pretty sure I’m going to be smiling so long my face is going to freeze this way. I’ve just been offered a chance at college ball! COLLEGIATE BASEBALL! To a Division 1 school, no less. My number-one choice. My Dad’s Alma mater.
Dad gives me a side hug so hard my ribs hurt, but I don’t even care. I could die right now. I finally lose all composure and tackle hug my father, squealing like a five-year-old on a sugar rush. My eyes gloss over with happy tears. As I wipe them away, I turn back to my new coach. For the first time since I met him, he’s wearing a small grin. “Thank you so much, Coach. I promise you won’t regret it.”
I turn to Jace next and jump into his arms. He catches me and twirls me around. “I knew you could do it.”
“You too, Mr. Full Ride.”
Jace grins and gives me a sweet kiss. “Looks like I know what school I’ll be going to in the fall.”
“Oh! Me too! Me too!” Leila squeals, jumping into the conversation with as much bubbly energy as she tackles everything in life.
“What?” I ask, needing her to calm down enough to focus.
She bites her lips as she bounces on her toes. Then she squeaks.
“Leila,” I press at the same time Jace scolds, “Leelee.”
“Sorry!” she blurts. “I’m just so excited! I found out yesterday that my financial aid was approved. I’m going to Penn State, too!” She grabs my hands and starts bouncing up and down again. “I’ve been dying to tell you. We can be roomies!”
I know I should totally keep my composure in front of my old coach, and my team, and my future coach, and all the pro baseball players, and who knows who else. But I totally don’t. I grab Leila in a fierce hug and start bouncing up and down and squealing with her. We don’t stop until a hand literally pulls me away from Leila.
I turn to find Eric waiting with open arms. Again, I should really play it cool. But I can’t. I jump at him so hard he nearly falls backward, but he catches me and even laughs. “You sound like a dying pig with that squeal,” he teases.
The taunt makes me giggle, and Eric steals a move out of Jace’s playbook and does the infamous and adorable headshake/chuckle. “Charlie Hastings, you are such a girl.”
I give him my best Cheshire grin. “Yeah, I am. And proud of it.”
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Thanks so much for reading! Word-of-mouth is crucial for any author to succeed. If you enjoyed the book, please leave a review online. Even if it’s just a sentence or two, it would make all the difference and would be very much appreciated!
Thanks!
Kelly
Want to read more about the Roosevelt High Ravens? Check out One of the Girls by Robin Daniels and get the story behind Nick Moody, the guy who quit the football team to become the first male cheerleader in Rosevelt High’s history.
Kelly Oram wrote her first novel at age fifteen–a fan fiction about her favorite music group, The Backstreet Boys, for which family and friends still tease her. She’s obsessed with reading, talks way too much, and loves to eat fro
sting by the spoonful. She lives outside of Phoenix, Arizona with her husband and four children. Connect with Kelly through social media: Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Blog.
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