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  “Well, there’s been an investigation and it looks bad for the clubs. So they’ve cut their ties with some of the boys to avoid further investigation. Oscar got caught in that mess. His contract was canceled.”

  Same story that Oscar told. Probably true. But there’s more. “Is Oscar illegal?”

  “Talk to your dad about that,” said Coach. “He can set you straight on the way of the world.”

  Mike felt a flash of anger. “What does that mean?”

  Coach didn’t look at him. “One more thing, Mike. Zack and that bunch are back in school. The district wimped out. Afraid to stand and fight. But we don’t have to welcome them back with open arms. The Cyber Club is done, but they still have no place here. You tracking me?”

  If he didn’t track Coach’s words, he could track the hard glint in his eyes, the tight smile. All he could do was nod. He was wimping out and the anger turned sour in his stomach.

  Coach stood up. “You’re going to be a great captain, Mike.” He reached across the desk to shake his hand.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Lunch started out easier than he expected. Lori forgave him for standing her up Saturday night. She assumed he had still been wasted from Friday night at Craig’s. She giggled and said she had never seen him so ripped. Some part of him wanted to tell her about Kat, some part was terrified she would find out. Or worse, Tori would find out. Ryan avoided looking directly at Mike.

  They talked about the day with Billy. A cheerleader’s boyfriend had heard the announcement after yesterday’s doubleheader and word had whipped around. But nobody asked Mike who he was going to take. He figured both Ryan and Lori thought they were in the running. They would have been a few days ago. A tough choice then. But there was only one person he wanted to be with now.

  “So who shot the video and sent it in to Billy?” asked Lori.

  Mike was still figuring out an answer when Andy gestured across the cafeteria and said, “Look. Return of the computer virus.”

  Zack was settling down at the geek table. Fatty, Skinny, and the Chinese kid were there. The girl with the Mohawk. He searched for Kat. He had an urge to go over and ask about her.

  “They cut a deal over the weekend,” said Tori. “The Cyber Club is history. No lawsuits. No permanent records.”

  “Predictable,” said Andy. “Left-wing pukes always get a pass.”

  “How is that a pass?” said Lori. “They shut down the Cyber Club.”

  “They should be expelled,” said Andy.

  “Hey, look,” said Ryan. “There goes Rappy.”

  The big sophomore first baseman, Mark Rapp, was swaggering around the geek table, flipping trash off their trays onto their laps. Craig must have sent Rappy out. It was too far away to hear what he was saying to the geeks, but they were getting upset. Fatty tried to stand and Rappy pushed him back down into his seat. Craig and Eric Nola had strolled up and were laughing him on.

  “That’s not right,” said Lori.

  “It’s not right they’re back in school,” said Tori.

  The twins glared at each other.

  Mike didn’t realize he was on his feet until he heard Ryan say, “Where you going?” It sounded more like a warning than a question.

  He heard silverware clatter on the floor. You never hear that in the noisy cafeteria, he thought. The big room was falling silent. As he got closer, he could hear Rappy.

  “You pukes got no shame. Nobody wants you here. Go to some gay school.”

  “Yo, Captain Mak.” Craig was grinning at him. “Should we trash can ’em?”

  “Leave them alone,” said Mike. His voice boomed in the hushed room.

  “Whose side you on?” said Eric.

  Mike pushed Rappy away from the table. The big sophomore didn’t resist. He looked confused. “Wassup, Cap?”

  “Hey, Semak.” DeVon had sauntered up. “Mind your business.”

  “We’re supposed to set an example,” said Mike. He wondered where that was coming from. Coach Cody? Billy Budd?

  Zack stood up. “We can take care of ourselves, Semak.”

  DeVon and Nola snickered. Mike spotted Coach Cody standing in a corner of the cafeteria, arms crossed. No expression on his face. But we don’t have to welcome them back with open arms. He must have said that to Craig, too.

  “We’re jocks, not bullies.” Definitely Billy. He stood between the geeks and his teammates. He noticed Craig’s eyes flick over his shoulder. He turned and saw a flash of red hair. Andy was behind him. Ryan must be there, too. He felt a surge of love for them. They had his back.

  “You’re not captain yet,” said Craig. His face was getting red. Watch out.

  So what would Billy Budd do?

  The geeks were frozen, Zack the only one standing. He’s figuring out it’s not about him anymore, Mike thought. Craig, DeVon, Eric, and Rappy were watching him like wolves trying to figure out if they should attack or not. Nobody else on the team had come over. The on-field team leaders, Todd and Jimmy Russo, were sitting this one out. Coach Cody hadn’t moved.

  It’s your play, Mighty Mak.

  He tried to remember a story he had read about Billy defusing a situation in the Yankee clubhouse. Dwayne Higgins was involved. A new player had made a racial slur. A couple of other Yankees joined in and there was some pushing and shoving until Billy moved in and quieted them down. What had he said?

  “C’mon, we’re Rangers, we don’t need to do this. We show everybody what we’re made of on the field. These guys”—he gestured at the geek table—“go to this school so we represent them, too. We’re supposed to be their role models. Show them how to act.”

  Eric and DeVon looked down and Rappy looked at Craig, the only one who kept glaring at Mike. I got them, thought Mike. Let it sink in. Don’t go too far. Don’t let this turn into a fight.

  “You heard him,” snarled Andy. “Take a hike.”

  Mike whirled. “Shut up, Andy.”

  Andy was standing alone. Ryan wasn’t there.

  “We’ve made our point—let’s go,” said DeVon. He turned and swaggered off. Eric followed him, then Rappy, glancing over his shoulder at Craig.

  Craig said, “You watch your ass, Semak.”

  “You watch yours, asshole,” growled Andy.

  Craig lunged, but Mike got between them and pushed Andy away. He didn’t look over his shoulder, just pushed Andy all the way back to their table. Kids were applauding and whistling.

  Lori’s eyes were shining. “That was wonderful, Mike.”

  Tori said, “That was stupid.”

  Mike looked at Ryan.

  Ryan looked at Tori.

  “You don’t think I was going to let him get in the middle of that?” said Tori.

  “Didn’t need him,” said Andy. “The Captain and I handled it.”

  Mike noticed that Coach Cody was gone.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Get into the zone. Prepare for Billy. He was deep in the Buddsite, roaming between the Billyblog and the Billy Boards looking for topics to talk to Billy about. He found stories about how Billy’s dad, Big Bill, coached his Little League teams and never missed a high school or community college game. Mike wondered if Big Bill knew Coach Cody. He wondered if that story was true.

  Mike was less interested in the stories about Billy’s girlfriend decorating their new house but he skimmed through them. Billy had adjusted his swing in spring training and was trying out a lighter bat this year. I could ask him about that. And about how he and Dwayne talked over how to play opposing hitters.

  Catchergrrl wanted to know who he was going to take to the Stadium. Thanks for breaking the zone. The only person I want to take isn’t answering me. I’ll give her until the last minute. And then I’ll go alone. Who else? Ryan? Not after today at lunch. Andy would say something stupid. Lori. How could he take Lori when he was thinking about Kat?

  Back to the Buddsite. There were posts about the Billy Budd Foundation and how much time he spent visiting sick kids. Mike even found
a mention of one Mike Semak, the star center fielder from Ridgedale (NJ) High who had won the video contest. “Star.” I wish. He heard a distant knocking sound. The audio system again, he thought. He ignored it.

  It took him awhile to realize the knocking was Mom’s light but insistent rap on his bedroom door. “Yeah?”

  She came in with her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. “You have a visitor.”

  Was it Kat? He had to restrain himself from pushing past her to run downstairs.

  It was Zack, sitting in the living room making awkward conversation with Dad. Zack sat perched on the edge of the couch, clutching his black bag to his chest. He looked ready to run away.

  “Look who’s here, Mike,” said Dad, as if he were introducing Billy Budd.

  “Hey,” said Mike.

  Zack stood up. “I need to talk to you?”

  “Sure. Come on up.” He noticed the look of disappointment on his parents’ faces and the relief on Zack’s.

  Zack followed him into his bedroom, blinking at all the Billys on the wall. “He plays for the Yankees, right?”

  For an instant Mike thought it was geek humor. The guy was serious. He’s in his own league.

  “Mike, um, thanks for, um, stepping up. In the cafeteria?”

  “I did it for the planet.” When Zack didn’t react, he added, “I knew you could take care of yourself.”

  Zack nodded. “That was dumb. Josh and Tyler busted me on that.”

  Josh and Tyler must be Fatty and Skinny, Mike thought. Figured they had names.

  Zack opened his black case and carefully withdrew a video camera. “Kat thought you might want to take it to the Stadium.”

  “You saw her?”

  “She came back to get some clothes. She was just here for a little while. She said she’d call you. Sometime.”

  “Sometime?” It didn’t sound like his voice. Whiny.

  “She, um, she’s not in a good place.”

  “Not in good place?” He felt angry and impatient. “Afghanistan? Darfur?”

  Zack looked at him as if he were surprised Mike had heard of those places. Then he threw up his hands. “She’ll tell you.”

  “Sometime.”

  “She was happy you won. She wants you to take pictures. I’ll show you how. We can email them to her.”

  “She doesn’t answer my emails.”

  Zack looked unhappy. “She really likes you. She told me.”

  “And she won’t answer me?”

  “She gets weirded out sometimes. Feels bad. She calls it going dark.”

  “Like depressed?”

  Zack nodded.

  “Where is she?”

  Zack kept nodding. Mike thought of a toy he had as a kid, a wooden bird that kept dipping its beak in water. Mike wanted to grab his head.

  He took a deep breath. BillyBuddBillyBuddBillyBudd. “What’s going on? Is she like having a breakdown?”

  “I’m not supposed to…”

  “Look, you can tell me. I really like Kat. I care about her.”

  Finally Zack said, “I don’t know that much. A couple of years ago she had problems with her mother’s boyfriend. Some stuff happened. She came here to her grandparents. And then…” He threw up his long flappy arms.

  “Then what?”

  “She was doing fine. Loved to run. Hurting her leg was a bummer. Track coach said it was all in her head because he wanted her to race. Then it got worse and Kat had to stop running. Then she started coming to the Cyber Club, but Cody heard about it and gave her a hard time. That’s when she ripped the word Rangers off her uniforms. He threatened to throw her off the team if she didn’t nark on us. Threatened to reveal her psychiatric record when she applied to college.”

  “Isn’t that illegal?” said Mike.

  “Yeah, but he would do it.”

  He thought of Cody putting pressure on Kat to nark. Unlike me, she refused. I’ve got to see her, at least talk to her.

  “She told Cody to stick it, didn’t she?” said Mike.

  “Yeah, but he confiscated the video she shot at the conference. What he wants is on that tape, me running my mouth.”

  “About hacking Cody?”

  Zack shook his head. “I kind of lost it there, trying to get everybody wound up. I’m the one to blame. And Kat’s beating herself up for not destroying the tape. But how would she know?”

  “Where is she?”

  “It’s like a group home. She’s been there before.”

  He remembered what Lori had said. “Is she, uh, bipolar?”

  “You some kind of shrink?” said Zack sharply.

  “I really want to talk to her,” said Mike softly.

  “She has good days and bad days. She takes meds. Give her a little time.”

  “I thought maybe she’d come with me on Thursday.”

  “She would if she could, believe me.” He looked at his watch. “I gotta book. Let me show you how to use the camera.”

  “You know how?”

  “Well, obviously,” the smart-ass Zack snapped back. Can’t help himself. Social skills.

  But the puke is my only way to find Kat again, thought Mike. He had a crazy idea. “How’d you like to come to Yankee Stadium with me Thursday?”

  THIRTY-SIX

  Billy Budd sent a limo.

  Zack was waiting with Mike at the end of the driveway when the long black car glided up. Zack gawked until Mike elbowed him. “Start shooting.” He imagined Kat would get a kick out of this.

  Zack dug the camera out of his bag. He got the driver jumping out to open a back door, and Mike grinning and waving at his parents as he climbed in.

  They didn’t say much on the ride down the Palisades Parkway, the Hudson River gleaming on their left, over the George Washington Bridge, and into the Bronx. Zack mumbled something about poor people being uprooted to make way for the new Yankee Stadium, but Mike barely heard him. He was concentrating on not worrying about trying to make conversation with Billy Budd because it gave him a stomachache. What do you say to a god?

  An advertising billboard with the date—Thursday, April 24—reminded him that it was exactly five weeks since he had shoved Zack. I should tell him it’s our anniversary, he thought. But the guy has no sense of humor. Some anniversary. Shoving Zack was the worst thing I’ve ever done and look how great it turned out; I’m the starting varsity center fielder in the middle of a great season, captain-elect, met a great girl, and I’m on my way to meet my all-time hero.

  The limo pulled up at the glass doors of the Yankee Stadium office entrance. The driver jumped out to open their door. A chunky young guy in a wrinkled white shirt and a loosened tie rushed out to meet them.

  “Mike,” he said, sticking a hand out. “Dave Petry. Let’s go. Billy’s waiting for you.” He ignored Zack and led the way into the Stadium. He walked fast.

  Security guards waved them through doors into a concrete corridor circling the Stadium, then into a dark tunnel that poured them out into an explosion of dazzling sunshine, green grass, blue sky.

  From the right field foul line, the Stadium was immense, the grandstands rising like cliffs. As they walked onto the field, the Stadium grew around them, higher, wider, until Mike felt as though he were at the bottom of a canyon. He had seen games from seats all over the park but never before had any idea of the hugeness of the field, the height of the stands, the vastness of the sky with the sun as spotlight.

  He tried to imagine the thrill and the pressure of playing here, of what it must be like to be Billy in the center of the universe.

  “Let’s go.” Dave Petry was pulling him toward the Yankee dugout.

  Billy Budd was bigger than Mike had imagined, taller and broader. Mike had to consciously slow his breathing. Billy was listed at 6-3, 220 pounds, but most of the time, Mike knew, the ball clubs added inches and pounds to their stars’ statistics. Billy was as big as advertised. He wore a fresh white pin-striped home uniform, without a cap. His short brown hair glistened.

&n
bsp; His spikes clacked on the dugout steps as he climbed up.

  Billy glowed. His big white smile welcomed them. “Hey, young baller. Congratulations. Great video.”

  He stuck out his hand to Zack, who jumped back.

  “This is Mike,” said Dave, guiding Billy’s outstretched hand away from Zack. “Billy hasn’t had a chance to study the video carefully.”

  “Yo, Mike,” said Billy. His hand was huge, callused.

  His eyes, thought Mike, didn’t seem as shiningly alive as the rest of him. They were clear and brown, but they were on guard. They checked out Mike, roved over his shoulder at the players on the field, then up to the early crowd, warily, as if he were checking for snipers.

  “Hi, Billy.” Mike’s throat, dry, closed up.

  “Photo op,” said Dave. He pushed Mike and Billy together. Several photographers hurried up, posed them. Zack was shooting, too.

  Side by side Mike realized that Billy wasn’t that much bigger than he was. An inch or so taller maybe, at least twenty pounds heavier, but Mike didn’t feel small next to him.

  After a few minutes Billy said, “Gotta get my BP.” He clapped Mike on the shoulder and ran back to the dugout to get a bat.

  “BP?” said Zack. “They take blood pressure before a game?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” When he saw the blank look on Zack’s face, Mike said, “Batting practice.”

  “Great guy, huh?” said Dave. They watched Billy run into the batting cage and take his swings, then grab his glove and run out into center field.

  Mike and Zack trailed Dave as he pointed out Yankees. He introduced Mike to Dwayne Higgins, who shook his hand, then spat sunflower seeds on his shoes and cackled. “Next year, dude, you win a Day with Dwayne and have some fun.” He winked and went to the bat rack.

  They went down into the dugout, through another tunnel, and into the clubhouse. Mike shook hands with a young guy carrying towels who gave them a tour of the lockers, fancy cubicles with CD players and hair dryers. Billy had two lockers with a high director’s chair in front of them. There was a sign on the chair—Captain.