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“Innovative minds”?

Ms. Sparrow put her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll make sure they both get the forms turned in on time, Morgan.”

“We will!” Lauryn blurted before Ms. Adams and Ms. Sparrow left hand in hand a moment later.

Did that really just happen?

Mom hurried up to us with tearstained cheeks, looking as giddy as I felt. “Eliza, that was incredible. You have a real talent for setting the mood. I mean, my God, with the wedding, Mercutio’s death, and that final silhouette before the blackout…I think I held my breath the entire time.”

I hugged her tightly. “Same. I’m still struggling to catch my breath.”

“You’re going to struggle a bit longer, then,” Lauryn chimed in. She held out her phone, which was open to the Crowley Park Facebook page.

The Fulton Hawks were up 5–4 with one inning left to play.

Holy crap.

Reed was doing it. He finally found his rhythm.

Pride, and something much stronger that I hadn’t found the courage to admit to myself yet, bloomed in my heart, daring me to take a chance.

“I gotta go.” I grabbed my keys and wallet from between the sound and light boards.

“Now?” Mom asked. “Why?”

“Because sometimes you just have to leap first and think later, right?”

She grinned and took my keys. “I’ll drive.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Reed

“Follow your heart, kid, and you’ll never go wrong.”

—Babe Ruth, The Sandlot

Dad would’ve loved to see this game. To watch me finally settle into myself and just play the game I loved. My two-seamer finally sank the way I had always wanted it to. Its speed never slowed. And the Crowley Cardinals couldn’t touch it.

Our guys were hyped to take the plate in the bottom of the eighth, and they showed it. After two back-to-back singles, the crowd started chanting, “Rally! Rally!” But in the end, we couldn’t follow through. Our third batter was caught looking, and our fourth tried to bunt but mishit. He practically rolled it directly toward third and gave the Cardinals an easy double play.

By the top of the ninth, we still held them with a narrow lead of 5–4. Before we took the field, Coach Monaco called us into a huddle inside the dugout.

“I need you boys to take a second and look around.” Coach Monaco took off his hat and leaned forward on his knee.

I glanced at the guys standing with me and swallowed over the sharp ache in my throat. Ben should be here. We should’ve had one more game together. But I still had these guys. My brothers from back home, who gave up their summer to follow me to Fairfield. Who agreed to play for my family, knowing how much was on the line for us. I doubted I’d ever have the right words to truly thank them.

“No one thought we’d make it this far,” Coach added. “Especially not that team over there.” He pointed to the Crowley dugout, where they were huddled up as well.

“But we did. We’re here. And it’s because every single one of you played with your heart.” He stood up straighter. “I need you to remember this moment. Remember how you feel when you take that field under those lights. Because in the end, it doesn’t matter how good you are. That doesn’t win championships.”

He paused and tapped the spot of chest over his heart. “This does.”

Everyone nodded. Our quiet dugout now hummed with energy.

Coach Monaco moved off the stairs and motioned to the field. “Now get out there and finish this.”

The crowd cheered as we entered the field. The Cardinals followed a second later.