Baseball Great Page 11

  “I don’t know,” she said, pasting a fake smile on her face. “That depends on what you have to say and how long it will take to say it.”

  Josh slipped out of his raincoat and hung it, dripping, from a peg on a rack that held two other coats and several hats on either side of a full-length mirror. He took a step into the living room, off the wood floor and onto a worn Oriental rug. He cupped the bottle of pills in his hand and stuffed it into the front pocket of his jeans.

  “I didn’t know which house was yours,” he said. “I went across the street. She’s kind of a crab.”

  “That look more like a doctor’s house to you?” Jaden asked. “That big white thing?”

  Josh shrugged, not wanting to argue.

  “My dad had to pay for medical school by himself and support me, too,” she said, sounding angry. “Instead of doing what most doctors do, he’s spent his time as a resident doing free clinics for poor people. So, he doesn’t get to drive a Porsche, like your coach, and we live here.”

  “It’s nice,” Josh said, looking around. “As nice as my house.”

  Jaden’s face softened a little and she picked up the cat.

  “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” Josh said.

  Her face softened even more. Her cheeks flushed and she looked down.

  “That’s okay,” she muttered. “I’m kind of sorry, too. It’s just that I write that article about you and the team, and everyone was giving me grief about it anyway, and then you leave and your dad takes Esch away and now we stink again, and everyone says you’re going out with Sheila, and I look like a jerk.”

  “You don’t look like a jerk,” Josh said, sitting down on the big chair facing the couch.

  She looked up at him and said, “I want to win a Pulitzer Prize. That’s my goal.”

  “Why can’t you?” Josh asked. “You’re smart.”

  She shook her head and said, “You can’t get there by writing things for yourself. You have to have integrity, write things the way they really are, not the way you want them to be.”

  “What’s that got to do with me playing for the Titans?” Josh asked, afraid he sounded stupid.

  Jaden looked up to the ceiling, then back at him, and said, “I wrote that article, yes, because you are a great player, but also because I like you.”

  Josh shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. Jaden hung her head and stroked the cat.

  “I like you, too,” Josh said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  WHEN JADEN LOOKED UP, Josh could see that her eyes swam in tears, even though none spilled down her cheeks.

  “But you’re with her,” Jaden said.

  Josh shook his head violently. “I’m not. That’s the crazy thing. I didn’t say anything. She just sat down at lunch and asked me out, and I didn’t say anything, and Benji, he started telling everyone, and she did, too, I guess, but I’m not.”

  Jaden looked at him, and the sad expression on her face began to melt away, replaced by the glow of a small smile.

  “Well, that’s good,” Jaden said.

  “This whole ‘going out’ thing,” Josh said. “It’s all crazy. I don’t even know what it means. There, I said it. I’m stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid,” Jaden said.

  “People say they’re going out, and I don’t see what that means,” Josh said.

  “Just that they like each other,” Jaden said. “It doesn’t have to mean more than that.”

  “What about kissing and all that?” Josh said, looking away from her, his cheeks on fire now along with his ears.

  “People can do that if they want,” she said. “They don’t have to if they don’t. It’s just a way of saying you like each other, that’s all.”

  “So?” Josh said.

  Jaden got up and rounded the coffee table. Josh kept his head down, but he looked up with his eyes. She bent down and gently kissed his cheek.

  “So,” she said, then sat back down on the couch, grinning now.

  Josh grinned back and shrugged. “That’s not a big deal, right?”

  Jaden shook her head and said, “Not really.”

  “And we’re going out?” Josh said.

  “Does it matter?” Jaden asked.

  Josh shook his head and said, “Benji says you should text a girl every day.”

  “I like to get text messages,” Jaden said. “But what does Benji know about going out with girls?”

  “Nothing, really,” Josh said.

  “Right,” she said, picking up the cat. “We like each other. That’s all for now. We just see what happens.”

  “That sounds pretty smart,” Josh said. “You’re smart. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Not so that I would kiss you?” she asked.

  “No,” he said, looking down.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m kidding.”

  “This can be just between us, right?” Josh asked.

  “Of course,” Jaden said.

  Josh nodded and removed the bottle of pills from his pants pocket, holding it up in the warm orange light, rattling it gently.

  “This is what I wanted to ask you about,” he said.

  “Here, Mittens, sit down,” Jaden said, setting the cat on a cushion and reaching for the bottle. “What is it?”

  “That’s what I want you to tell me,” he said.

  She examined the bottle and said, “It looks like prescription drugs, but there’s no label. It could be anything.”

  “You ever heard of gym candy?” Josh asked.

  Jaden narrowed her eyes and said, “Steroids?”

  Josh shrugged. “That’s what I wondered.”

  Jaden twisted off the top and shook a pill out into her palm, studying the markings before putting them back.

  “That’s what they call steroids—gym candy,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean this is that.”

  “Someone told me it was gym candy,” Josh said.

  Jaden studied him and asked, “Someone you trust?”

  “I don’t know,” Josh said, wrinkling his brow.

  “How could you, right?” she said. “If they’re telling the truth, how can you trust them? Who’d give a kid—no offense, I’m a kid too—who’d give a kid steroids? No one you can trust.”

  “And if it’s not really steroids or gym candy or whatever you call it,” Josh said, “then they lied to begin with.”

  “That’s what I mean,” Jaden said.

  “I told you you were smart.”

  “So,” Jaden said, “what do you want me to do?”

  “Find out what they really are,” Josh said. “Remember the night I walked you to the hospital to meet your dad?”

  “Yes.”

  “Remember I said that Porsche looked like Rocky Valentine’s but I said, why would he be there?” Josh asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well,” Josh said, “I never told you because your dad came, but it was his car. The license plate said DOIT2IT. That’s his saying, ‘Do it to it.’ So, I’m riding over here tonight and I’m thinking, if this stuff is coming from Rocky but it’s really a drug you need to get from a doctor, well…”

  “He’s getting it from a doctor at the hospital?” Jaden said.

  “Maybe,” Josh said. “What do you think?”

  “Forget what I think,” she said. “The question is, what would a good reporter do?”

  Josh shrugged.

  “A good reporter first finds out what this is,” Jaden said, shaking the bottle and rattling the pills again as she handed the bottle back to him. “Once we do that, we find out where it came from. If it really is steroids, we have to tell someone.”

  “Like our parents?” Josh said, wincing and sucking in air through his teeth as he stuffed the bottle back into his pants pocket.

  Jaden pressed her lips tight and shook her head.

  “No,” she said, “like the police.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  JOSH STARED AT HER. Mittens hoppe
d down onto the floor with a light thud and walked out of the room, swishing its tail. An old wooden clock on the wall ticked with a small sound like spit bubbles popping.

  “You can’t,” Josh said. “You promised. This is between us. You said.”

  “But Josh,” she said, “this is dangerous. This is illegal.”

  “You promised,” Josh said, scowling at her.

  “I know, I know,” she said, raising a hand in the air. “But why? Why wouldn’t you want to stop this?”

  Josh sat looking at his own hands, squeezing them into fists, then letting them relax, then squeezing them again as if he could extract his worry the way a farmer milks a cow.

  “My father,” Josh said in barely a whisper.

  “Your father is in on this?” Jaden asked with shock.

  Josh shook his head. “No, but he works for Rocky. He’s doing well. I don’t want any trouble for Rocky. I don’t want trouble for my dad. This retiring thing. Don’t say anything, but he got cut from the team. They let him go. Baseball was my dad’s life.”

  “A first-round pick out of high school,” Jaden said with a nod.

  “I know,” Josh said. “Now it’s gone, and this job is all he’s got.”

  “He’s got you and your mom and your sister,” Jaden said.

  “But outside that,” Josh said, “this job with Rocky? That’s it.”

  Jaden looked at him for a moment and sighed before she said, “Josh, do you know how dangerous this stuff is if it is steroids?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “Forget about the mood swings and acne,” Jaden said. “This stuff can kill you. Liver damage. Kidney damage. Heart damage. In teenagers, it sometimes stops their growth completely. This is so illegal, Josh. For him to be doing that.”

  “If he is,” Josh said.

  “Right,” Jaden said. “But if he is, we have to stop it.”

  “But we have to stop it without the police,” Josh said. “This is my secret. I told you when you promised that it was between us. You can’t go back on that.”

  Jaden shook her head. “You’re right, I can’t.”

  “Then we do this my way,” Josh said. “First we do what you said—we find out if it’s real. Who knows? This could be a placebo.”

  Jaden twisted her lips and said, “What? He’s supposedly giving out steroids, but they’re really not?”

  “You said yourself that they give people sugar pills and the people get stronger just because they think they’re taking steroids,” Josh said. “Or maybe it’s just another supplement and Tucker is telling me it’s gym candy just to mess with me. It’s possible.”

  “I guess,” Jaden said. “I doubt it, but you’re right, we have to find out.”

  “Can you do that?” Josh asked. “I don’t want you asking your dad.”

  Jaden thought for a moment, then said, “The PDR—my dad has one.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Physicians’ Desk Reference,” Jaden said, getting up from the couch and reaching for the shelf above her dad’s desk.

  Jaden removed a red book, thicker and heavier than a phone book. She laid it down in front of him on the coffee table and flipped it open to one of the pages toward the front. Small, rectangular photos made a grid filling the page.

  “See this?” Jaden said, pointing to the picture of two yellow, oval pills with ZX1 stamped on them. “It’s an index.”

  “It has every pill made?” Josh asked.

  “Except for some of the generic stuff,” Jaden said. “But just about everything is in here. Every pill has its own design and markings.”

  Josh flipped a couple pages and said, “There must be thousands.”

  “Yup,” Jaden said. “You leave me one of those pills. It might take a little time, but I’ll find out what it is.”

  Josh looked at the front door.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll take it up to my room and he’ll never know it’s gone.”

  “I’ve got to go, anyway,” Josh said, taking a look at the clock and dropping a pill into her outstretched hand.

  “Who knows?” Jaden said, closing her hand. “Maybe I’ll have news for you tomorrow in school.”

  “If you find out tonight,” Josh said, pulling on his raincoat and sticking the pill bottle in the side pocket, “send me a text.”

  “Even if it’s late?”

  “I’ll put my phone on vibrate. If I’m awake, I’ll get it,” Josh said. “And tomorrow? You want to sit with me at lunch?”

  Jaden smiled. She closed the book, took a step toward the stairs, and said, “That’ll set Sheila straight.”

  “And you won’t say anything to anyone about all this?” Josh asked.

  “If these are steroids,” Jaden said, opening her hand so the pill rested in the center of her palm, “I won’t stop trying to convince you we should tell the police, but I’m not going to do it unless you say it’s okay. I made a promise, and I keep my promises.”

  “Thanks, Jaden,” Josh said, putting his hand on her arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I knew I could count on you.”

  “Okay,” Jaden said, closing her hand around the pill, “I better get this upstairs.”

  Before she took another step, the latch on the front door rattled and Jaden’s father burst into the room. In his hand he carried a small orange plastic bag from the drugstore. The hand in which Jaden held the pill disappeared behind her back.

  “Jaden?” her father said. “What are you doing?”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  “DAD,” JADEN SAID. “HI.”

  “Hi, Dr. Neidermeyer,” Josh said, his mind spinning fast and latching on to an idea. “We’ve got this science fair project coming up, and I asked Jaden to give me some help with it.”

  “With my PDR?” her dad said.

  “Uh, I know from my dad playing baseball for so long that they use a lot of anti-inflammatory pills in sports,” Josh said, sweat breaking out on his upper lip. “So I wanted to make a poster of the different kinds and I, uh, wanted to have pictures of the different pills, and Jaden said she could get me some ideas from that book.”

  Her father studied him for a few seconds through his foggy, rain-spattered glasses before he said, “That’s the right book then.”

  Dr. Neidermeyer shed his raincoat and sneakers, then crossed the room and knelt down in front of the printer that was tucked under his desk, back to his own business.

  “So, okay,” Josh said in a loud, robotic voice her father could hear, “thanks, Jaden. See you in school.”

  “See you,” Jaden said, waving a limp hand and wearing a pained look on her face as if it hurt her to lie.

  Josh left and climbed on his bike but didn’t get past the first telephone pole before his phone buzzed. He fished the phone out of his pants pocket and flipped it open without stopping the bike.

  “THAT WAS 2 CLOSE,” Jaden said in her text.

  Josh nodded as if she could see him. He snapped the phone shut, buried it deep in his pants pocket to stay dry, gripped his handlebars, and raised his backside up off the bike seat, pedaling hard for home.

  By the time Josh arrived, his father had finished the oil job in the garage and gotten cleaned up. He sat on the couch in the living room beside Josh’s mom, watching a Yankees game.

  “You’re soaked,” his mom said, standing up and wringing her hands. “Get into the shower, Josh.”

  “And you’re late,” his father said, glancing at his watch but returning his attention to the TV immediately.

  “Let me take your coat,” his mom said, stepping into the kitchen and reaching for his coat.

  “No, that’s okay,” Josh said, retreating into the little open closet area beside the door where their coats hung on hooks in the wall. “I got it.”

  Josh slipped the pill bottle out of the raincoat and into his pants pocket.

  “What’s that?” his mother asked.

  Josh whirled around, his face hot. “Nothing.”

&
nbsp; His fingers did a quick switch inside his pocket, and he took out the phone.

  “Just my phone,” he said.

  “Why’s your face red?” his mom asked.

  Josh wagged his head, looking down at his feet and kicking off the wet sneakers.

  “It’s a text message from Jaden,” he said. “That’s all.”

  “Jaden?” his mom said. “You two are texting each other now?”

  “Mom. Stop.”

  His mother turned away, raising her hands in the air. “I’m just asking. I think she’s nice.”

  “She is,” Josh said.

  “You better go get a hot shower,” his mom said, complaining. “Riding your bike around in the rain.”

  “I had to meet the guys,” Josh said. “I got my homework done in study hall.”

  “Lights out at nine-thirty,” his mom said. “That’s twenty minutes.”

  “Can’t I read?” Josh asked.

  “Okay,” his mom said, returning to the couch in the other room. “Just until ten, and be quiet up there so you don’t wake your sister.”

  Josh kissed his parents and went upstairs to get ready for bed. As he returned his toothbrush to its place in the ceramic mug beside the sink, his cell phone buzzed and vibrated across the top of the toilet tank, sounding like a jackhammer. He snatched it up and popped it open, expecting a text but hearing Benji’s voice instead.

  “Hey,” Benji said. “You forget your main man?”

  “What?” Josh said.

  “You said you’d call me with the answer to problem thirty-two in the math,” Benji said. “Remember?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Josh said. “I forgot.”

  “Dude, you need to eat some fish.”

  “Fish?”

  “Helps your brain,” Benji said. “My mom makes fish every Tuesday night. The whole house smells like a sewer, but we’re one sharp bunch.”

  “Then why do you need me for problem thirty-two?” Josh asked, whispering as he crossed the hall into his room, where he quietly closed the door.

  “Stop flattering yourself,” Benji said. “You’re genetically predisposed to math and I’m not.”

  “Genetically predisposed?” Josh said, wrinkling his face and looking at the phone.