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next door to your mother. She says everybody was poor but happy.”
    “Well, one good thing. Mom’s laughed more in the past two day than she did in the last six months in Virginia.” His eyes hazed over, and lines creased his brow. “It’s good to see her laugh and have a good time again.”
    “Were things really bad?” She asked the question hesitantly, because she didn’t want it to sound as if she were prying.
    “When Dad and Mom weren’t yelling at each other, Mom was crying. She cried a lot. Dad told me he’d never leave, but he did. People make you believe they care about you, but they lie.”
    Jordan squirmed, thinking of the lies she’d told her friends about her and Ryan. “Maybe they don’t mean to. Maybe it just happens.”
    Ryan scoffed. “A lie’s a lie. It doesn’t matter what you
mean
. It only matters what you
do
.”
    A silence fell between them. Jordan cleared her throat, anxious to change the subject. “Want to head back? We don’t want to miss breakfast, do we?”
    He smiled, brightening the dark mood between them. “I never want to miss breakfast.” He started to jog. “Besides, who would I throw my eggs at?”
    She fell into step next to him. “Yeah . . . who?”
    After their jogging session, Ryan kept to himself the rest of the day. Jordan understood. Everyone in her family was a stranger to him, including her. But she wanted to get to know him better. She wanted him to like her home and his new life. And she wanted to help him fit in.
    But there was school on Monday. How would she act when all her friends asked her questions about him? What would she do if Ryan found out about the lies she’d told? Jordan tried not to think about it.
    On Sunday afternoon, Jamey begged Ryan to go to the park with him and help him practice baseball. His Little League games didn’t start until spring, but with their dad away so much, it was a novelty to have an older boy to work with.
    “Basketball’s my game,” Ryan told Jamey after he had pleaded for Ryan to come to the park.
    “Aw, so what? I’ll bet you could pitch really well if you try.”
    Ryan smiled at Jamey. “Can Jordan come, too?” he asked.
    “She’s no good. She couldn’t hit a baseball if it were the size of a blimp.”
    Jordan glared at her brother, but she had to admit that Jamey was right. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m really not much on a baseball diamond.”
    “Come on,” Ryan urged. “Show me.”
    The three of them meandered down to the park. The sun shone, taking the November chill out of the afternoon. Jordan stepped up to home plate, gripping the bat for dear life. “I don’t mind catching in the outfield,” she told Ryan nervously. “Why don’t you let Jamey bat first?”
    “Naw. I’ll pitch and Jamey can go to the outfield. I want to see your stuff.”
    Jordan knew that her “stuff” wasn’t much. “Well, all right,” she said. “But promise not to laugh.”
    “My snake can swing better than she can,” Jamey yelled as he walked toward the outfield.
    “Let’s give her a chance,” Ryan said, and Jamey did as he was told. “Take a few swings,” Ryan instructed, heading for the pitcher’s mound.
    He lobbed a ball and Jordan swung wildly in the air. “See what I mean?” she said.
    “Try again.”
    She did, but the ball hit the chain-link fence behind her as her bat took another swipe at the air.
    From the outfield, Jamey shouted, “See what I mean? She’s hopeless!”
    “Cool it, muffin brain!” Jordan yelled.
    “You’ve just never had proper coaching,” Ryan told her, jogging up to the batter’s box. He stood behind her, lifted the bat, and fitted her hands securely on the wooden handle. “Grip it this way. And don’t chop at the ball when it comes over the plate. Swing in one smooth motion.” He helped her swing the bat at the air a few times. Then he called, “Okay, Jamey. Toss us a few.”
    Jamey pitched, and with Ryan directing the bat, Jordan connected with the