Page 62 of Fastball Fever
I shut off the water and towel myself dry, struggling to silence the noise in my head.As I'm getting dressed, I hear a notification sound, indicating a text—from Amy, no doubt.
All set.Equipment room ready.Dinner?
I text back:Starving.Where are we going?
Ten minutes later, we're at a small diner three blocks from the stadium.It's a team favorite, but at this hour, it's nearly empty.Perfect for us to talk without being overheard.Amy sits across from me, nursing a cup of black coffee while I nibble on a meat pie.Neither of us has much of an appetite, but we need to keep our strength up.I gently pester Amy until she finally orders a pastry.Well, that's better than nothing.
"Do you think he'll make his move tonight?"I ask between bites.
She taps her fingernails on her mug, a nervous habit I've noticed before games."If the pattern holds, yes.They've been drugging our team before home games against the Altitude.Tomorrow's match is too important for him to pass up."
"Oh, I can't wait to see his face when we nail him."The thought of Jared finally getting what's coming to him makes the food taste better.
Amy slants toward me, her voice low."Remember, we need solid evidence.Video of him applying the THC oil to the bats.Circumstantial stuff won't do."
"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill."I twirl spaghetti around my fork, strictly for something to do."I can't stop thinking about what will happen after we catch him.This could blow up into a massive scandal."I set my fork down, suddenly less hungry."The league will investigate.There could be hearings, suspensions."
"One step at a time," Amy says, reaching across the table to touch my hand briefly."First, we get the evidence.Then, we worry about the fallout."
Her phone buzzes on the table.We both freeze and stare at the thing like it might explode.
She flips it over, reads the screen, and then looks up at me."It's Phil.Just checking in.Nothing happening yet."
I exhale slowly."This waiting is killing me."
"Welcome to my world as a coach," she says with a tight smile."Ninety percent preparation, ten percent real action."
We finish our meal in anxious silence, both checking our phones every few minutes for updates.I've never felt time crawl by so slowly.Every person who walks into the diner makes me jump, as if I'm half-expecting Jared to stroll in and catch us plotting against him.
Finally, Amy pays the bill despite my protests, and we head back toward the stadium.The night air has cooled, stars emerging overhead as we walk side by side, our fingers loosely twined.We're a block from the stadium when both our phones buzz simultaneously.My heart hammers as I fumble to check the message from Phil.
Movement in equipment room.Two figures.Get here now.
Amy and I stare at each other for a split second before breaking into a sprint.We're sprinting toward the stadium.My heart pounds against my ribcage, adrenaline flooding my system like I'm up to bat in the bottom of the ninth.We dash through the players' entrance, our footsteps echoing down the empty corridors.
"Wait," Amy hisses, grabbing my arm as we near the equipment room."We can't just burst in.We need to be stealthy, like undercover agents for the MLB."
"MIB sounds more like it."
Amy gives me the cutest look of confusion."M what B?"
"Haven't you ever heard of Men in Black?It was a movie but also a real-life phenomenon involved with UFOs and other weird stuff.MIB is the nickname."
She lifts one brow, also twisting her lips upward too."I had no idea I was engaged to a conspiracy theorist."
I chuckle."Gonna dump me now, Coach?"
"Oh, no.You aren't getting away from me that easily."
"Well, you have your quirks too.There's your 'always flush three times' bathroom policy, for instance."
Amy rolls her eyes."Silence, please."
She's right.If we spook Jared now, he might destroy evidence or come up with some plausible excuse.
"Let's check the feed first," I suggest, pulling out my phone.
The video is crystal clear.Jared and his coconspirator are in the equipment room.I can't see the other person well enough to be sure.They're hunched over our bats, applying something with a small brush.The sight makes my clench my fists hard enough that it hurts.
