““He played pitch with Dad last night.” “Must have been a rush for your dad.” I smiled. “Yeah, it was.” Although Dad, loyal as ever, had stopped by my bedroom before going to bed to let me know I was still his favorite ball-tosser. “The guy’s good”--he’d winked at me--“but no one can replace you.” His words had made me wish I’d tossed the ball around with them, but I didn’t want Jason to see me as just one of the guys. If one of his teammates asked about me, I didn’t want his recommendation to be, “She has a great arm.””
