"Let's go, Freud!! Knock it outta the park!!" My coach was yelling from the dugout.
"Let's go, Steve!" Spencer, my best friend, shouted from second base. "Bring me home, my man!"
I tuned everything and everyone out and concentrated on the pitcher. It was just me and him. Me, my bat and his pitch. Ninth inning, two out, runners on second and third. Down by two runs. A well placed base hit would get Patrick home. If I could stretch it to a double, Spencer would score but we'd tie the game. I focussed on the pitcher's right hand and watched his wind up. I watched the ball. It was a low outside fastball. I let it go by.
"Ball!" The umpire called. I let out my breath.
The next pitch was a strike. High and inside.
The next pitch was made for me. Fastball, bottom corner but higher than the one I'd let by. I watched that ball the whole way in swung and heard the bat connect. Right in the sweet spot. I ran. If it was caught, I'd hear the call. As I rounded first I heard screaming. My team was coming out of the dugout and gathering at home. The opposing team wasn't even trying to get the ball.
"Number 7, Stephen Freud, hits a three run homer to bring the Tigers a last minute win!" I heard the announcer call. What? I just kept running. My entire team enveloped me as soon as I crossed the plate. They were cheering.
"Tigers win! Tigers win!" The announcer was screaming into the mic.
I looked into the stands. David and Mandy were standing and clapping. David pointed at me and winked. He mouthed 'good job' at me. I grinned. I saw Toby and Erin sitting beside their parents and cheering. My foster siblings. Mandy and David's kids. Trent, my foster brother when I came to stay with the Fosters a year ago, was back home with his mom apparently. For now, it was just me and Mandy and David's kids.
We celebrated on the field with what felt like the whole school joining us. Eventually, we had to leave the field. School rules and permits and stuff. The team headed to the locker room to shower and change.
"Nice hit, Freud!" Kevin, our second baseman said.
"Leave it to Freud to hit the game winner. And a three-run homer yet?" Spencer said, coming up behind me and grabbing my shoulders. "Where have you been hiding that all season?"
"Oh please," I said to Spencer. "Who's literally batting .540?"
"Me, of course. But you? Mr. .520."
Spencer was not the most humble person. But he was my best friend.
I laughed and headed into the showers. I washed quickly, towelled off and went back to my locker with my towel around my waist.
Once I got dressed in my normal jeans and t-shirt, Coach came into the locker room.
"Boys!" He called out. "Great game. Well played. Even if we'd lost, you all put in a great effort this season and this game specifically. Freud, I don't know where you've been hiding that homer but nice job bringing it out today!" The team laughed. Spencer ruffled my wet hair.
"Dude! Leave the locks!" I said, slapping his hand away.
"Ball season's over. You can cut it now," he said, pulling on the bottom of my hair that went just past my shoulders.
"Screw you. I like it."
"Boys, boys, come on. Let's focus. I'm really proud of the season you've all put in. You worked hard and you worked together. It shows. Have a great summer and we'll see you in September. Freud, come see me in my office before you leave."
"Ooooooooh," the team howled. Was I in trouble? How could I be?
I slowly gathered my belongings and made my way to the coach's office.
"You asked to see me, Coach?" I asked. There was some other guy sitting in the office. I'd never seen him before. He wasn't a teacher.
"Steve. Yeah. Come in, close the door and sit down."
Yeah. That didn't make me feel any less concerned.
I sat down and glanced at the stranger in the room.
"Steve, this is Theodore Wallace. He's a scout with UCLA."
I looked at the stranger and then Coach.
"Coach, I'm only a Sophomore," I said.
"Just listen to him, would ya?" He winked at me. I turned my attention to Wallace.
"Steve? May I call you Steve?" I nodded. "I realize you're just a sophomore and college is still two years away for you, but I've watched you play and I've spoken with your coach. You're a very talented baseball player. It's rare to have a pitcher that can hit or a batter who can pitch. It's also rare that that pitcher can switch between first and second as well. You have good ball sense. You have talent, son. So I have a proposal for you."
"You know I'm only fifteen, right? I can't, like, sign a contract or anything."
"I understand. I'll give you all the information to take home. Talk with your parents. But hear me out, first."
"Okay," I said.
"If you keep up this level of play, or if it's even possible, a higher level, I'm pretty confident we could offer you a full ride to UCLA. That's four years, fully paid by the college. I've seen your grades. I'm surprised you haven't been skipped a grade or two."
"I'm in AP classes," I said.
"I know," he smiled. "So, while I can't offer you a full ride today, because you're a sophomore, I want you to consider UCLA as your first choice when you're ready."
"It's a good deal, Freud," Coach said.
Wallace held out a bag with the UCLA logo on it.
"Think about it."
I looked in the bag. There was a UCLA sweatshirt and a folder.
"That folder has all the information on the scholarship options and what we're willing to offer. My business card is in there. I'll be keeping tabs on you, you can be sure if that. The sweatshirt is a gift."
"Uh, thanks," I said. "Coach, I gotta get going."
"Go ahead, Freud. And great game, again."
Mandy and David were waiting with Toby and Erin outside the locker room.
"What happened? What took so long?" David asked. "Spencer said you got called into the coach's office. What happened. You didn't get in a fight did you?"
I showed him the bag.
"UCLA? You're a sophomore," he said.
"I know. He says they might be able to offer me a full ride if I keep playing like I did this season. Or better."
"That's so exciting! Stephen! You should be so proud! Between that and your grades you'll probably have your choice of schools."
"You're not leaving, are you?" Erin asked me, pulling on my t-shirt hem. I handed Mandy the UCLA bag and swung Erin up into my arms.
"I hope not!" I said. "Who'd read me bedtime stories?"
"You read them to me," Erin laughed.
"Oh. Right. I forgot," I said.
"You're silly, Stephen," Erin laughed. Toby started giving a play by play of the game.
We walked home because the school wasn't so far and it was nice out.
"I think we ought to go out for pizza to celebrate your win and your possible scholarship," David said.
"Yeah! Pizza!" Toby and Erin shouted.
We turned onto our street and walked up to the house. Arlene's car was outside.