Page 5 of Curveball

A boy raises his hand, and Mrs. Sandwick calls on him. “Yes, Nathaniel.”

“It’s on top, right?”

The class laughs, and Mrs. Stanwick smiles. “Yes, it’s north of the US. It’s a different country.”

He turns to me and asks, “Do you speak English?”

I nod. “Yes. A little French too, but mostly English.”

Mrs. Stanwick looks around. “Can I have a volunteer to be Ripley’s buddy for today? To show her how we do things here?”

A pretty blonde girl immediately raises her hand. She’s theonly other girl not in a dress. In fact, she’s in sweatpants and a T-shirt. “I will.”

“Wonderful, Arizona. Thank you. Boys and girls, don’t forget about the father-daughter and mother-son picnic on Saturday. It’s going to be so much fun.”

Oh no.

She continues, “You all have about fifteen more minutes of playtime before we begin our day. Arizona, please show Ripley around the classroom and where to store her lunch.”

Everyone runs off except Arizona, who stands. Oh, she’s tall like me. I’ve always been the tallest girl my age, but we’re about the same height. She approaches me and smiles. “Hi. I’m Arizona Abbott. I love your glove and your sweatshirt. Do you play softball?”

I nod. “Thanks. I do. My mommy was in the Olympics for softball.”

Her eyes widen. “Wow. That’s awesome. What position did she play?”

“Pitcher. I’m a pitcher like her. She’s been training me.”

“Cool. My brother is a pitcher. I was thinking about pitching too, but maybe I’ll learn to be a catcher instead so we can throw together. Maybewe’llbe in the Olympics one day like your mom was.”

I can’t help but smile as I’m immediately put at ease. I have my first friend. And she’s awesome.

“I’d like that. All of it. I have a ball in my bag and an extra glove. Maybe we can throw at recess.”

She shrugs. “I’m a lefty. Your extra glove is probably for righties.”

My face falls. “Oh. Yes, it is.”

She smiles. “But I have a glove in my bag too. I never leave home without it. We can definitely throw. I’m so excitedto have another girl to throw with. I’ve never thrown with other girls, only boys.”

I go on to have the most amazing first day. Arizona and I spend every minute together. We play catch at recess. She has the best arm I’ve ever seen on a girl our age. We’re already talking about playing on the same team this spring.

At some point, one girl came over to me and made fun of my size. I know I’m very big for my age, but it always hurts. Before I could respond, Arizona pushed the girl to the ground and made her cry.

When no one was looking, she poured a cup of water into the girl’s lunchbox and soaked her sandwich. We giggled as we watched the girl open it with water and sandwich bits pouring all over her dress.

At the end of the day, we walk out toward the school buses, and that’s when I see him. The cutest boy I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s got blond hair and blue eyes I can clearly see from a hundred feet away. He must be at least thirteen years old. So old.

He’s got a red backpack hanging off his shoulder and is staring at Arizona. I understand. She’s very pretty.

I lean over. “That cute boy is looking at you. I think he likes you.”

She starts giggling uncontrollably. “That’s my brother, silly. He’s not cute at all. He’s gross. He farts all the time. Yuck.”

“Oh. How old is he? Is he a teenager?”

“He’s ten. He’s just tall for his age, like us. Come on. I’ll introduce you to him. He waits for me every day to make sure I get home.”

I quickly look around and don’t see my mommy. She said she’d pick me up right after school. It’s of no surprise to me that she forgot. She’s been doing that for five straight years.

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