And Don't Bring Jeremy Read Online Free PDF Page B

job. But I wasn’t finished talking about Eddie.
    “Do you hate Eddie, too?” I asked.
    “I don’t hate him,” Danny said, still concentrating on what he was doing, “and neither does Mark. We just know enough to keep out of his way.”
    I thought a bit. “Boy, am I dumb. I thought you and Mark were good friends with Eddie. Like that time we all went to Gino’s for pizza before the game.”
    Danny chuckled. “Eddie said the whole team would be coming, and he especially mentioned you, so I said why not, since I wanted to talk to you about the sets anyway.”
    “That’s funny,” I said. “He couldn’t have known that I’d be going when he told you that. But I’m glad we got together, even though we could have talked in school.”
    We both laughed at that one and I felt a little better. It still bothered me that Mark and Danny didn’t really like Eddie, but it was a relief to know that he insulted other people—not just Jeremy and me. And I felt closer to Danny because he considered me his friend and didn’t want to see me hurt. Not that I could understand why Eddie should be jealous of anyone.
    I was very excited about our next baseball game because Dad didn’t have to work that Saturday and was able to come and watch me play. We drove over to the field, just the two of us. Jeremy refused to go, so Mom gave in and took him for sneakers. The entire team got there early and we had a real good warm-up. As usual, we all took turns hitting and fielding, then Eddie, Jeff, and I took turns pitching to Richie and Mark, our back-up catcher. Right before game time, Mr. Gordon gave us a pep talk. He reminded us of how well we’d played the week before. Then he held up his clipboard and read out our starting positions.
    “Adam, go to the mound. You’re starting pitcher today. Eddie, play first base. Mark—”
    “But, Dad,” Eddie broke in, “I’m—”
    “Go cover first base!” his father ordered.
    “It isn’t fair! I’m better—”
    “Young man,” Mr. Gordon bellowed, “if you want to play in this game, you better get your tail over to first base right now !”
    Eddie shuffled over to first base and I stepped up to the pitcher’s mound, a little less joyous than I’d been a minute ago. Sure, it was exciting to be starting pitcher for the day, but not at the cost of having Eddie mad at me.
    Richie took his place behind the plate and I threw a few practice pitches. My arm felt good. The ball was going right where I wanted it to go. The first batter stepped up to the plate. I forgot about Eddie. I forgot that Dad was watching me pitch for the first time this season. I concentrated on every ball I threw.
    My first pitch was a strike, which I took to be a good sign. The count went 1 and 2 and then the first batter struck out. An even better sign. The next kid up was Jimmy Layton, a sixth grader from my school who was good at all sports. He foul-tipped the first two pitches, let a high ball go by, then hit a line drive past Danny on third base. I turned in time to watch Jeff field it and throw the ball to Mark on second base. Mark ran toward Jimmy, who was trying to double back to first, and tagged him out. It was a great play and our team started clapping. Then I managed to strike out the next batter and all the parents on our side burst into applause. I couldn’t stop grinning. I felt great and I didn’t care who knew it.
    The rest of our team must have been feeling pretty good, too. Eddie and Richie each singled and then Mark hit a triple, sending both of them home. We all roared and cheered. Anyone would have thought we’d won the game, the way we carried on. All of the commotion must have brought the other team to their senses, because the coach put in a new pitcher and everything changed. Jeff struck out, Danny walked, one of the fifth graders hit a pop-up that the shortstop caught, and I struck out, ending the inning and leaving Mark on third base and Danny on first. We were ahead 2–0, but I