It Was Me by Anna Cruise

Arizona. I don't know where you stand on your education, but I can tell you right now. If you're interested, we'd love to have you here.”
    His words raced through my head.
    “There'd be a formal admissions process and all that, but assuming you're in good standing at your junior college, I can't see how it would be a problem,” he explained. “I know it might not hold up to going right into pro ball right now, but we might be able to tune you up with a couple years here in Tucson. Instead of an open workout, you'd be looking at getting drafted.” He put the card and pen in his pocket. “No promises, of course. But I think you get that.”
    I nodded slowly, not sure what I was getting at the moment other than overwhelmed.
    I cleared my throat. “I need to think about it.”
    He nodded. “Sure. Talk about it with your family. Maybe wait and see if you get an offer from one of the teams here today. Who knows? They might come through with a pretty good offer. Normally, they're low ball, no guarantee deals that ship you off to low A ball. And maybe that's what you want. You need to decide that.” He smiled again. “But we could do some things for you, too, here at the U of A and get you your degree.”
    I nodded, blinking several times. I glanced over at Abby and her eyes were huge. She held up her hands, wondering what was going on.
    I looked back at Ed Childs. “Okay.”
    He handed me the other card. “My number's on there. Call me after you have some time to think. Or after one of the teams calls you. Let me know what you're thinking. Or if you have questions.”
    We shook hands and I stood there as he walked away. I stared at the card in my hand. His name was embossed next to the U of A logo. I ran my finger over the raised lettering.
    “What was that all about?” Abby asked, coming up next to me.
    I had absolutely no clue.

NINE
     
     
     
    “Options aren't a bad thing,” Abby's father said.
    We'd stopped at a gas station for drinks and so he could fill up the tank. I'd told them about both the scout who'd approached me on the field and my conversation with the Arizona guy. Abby was smiling and her dad was thinking out loud.
    “I mean, it gives you two ways to go,” he continued as he drove. “You could potentially jump into pro ball. Or you can slow down the train, get your degree and play for a top-notch college program. And maybe get better which might lead to better things.”
    He was echoing what Childs said to me. I didn't disagree. It was just weird having woken up with nothing more than trying to figure out how to get Abby alone to now thinking about my future. It had all changed incredibly fast and I was having trouble keeping up.
    “I don't know that either is a reality,” I said from the backseat. “They probably talked to a lot of guys.”
    He caught my eye in the rearview mirror. “We heard the scouts talking about you. We didn't hear them talking about many others.”
    I looked away.
    “They were,” Abby said. “That guy that came down to talk to you? He was on the phone talking about you.”
    “And West?” her dad said.
    “Yeah?”
    “There's no rush here,” he said. “You're in the driver's seat. You don't have to make a decision about anything until you're ready to make a decision. Don't forget that.”
    I nodded absently and stared out the window, the desert coasting past. There was one thing that remained unspoken about the whole deal. The U of A was not a cheap school, especially for out of state students. And I could barely cover classes at Mesa.
    Abby rested her hand on my arm. “Do you have your phone?” she asked. “In case anyone calls.”
    “Crap,” I said, grabbing the duffel. I unzipped it and dug through it for my cell. It was buried beneath the batting gloves. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. “There's a text.”
    Abby twisted in her seat so she was facing me and her dad kept his eyes locked on the rearview mirror.
    I tapped the screen and pulled up