Free No Place by Todd Strasser Page B

retiring to Florida or whatever his plan was. Some of the guys called himBuddha behind his back because he had that detached way about him. Even though I’d only met Coach Petersen from Rice once, I’d spoken to him a lot on the phone, and already felt closer to him than I ever had to Buddha.
    *  *  *
    By lunchtime I was starving. When it comes to bargains the school lunch is pretty cheap, but the portions are small. On the menu that day was a chicken leg over rice, cauliflower and peas, and applesauce.
    Being the best pitcher on the team, I’d been written about in the school and local papers, so the lunch ladies knew who I was. I always made a point of saying hello and asking how they were. When you play team sports, you learn that what a player does off the field can be just as important as what he or she does on it. You represent your town and school, and if you make it big someday, you’ll want the folks back home to say nice things about you. That day Lisa, a skinny blonde with a gravelly smoker’s voice, was behind the counter.
    “Think I could have a little more?” I asked when I saw how skimpy that drumstick was.
    “You can buy another main course, honey,” she said.
    I knew I could, but that would nearly double the cost of lunch and Mom had portioned out the lunch money for one meal per day. So taking a second main course now would mean not having enough at the end of the month. “Thanks. I probably shouldn’t.”
    Lisa looked puzzled. “It doesn’t cost that much.”
    “Yeah, I know. Thanks anyway.” I slid my tray toward the cashier. They say it’s the little things that count, and I was beginning to see that part of being homeless was not being able to count on the little things, like an extra helping of school lunch. I’d just given the cashier my PIN when Lisa came over with a second helping of chicken and rice in a Styrofoam bowl.
    “Here you go, honey,” she said, and gave the cashier a knowing wink.
    “Hey, thanks.” My growling stomach appreciated it, but my head felt uncomfortable. Would this be my life from now on? Sneaking into school early to take showers, and depending on handouts at lunch?
    As I headed for the table where the usual suspects were sitting, I wondered if it was possible that Lisa had given me the extra food because she’d somehow heard about my family moving to Dignityville. No, it wasn’t possible. Not yet. But how long would it be before the whole school knew?
    “Looks like someone’s hungry,” Noah quipped when I put my tray down. Talia smiled at me and turned back to her conversation with Tory. She’d gone with her family to their lake house for the weekend. We’d stayed in touch, mostly texting, but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to tell her about our latest move.
    One thing was certain: I wouldn’t be able to avoid it for long.
    *  *  *
    By the afternoon I’d really begun to drag. The combination of not getting much sleep the previous night and getting up so early that morning had caught up to me. Back in the day I’d kept a couple of Red Bulls in my locker for moments like this, but when money got tight, I’d let that lapse.
    “Think it’s time to get the arm loose?” Noah asked in the weight room after school while we worked out with kettlebells. Every fall after summer showcase ball ended, I rested my arm for two months and focused on core and leg strength.
    “Why?”
    He cocked his head curiously. “Uh . . . because the Fall Classic is coming up and maybe you ought to prepare for it?”
    “Oh, yeah.” I yawned and started another set of swings with the bells. To be honest, I hadn’t thought much about the tournament for the past few days. There’d been other things on my mind. Noah and I agreed that I should probably start throwing at our next workout, and then we went back to core training.
    “Need a ride?” he asked later when we left the gym.
    I’d known this moment was coming, but my sleep-deprived brain hadn’t