Page 97 of Curveball

“Are you okay, Rip? You don’t seem yourself, and I don’t mean the way you’re pitching.”

“I’m good. I’ll get it together.”

“It’s only the final out in the championship game. Might be a good time to focus.”

It’s unusual for there to be tension between Arizona and me. I know she’s just trying to push me to be my best though. I’d do the same for her.

Just then Coach Billie yells out, “Pound the zone, Ripley!”

Our tension immediately breaks. Arizona smiles at me and mouths, “Pound the zone.”

I giggle. “I prefer to be pounded, but I’m on it.”

She nods. “Let’s finish this shit and go party our asses off. We’re in the party capital of the world.”

I punch the inside of my glove with authority. “We’ve got this.”

She nods, heads back to home plate, and calls for a drop curve. I throw it dead-on accurate, and Arizona frames it nicely for strike one. Our dugout is going nuts, knowing we’re one out away from paydirt. We can all smell victory.

She signals for a rise ball, and I throw it, but the batter doesn’t bite, and it’s called a ball. Arizona gives me the sign to throw the same pitch again. This time the batter swings and misses for strike two.

My adrenaline is kicked into high gear now. One more strike, and the championship is ours.

Arizona calls for a changeup. I wind up, throw the ball, andthe batter swings. She’s way ahead of it. She makes minimal contact off the end of her bat and the ball is slowly rolling toward me.

Shit.

I’m a good pitcher. A great pitcher. But I’m not exactly swift of foot. This batter is fast. She’s probably going to beat it out for a hit.

But then, out of nowhere, Arizona appears, scoops the ball, turns her body, and fires a bullet to first base.

The next thirty seconds play out in slow motion.

It’s a bang-bang play. All eyes turn to the umpire. After a brief moment of hesitation, he punches his fist, signaling the final out.

Arizona’s eyes find mine. We both break into huge smiles as she runs and then jumps into my waiting arms, wrapping her legs around me. And then twenty teammates pile on top of us in celebration, causing us to fall to the ground.

Everyone is screaming and crying tears of pure joy.

I’m practically floating in the clouds. My first league championship, and I was able to do it with my best friends. It’s such a bummer Quincy and Layton couldn’t be here. I’m pretty sure they’re playing this on the big screen in the Cougars’ stadium. I imagine they’re celebrating in their own way.

The next hour is nuts with the trophy presentation and champagne all over. Just in case I’m pregnant, I decide not to drink any. No one notices. We’re all pouring it all over each other anyway.

Everyone is talking about partying on South Beach ahead of our morning flight back to Philly. When I get out of the shower, Arizona appears in tears.

I run over to her. “What’s wrong?”

She swallows. “It’s Layton. There was a collision at home plate tonight. It sounds like he broke his leg. He’s in surgery right now.”

I gasp. “Oh my god.”

She nods. “Reagan Daulton is flying home in her private jet in an hour. I’m going with her. Sorry to miss the celebration.”

“Don’t worry about it. Go be with him. I’ll get all your stuff from the hotel. We’ll come by the hospital tomorrow when we get home.”

She nods as I help her gather her belongings and see her off.

All I can think of right now is Quincy. This will devastate him. Despite Layton’s relationship with Arizona, I’ve never seen Quincy this close with a teammate. I know Layton’s pain will be his pain too. He’s going to be emotional.

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