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you.”
    “You can.”
    “I wouldn't. That's not it at all.”
    “So go do it,” she said, her eyes wide, her smile full of something I couldn't put my finger on. Maybe sympathy? I wasn't sure. “Let's see what happens. We'll deal with whatever happens afterward. When it's time to deal with it. But West?”
    I looked at her.
    “I'm not going anywhere,” she said. “I swear. Nowhere. I don't care if you have to go play on the moon. I would find a way to get to you.”
    I laughed softly, folded my fingers into hers. “It's impossible to play baseball on the moon.”
    She smiled at me, raised up on her toes and kissed me. “But not in Arizona. You can play baseball in Arizona. Today.”
    It was amazing how quickly a kiss from her could set me at ease. I'd never experienced that before, not with anyone else. It was like there was magic dust on her lips that instantly calmed me down.
    “I've never thought about my future before,” I said. “I've never given it a thought. But now? When I think about what I'll be doing in a year or in five years? It always involves you. And I don't want to screw that up. With anything.”
    She smiled. “Don't worry about things you don't have to worry about yet. We'll figure it out. I promise.”
    I nodded, let out a deep breath. “Alright. We should head back inside.”
    “Why?”
    “So I can see what kind of crappy gear I'm gonna have to use today.”

EIGHT
     
     
     
    The glove fit my hand decently and the bat was exactly the size and weight I used. Turned out that her dad gave her some info on what to look for before she and her mom left the casita. He'd guessed pretty well. The cleats were fine for a tryout and the pants fit the way they should've. As I dressed, though, it felt like I was getting dressed for my first game. It was a strange feeling that I couldn't exactly describe, other than that I felt awkward, like one of those actors who play a baseball player in a movie but you can immediately tell that they've never held a bat or thrown a ball in their life.
    Abby's dad drove and she rode up front with him. I was stretched out in the back of the SUV. Her mom elected to stay behind, wishing me good luck, still wearing an expression that seemed to say she was worried that her father and daughter were pushing me into doing something I wasn't sure that I wanted to do. I may not have been sure that I wanted to do it, but they hadn't talked me into it. If I really hadn't wanted to go, I would've put up a bigger fight. Abby, like always, seemed to know me better than I knew myself. She knew I'd go before I knew I'd go.
    I stared out the window as we approached the city. The entire city of Tucson had the feel of a much smaller college town. Every store and every business seemed adorned with the University of Arizona colors and logos. Bike racks were everywhere. And every road seemed to lead toward the sprawling university campus. The massive football stadium was visible from nearly everywhere and grew larger as we got closer to the school.
    The tryout was at Hi-Corbett field, the old minor league stadium that the university had recently taken over and renovated for their baseball program. The Padres minor league affiliate played at a smaller, older stadium on the other side of town that apparently wasn't even sufficient enough to hold a tryout at. Mr. Sellers followed the signs toward the stadium and the butterflies in my gut suddenly turned into small pigeons.
    He pulled the SUV into an already crowded parking lot adjacent to the field and cut the engine. He twisted around in his seat. “You alright?”
    “I'm alright, yeah.”
    Abby turned around, too. “You want us to watch? Or come back and pick you up?”
    “No. Stay.”
    Her father looked relieved.
    We got out of the car. Steel spikes clicked against the asphalt as other guys walked past in the lot, headed toward the field, bags slung over their shoulders, caps pulled tight on their heads, serious expressions on their