Read Online Center Field by Robert Lipsyte - Free Book Online Page B

baller.
    Probably be a day or two at least before there would be any answer, he thought. If ever. Next game is Tuesday. Hope I hear something before then.
    He wandered downstairs. Friday night was a big night at the old store. Mom and Dad would be there, one or both of them rushing back and forth to the new store as problems cropped up. Their opening day was coming soon. He knew they would like him to get involved in the business. That pressure was only going to get worse, he thought. Scotty was serious about graduate school and a career in music, noway he was going to let them drag him into the business. And Tiffany had always had enough trouble taking care of herself. With a kid now…
    The cell was beeping. Texts from Lori and Ryan. He ignored them. See ya tomorrow, leave me alone.
    He thought about Vicodin and Captain Morgan, maybe just a beer, but ended up with milk and a chunk of the chocolate cake Mom had left with his dinner. Tomorrow was an early call. In some weird way he was looking forward to the Cyber Club. Kat.
    He climbed back upstairs, careful on the ankle, barely avoiding the cat crouched on a step hoping to trip him. He was tired and would have settled for a CSI he had only seen two or three times, even an NCIS , which was too jokey, but the Billyblog was blinking and beeping with an alert. MESSAGE FROM BILLY !
    And there it was. I don’t believe in slumps, Mike, and neither should you. We all have good days and bad days. The trouble is, when you get down on yourself during a bad day, it doesn’t go away. Start thinking about the good days you’ve had, days when the baseball looked big as a beach ball coming out of the pitcher’s hand and you were all over it. Think about days when you wanted every ball hit to you and you sucked them up like a vacuum cleaner. Visualize those days and they will come back. Good luck, Billy.
    He felt short of breath. Sounded just like Billy, positive and constructive. He could imagine Billy’s voice, deep and friendly, giving him the advice. He imagined Billy sitting in front of his locker, typing on a laptop balanced on his knees. That was silly. Billy’s game was rained out, too—he wouldn’t even be at the stadium. At home, maybe, with the model.

FIFTEEN
    Zack and Kat were already inside the basement room, unhooking computers, when he walked in. She was wearing a varsity track warm-up suit in the blue and gold Ridgedale colors, but the letters spelling out Rangers across the front seemed to have been torn off. Weird, thought Mike.
    â€œDidn’t think you’d show,” said Zack. He looked sorry to see Mike.
    â€œWe had a bet,” said Kat. She looked glad. “I won.”
    â€œWhy’d you bet on me?”
    He was surprised to see her blush. The question had knocked her back. What happened to cool Kat? It took the Tigerbitch a moment to get her claws out. “I figured you’d do anything not to play baseball, the way you’re hitting.”
    Somehow the dig pleased him. He’d gotten to her and she needed to snap back.
    â€œLet’s get to work,” said Zack.
    Â 
    When the shapeless old woman in the backward Yankees cap lurched into the senior center behind her walker, she yelled, “Where’s my dumb jock bodyguard?”
    An old man whispered to Mike, “She’s been talking about you all week.”
    â€œI heard that,” she said. “I like big bad boys. C’mere.”
    Kat was trying not to laugh. Mike walked over. The old lady looked like one of the mythical beasts they’d read about in Freshman English. Harpies? Gargoyles?
    â€œWhat’s your name, hunk?”
    â€œMike Semak.”
    â€œWhat’s your sport?”
    â€œBaseball.”
    Her eyes opened wide, a surprisingly sweet blue in that pleated, painted face. “Let me guess. You’re an outfielder.”
    â€œCenter field.”
    â€œMy favorite position,” she said. “Okay,