Wind Up, Derek Jeter [little red riding hood read aloud .txt] 📗

the chain-link fence, and yelled his head off for Harry to keep the rally going.

With the count full, Harry took a huge swing, and hit a soft fly to shallow right center. The right fielder, seeing the big swing, had misjudged it and backed up two steps, before realizing Harry hadn’t gotten all of it.

By the time the right fielder realized his mistake, it was too late—he raced back in, just as the center fielder and second baseman arrived at the same spot. The ball fell between them, and Pete wound up on third, with Harry on first!

“WOO-HOO!” The Yankees and their fans were all on their feet, shouting and cheering.

Ryan was up next. His fly to center was the second out, but it was deep enough to score Pete, and the Yankees were back in the lead, 4–3!

The Giants erupted into shouts, blaming the right fielder for messing up. Their coach had to call time and go onto the field to keep a fight from starting between his players!

Derek felt sorry for the kid in right field. It was an easy mistake to make, and most kids wouldn’t have done any better, he knew. But he was glad the Giants were upset.

A rattled team is a losing team.

Avery struck out to end the Yankees sixth, and came back to the bench in a rage, shaking the chain-link fence to work off the frustration before grabbing her mitt to get back out in the field.

“We’ve got ’em where we want ’em,” Derek said under his breath, pounding his glove. He glanced over at Avery. She looked right back at him, her eyes ablaze with intensity.

Pete took the mound. He was clearly feeling good about himself, after finally coming through for his team at the key moment. Pete was big and strong, if not a particularly accurate thrower. But the Giants were desperate now. They were trying to get that run back with every swing they took.

Between Pete’s wildness and their overeager swings, the mighty Giants had no chance. They went down one, two, three—on two grounders and a weak pop-up!

In the biggest upset of the entire Little League season, the lowly wild-card Yankees had dispatched the undefeated kings of the regular season!

Against all odds, they’d done it. And now they were just one win away from the championship!

Chapter Eleven DAVE

That night after dinner, the phone rang. “It’s for you, Derek,” said his mom, handing him the phone. “Dave.”

“Hello?” Derek said anxiously. He’d been waiting for Dave’s call.

“Guess what? We won!” Derek could hear the excitement in his friend’s voice.

“Wow! That’s great!”

“You know what this means, right?”

“It’s us versus you for the big prize! I can’t believe it!”

“What were the odds?”

“It’s going to be one heck of a game.”

“Oh, man…”

Derek heard the sudden hesitation in Dave’s voice. “What?”

“You sure you’re okay about it?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I know how much this means to you,” Dave said. “It means a ton to me, so I can only imagine…” Dave loved all sports, but he knew baseball was Derek’s passion. If it had been a golf tournament, the shoe would have been on the other foot.

“Don’t worry about it—because you guys are not going to win.”

Dave let out a relieved laugh. “Okay, we’ll see. But if we win, and if I hit three homers or something—are you still going to write to me?”

Derek was suddenly caught up short. “Of course!” he said. “Are you kidding?”

“Kind of,” Dave said. “But… well, with the move and everything, I thought maybe—”

“Never! Not on my end, at least.”

“Mine neither.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay,” said Dave. “I guess… I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Sure. And hey, don’t worry—it’s going to be a great game. And whatever happens, nothing changes between us.”

“Right. Nothing changes.” There was a short silence. “Bye, then.”

“Bye.” Derek hung up, feeling a little rattled. Somehow, when the playoffs had started, it had seemed like such a long shot that he and Dave would wind up playing each other in the final game.

He wasn’t sure how happy he was about it. If Dave was worried it would affect their friendship, should Derek have been worried too?

How would he really feel if the Yankees went down in defeat because of Dave? Not great, that was for sure. He guessed it would be better if Dave was the Tigers hero, rather than some other kid. But Derek wasn’t sure how he would feel. You never really knew until the moment came.

One thing was certain—between now and Saturday, he and Dave were competitors. One of their teams was going to win the championship.

And one wasn’t.

Derek could feel the cold sweat in his armpits. It wasn’t like normal sweat—the kind you work up when you’re active. This was the sweat of anxiety. Of fear.

Glancing over at his rival, Derek saw that Gary was busy filling in answer after answer. He had a relaxed, satisfied smile on his face—the smile of a tiger after eating its prey.

Wait—was Gary actually humming?

Looking up at the clock behind Ms. Terrapin’s desk, Derek saw that he was now behind in time. He felt a surge of alarm go through him. The cold sweat was now showing through his T-shirt.

Come on, said a little voice in Derek’s head. Math is your best subject! Derek remembered his dad’s advice: “You can’t do your best if you’re stressed.”

It’s just a bunch of puzzles to be solved, that’s all, Derek told himself. Puzzles are fun, right?

He smiled. The voice sounded a lot like Vijay. Derek looked over at his friend. Vijay looked calm, unworried, and totally focused.

Derek tried to get back to work, but Gary’s soft humming kept distracting him.

And then, he thought of the chicken suit. He saw himself, surrounded by classmates pointing at him and laughing. Even the little kids were laughing and pointing. He would never live it down.

The image was enough to shock Derek back into action. The jumble of facts in his brain suddenly reorganized itself.