Since she knew that this wasn’t going to end well, at least, not for her, Mikey cleared her throat and decided to go with a hopeful smile as she grabbed her bag and got to her feet as she said, “I can explain?” while the rest of the class filed out of the room, several of her friends throwing her pitying looks as they went.
“I’m sure you can,” Mr. Rose murmured as he gestured toward the paper covered in red marker. “Did you read the book, Mikey?”
“I don’t think that it would be in my best interest to answer that question,” she said, nodding solemnly.
“Probably not,” Mr. Rose murmured absently as he turned her book report over and skimmed the back before saying, “You didn’t explain how the book ended.”
“I didn’t want to ruin the ending for you,” Mikey said with a sad shake of her head and a heartfelt sigh that had him chuckling.
“That’s very considerate of you,” he drawled.
“I try,” Mikey said, nodding solemnly.
“Can I ask you something?” Mr. Rose asked, leaning back in his chair as he considered her for a moment.
“Just as long as it doesn’t end with a call to my parents,” she said, making his lips twitch.
“Why are you failing my class?”
“Because you don’t accept bribes,” Mikey said, making him chuckle as he pushed his chair back and headed toward the bookshelves overflowing with books that Sebastian would probably kill to get his hands on. He’d probably like this class, Mikey thought absently as she watched Mr. Rose search through the bookshelves.
“I can see how that would be a problem,” Mr. Rose murmured as he paused when he came to a thick black book on the bottom shelf.
“It really is,” Mikey said, nodding solemnly.
Chuckling, he grabbed the black book and tossed it to her as he said, “This should help.”
Frowning, Mikey asked, “Help with what?” as she caught the book.
“You have a choice,” Mr. Rose said as he walked back to his desk and sat back down.
“Which is…” Mikey asked, glancing down at the book in her hand a
nd tried not to wince when she saw the title.
“You’re not going to like it,” Mr. Rose warned her.
“Probably not,” Mikey murmured in agreement.
“Let me ask you something first,” Mr. Rose said, leaning back in his chair as he considered her. “What were you hoping for when you handed in that book report?”
“That it would bring tears of joy to your eyes when you read it,” Mikey said, nodding solemnly.
“It came close,” he said, matching her nod with one of his own before he gestured to the large book in her hand. “When are tryouts?”
“Monday,” Mikey weakly mumbled, not really liking where this was going.
“Baseball is?”
“My life,” Mikey stressed, cutting him off with the hopes that he understood what was at stake here.
All she’d ever wanted to do was play baseball.
That was it.
The first time that she saw a baseball game, she’d fallen head-over-heels in love. It wasn’t long before she’d discovered her love of pitching. She’d treated everything within reach as a baseball and after several unfortunate incidents that had ended with two broken windows, her mother flinching anytime she reached for her sippy cup, and the mailman refusing to deliver their mail if she was home, her mother bought her a toddler-sized baseball glove and a tennis ball.
That had quickly led to her mother banning balls in the house, begging the T-ball coach to let her play even though she’d only been three at the time and her obsession with everything baseball. She played every chance she got, begged everyone that made the mistake of making eye contact with her to play catch, and quickly learned to apologize for any and all unfortunate accidents that happened as a result.