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wiggled down into his shoes, ready to blast the next one.
    Price licked his lips, wound up, and threw.
    Right down the middle.
    Josh reared back ready to uncork everything he had.
    At the last second, the ball curved down and out. Joey swung and missed. The ball slapped the catcher’s mitt, and the catcher jumped up out of his stance with a hoot. Price grinned and headed for the dugout. Joey ground his teeth until they hurt.
    The defensive battle continued, and while there were plenty of hits, no runs scored. Zach slung fastballs all over the place, tempting the top of the Pirates lineup to swing, but not giving anyone a clean shot so that the Blue Jays infield could do its thing. Joey was proud of his sure-handed glove on first, even though he didn’t have to do anything spectacular. When Barrett caught an easy pop fly, he held the ball up like he’d won the World Series. Joey wanted to puke.
    Price continued to fade on the mound—while no one could hit his curveball, his pitches ran wild in spurts and he gave up a handful of walks. Going into the last inning, Joey wondered if they’d pull him from the mound, even though his team was up 2–0.
    The sixth inning brought the Blue Jays back again to the tail end of their lineup. Price struck out the first batter, but walked the last man on the roster, bringing Zach to the plate with a runner on. Before heading to the plate, Zach left the on-deck circle and put a hand on Joey’s shoulder, pulling him close to say something private.
    â€œI’m not sure, but I’ve been watching Price. I think he licks his lips when he’s going to throw the curve.”
    Joey gave Zach a puzzled look, trying to remember.
    â€œIt’s not one hundred percent. I’m going to keep watching, but if I get on and you get up, I’ll give you a thumbs-up if you can count on it, okay?”
    Joey looked into Zach’s dark eyes and returned the smile. “You’re the best, bro.”
    â€œ V for victory.” Zach showed him the V and walked away.
    At the plate, Zach swung his bat in a one-handed arc, like a drum major might handle his baton. He stepped into the box and grinned at Price. Joey didn’t see the pitcher lick his lips, but he was looking. The pitch came. Easy as pie, Zach drilled a line drive over the second baseman’s head and ended up on second with the other runner at third.
    The next batter struck out, swinging and missing as Price threw one curveball after another. The pitcher did lick his lips, but Joey had no idea if it was because his mouth was dry or it meant a curve. He looked at Zach, but his friend gave no thumbs-up. The third batter in the lineup, Butch Barrett, stepped into the box. Price threw curves, many of them into the dirt. Butch swung at a couple, nicking foul balls. With a 3–2 count, Price didn’t lick his lips.
    The pitcher threw a fastball too high to even think about swinging at and Butch walked to first.
    Bases loaded. Two outs.
    From second base, Zach gave Joey a thumbs-up, confirmation that Price would give away a curve.
    With the championship and a certain spot with the all-stars on the line, Joey stepped up to the plate.

15
    Joey liked to read books with happy endings because that’s how he thought life should be, a happy ending. His own life, though, seemed to veer off the road at regular intervals. When bad things happened—like the time he got his hand stuck in a soda machine and they missed their flight and had to cancel their whole vacation to Disney World—Joey could almost taste it coming.
    He knew from reading words of wisdom written in books about baseball greats like A-Rod and Nolan Ryan that the formula for success always included positive thinking. Still, as he stepped up to the plate, he couldn’t shake that taste he got in his mouth, the sharp, metallic bitterness of something ready to go wrong. While most people would write an imaginary scene for themselves