At a quarter to twelve Nate took off his cleats. He got out a comic book he’d read a bunch of times before, lay down on the living room couch, and tried to concentrate. In a little while, he figured, he’d call up Naomi and see if she was ready to come over so they could test their cloud chamber with the dry ice. Maybe if he thought about the science fair, he’d get his mind off the tryouts.

Junie came in. “What are you doing here, Natie?” she asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be down at the ball-field?”

“I’m not playing this year, J,” he told her. “It just feels too complicated. I don’t think the kids want me on their team anyway.”

His little sister looked at him hard. “So? Who says they’re the boss of you?”

“They all talk about our family. You know what I mean.”

“I figured out it’s easier for kids to talk about you when you’re not around,” she said. “That’s why I decided to be in the play at school—just so they won’t talk so much.”

“I’d probably mess up anyway,” he told her. “Plus, I don’t have a way of getting there. The chain on my bike is so rusty, I’d never make it.”

“You can take mine.”

Nate looked into his sister’s eyes. He thought about how brave she’d been that morning when Bucky ran off with her. He wanted to be brave now too.

Her bike was small for him, of course, not to mention pink, with colored streamers and a bell with the face of Barbie on the front. Not exactly the best way to get him the long five miles to town. But that was the least of his problems. He laced his cleats back on and he was out the door. He hopped on Junie’s bike and started pedaling full speed.

The tryouts had been going on a good hour by the time Nate arrived at the field. He rode right up to the spot where the players had assembled and lowered the kickstand of Junie’s bike, remembering how he’d felt the other day in the patrol car with Officer Scruggs, telling him to leave his sister alone. He shot a look toward the row of boys on the bench like the one he’d given the police officer. Nobody said anything about the bike.

“I’m glad to see you made it, Chance,” Coach Jennings said to him. “I’ve been wanting to take a look at that arm of yours.

“Evans.” He pointed to Travis. “I understand you’re trying out for pitcher this year.”