Swing, Swing

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Swing, Swing

Chapter One

"And the crowd goes wild as Combs rounds the bases!” Benji whispered to himself, his eyes closed as he lay on his bed. “That’s the third homerun of the game for rookie second baseman Benjamin Combs; at the rate this boy is playing, he’ll be enshrined in Cooperstown in no time.” Benji imitated the roaring of the crowd and saw himself in his mind’s eye loping around the bases, waving to his adoring fans. He was shocked out of his daydream when his twin brother Joel jumped on the bed next to him.

“Benj, Dad says ‘to get your lazy ass up’ so we can get ready for the game.”

“Damn it, Joel, I was just about to cross home plate.” Joel looked at Benji for a long moment, obviously confused. “It was the fifth game of the World Series and I had just hit my third homerun.” More silence. “You and me, Orioles, ass loads of money?” Joel’s face broke out in a smile. “There ya go.”

Within five minutes, both of them had changed into their baseball uniforms, the yellow La Plata logo spread across their chests. “We could never play in the majors, you know,” Joel said as they walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. “We’re too short.”

“Hey. Chuck Knoblauch’s only five-foot-seven,” Benji protested, grabbing his water bottle from the refrigerator.

“And how tall are we?” Joel asked, grabbing his glove off the couch as they headed for the front door.

“Shorter than Chuck Knoblauch,” Benji had to admit. “We could still make it though. I overheard…” Joel cleared his throat. “Okay, I was spying on Coach Fitzick the other day and I heard him tell the principal that there were going to be scouts at the game tonight.” Joel’s eyes widened in surprise. “They’re coming to check us out, Joel. We’re good.” They heard the truck horn honk as their father waited impatiently in the driveway. “Don’t tell the dick, Joel,” Benji said, tying up his laces.

“Of course not. Why would I do a stupid thing like that?” Joel adjusted the cap on his head. He pulled his brother in for a quick hug. “Good luck tonight. May the better twin be drafted.”

“Then I guess you’ll be seeing me play at Camden Yards, huh?” Benji slapped Joel’s ass before running out the front door, his lucky bat in hand. “Don’t worry, Joel, I’ll get you some good box seats,” he called over his shoulder. Joel only smiled as he followed him out.

The ten-minute drive to their high school felt like it lasted forever. Benji and Joel could only say “Yes, sir” as their father droned on and on about what they should do at the game tonight, what they needed to work on, and how they better not lose or they’d get a beating. Maybe that’s why they were so good. They had “motivation.” Benji could remember the one and only error he’d made this season. His jaw still ached from where his father had hit him.

As they pulled into the parking lot, their father commented on a very expensive looking Jaguar parked by the diamond. Benji and Joel exchanged anxious glances. That must be the scout. As soon as the truck was parked, the two of them jumped out and ran for the dugout.

“Holy shit, did you guys hear there’s a scout here tonight? Like, a major league scout? I bet he’s here to look at me,” the center fielder, Luke, said. Joel raised his eyebrows. Even if he hadn’t known the truth, he would still doubt what Luke was saying. Yeah, the kid had an arm on him, but he couldn’t hit for shit. Joel just bit his lip and walked on.

“Hey, my twins are here!” Coach Fitzick said when he saw Benji and Joel walking toward him. “Same as usual tonight, boys. Benji, you’re on second…”

“I thought Who was on second.”

“Who’s on first,” Joel said, picking up on it instantly.

“I don’t know,” Benji smirked. “Third base!” they said in unison.

“You two scare me sometimes. Joel, you’re at short, batting leadoff. Benji, you’re batting clean up.” They nodded, acknowledging their coach before heading out to the field to stretch with the rest of the team. They saw Luke glaring at them out of the corner of his eye.

“He’s just jealous because we’re good and he sucks,” Joel said, giving a little wave to Luke. “Hey, Fitz! What’s my average?” he shouted out, elbowing Benji.

“.423!” Coach shouted back.

“That’s right, baby. You know what Luke’s is?” Benji shook his head. “I’ve been keeping track. He’s hitting .206 right now.”

“Ouch.” Benji plopped down in the grass and began stretching his calves. “Wait, you know Luke’s average but not your own?”

“I know everybody’s. I just wanted Luke to hear it.” Joel spread his legs and leaned forward, stretching out his hamstrings. “You’re .419, by the way.” They continued to stretch, “accidentally” tripping Luke on his way back to the dugout. Half an hour later, the lights were on and La Plata took the field. The top half of the inning was a piece of cake, with their starting pitcher Justin striking out the first two batters and getting the third to fly out to left field. Joel jogged into the dugout, grabbed his bat and helmet and headed out for the batter’s box. Benji watched him walk up, his eyes never leaving his brother. What if Joel was the one to make it, and Benji was left here in Waldorf? What if Benji made it, leaving Joel behind? What if neither of them made it and they were trapped here for the rest of their lives? He shuddered, just thinking about that. He glanced over and saw his father in the stands, a hard look on his face. He was scrutinizing Joel’s stance. They had to make it, just to get away from him.

Joel, meanwhile, was sizing up the pitcher. He was short and scrawny, much like Joel, but didn’t have the confidence Joel did. As he wound up for the pitch, Joel let a small smile creep over his face. The pitcher had messed up, giving him a fastball right over the center of the plate. Joel swung, easily knocking the ball into the hole in right center field. He jogged into second for a stand up double. This pitcher didn’t have anything. He hit the next batter, the first basemen Allen, in the leg and he walked to first. Joel saw a wide opening and stole third easily. He hoped the scout was watching. The next batter up was Luke and he, not surprisingly, struck out. Benji stepped up the plate next, his lucky bat in hand. It was lucky because he had carved Rancid’s logo into the metal after hours of careful work, and so far it had been a very lucky bat. He’d only struck out a few times this season, and if he was out it was usually because of a long fly out. He knocked the dirt out of his cleats as he stepped up the plate.

Benji winked at the pitcher as he warmed up a bit. He had been watching a lot of “Field of Dreams” lately. A lot of “A League of Their Own” too, for some reason. He saw Joel taking a large lead off third base out of the corner of his eye, but he knew the pitcher didn’t notice. And the fool made the same mistake he’d done with Joel, an easy pitch right over the center of the plate. Benji connected, sending the ball over the left field fence. “A three-run homer for Combs!” he whispered to himself as he rounded the bases. Maybe he should fantasize more often before games… He looked around the moderately sized crowd for the scout but couldn’t pick him out. He did a little dance move as he crossed home plate and when he entered the dugout he was congratulated by everyone on the team with ass slaps, except for Luke, who was pouting in the corner. The inning continued, with La Plata scoring five more runs before the opposing team got the third out.

Their time to shine came in the top of the second, when their pitcher Justin allowed one hit and the base runner had tried to steal second. The guy up to bat had bunted, but it was a bad attempt, the ball rolling all the way past the pitcher. Joel ran up, scooped up the ball and tossed it to Benji, who touched the bag and then threw the ball to first for an easy 6-4-3 double play. The cheering of the crowd made both of them grin. They knew they were the best double play duo in the league. The game continued, with Joel flying out to center his second at-bat, a single in his third, and another double in his fourth. Benji did just as well, single in his second and third at-bats, and had an inside-the-park homerun when he hit the ball all the way to the fence and the outfielder made a throwing error allowing him to score. At the end of seven innings the score was La Plata 23, Lackey 1. Justin said it was a “pity homerun,” and that’s what it had appeared to be, a pathetically slow pitch right up the middle. It wasn’t like he had a no-no going, so he figured why not give them a pity run. The crowd got up and started to leave as the teams returned to their dugouts. “Good game tonight,” Fitz congratulated them. “You all were excellent, especially you two,” he said, glancing from Joel to Benji. “I guess now it’s safe to tell you that we had a major league scout from the Orioles in the crowd tonight, and she wants to talk with all of you.” She. So that’s why Benji hadn’t been able to pick “him” out.

Joel gulped down the rest of their water bottle then plopped down on the bench, tired. He’d had quite a workout at shortstop tonight. A lot of groundouts came right at him. Benji took the empty bottle from him, hoping for a bit of refreshment to be left, but there was none. He threw the empty bottle at Joel then sat down beside him. Only a few moments later, a middle-aged woman, not bad looking but definitely older, dressed in a dark blue skirt and blouse came down the few steps into the dugout. She greeted them with a smile before leaning against the fence next to Coach Fitzick. “Nice game, tonight boys. You all did really well. I mean, extremely well. I see a lot of teams and you are one of the best I’ve seen thus far.” Benji let out a little giggle. He’d never heard the word “thus” used in a real conversation. Joel elbowed him in the ribs before anyone heard him. “I’m not going to lie to you. I was sent here tonight to check out only three of you, and I’d like those three to stay with me. The rest of you can go home and rest up.” There was a collective sigh from the team; they knew who would be staying. “I need Benjamin Combs, Joel Combs, and Justin Deming to stay please. Again, great game, guys.” The rest of the team stood, gathering their belongings, and Luke shot the twins a death glare before stomping up the steps.

“You two must be the Combs brothers,” the woman said, extending her hand. “I’m Lindsay Neagle, nice to meet you.” They both shook her hand, a little surprised by the strength in her grip. “Your coach said you were good, and unlike some other high school coaches I’ve talked with, he wasn’t lying. Have either of you ever thought about becoming professional ballplayers?”

“All the time,” Benji blurted out. Lindsay smiled.

“Well, you two have talent. We have some upcoming tryouts for A-League, next month as a matter of fact, and I have some reserved spots for you. If you play then as good as you did tonight, you’ll be in minor league ball in no time.” She handed each of them a business card before moving on to talk to Justin. Apparently, he was an excellent pitcher and she had a reserved spot on the tryout schedule for him as well. Joel couldn’t help but grin, but all Benji could do was stare at the business card in his hand. Handwritten on the back was information about the tryout which was to be held June 13th in Baltimore. “Do any of you have any questions?”

“Will these tryouts be at Camden Yards?” Benji asked, still awestruck.

“Yes they will. Have you ever been on a big league diamond before?” Benji shook his head, a small smile starting to creep over his lips. “Then, if nothing else comes of this, you can say, for one day, you played at Camden Yards.” She shook their hands again before heading out of the dugout, Coach Fitzick at her side.

“Benji! Joel! Get your asses out here!” they heard their father yell. Scooping up their gear, they ran out toward the parking lot and clambered into the old truck, with Joel seated beside a very annoyed Roger Combs. “What the hell took you two so long? I saw the whole damn team leave before you did.”

“Coach needed to talk to us,” Joel said, staring straight ahead. He didn’t like lying to his father, even though their father lied to them all the time.

“Probably about that shitty out you had in your second at-bat.” It had been a long fly out, probably would’ve been a homerun on a different field, but of course that didn’t matter to the perfectionist. “You two smell too. Make sure you get in the shower as soon as we get home.” The remained of the ride home was in silence. Roger couldn’t think of much more to yell at his sons about. Even he had to admit they had played an amazing game. A few minutes later, the truck was parked and Benji and Joel stood by the door, removing their cleats so they wouldn’t track dirt into the house. Benji stuck his tongue out at Joel and then ran for the bathroom. Joel followed close behind.

“You know, no matter how good we do he still finds something wrong with us,” Benji complained, unbuttoning his jersey. He threw it to the floor in front of the toilet. Joel had optioned to remove his dirty white pants first and he had to literally peel them off of himself. “And no matter how hard we try, we just cannot make our uniforms make us look sexy,” he laughed, pulling his undershirt over his head. Joel now had his jersey off and suddenly both of them stopped undressing and looked at each other. “Who gets the shower first?” Benji asked, eyeing the shower curtain.

“Whoever finished getting naked first,” Joel said, quickly pulling his undershirt over his head. They both struggled with their sweaty socks, Joel almost falling over the toilet and they slipped off their underwear in perfect unison. “Stupid twins, stupid doing everything stupid together,” Joel muttered, trying not to look at his naked brother. While Joel was distracted with trying to be decent, Benji seized the opportunity to leap into the shower. Before he realized it, Joel heard the water turn on and the curtain being pulled shut. “Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. He pulled his underwear back on and headed for their bedroom, impatiently waiting his turn in the shower. His father walked by the room and told him to go into the bathroom and kick his brother out of the shower…He didn’t feel like paying an enormous water bill this month. Sighing, Joel stood and walked back to the bathroom to find Benji singing in the shower.

“Destination unknown, Ruby Ruby Ruby Ruby Soho,” Benji sang, not horribly off-key. Joel sadly shook his head before whipping the curtain open. Benji screamed like a little girl.

“Dad says get out,” Joel said, all but pulling Benji from the shower. He stepped in himself and was about to close the curtain but Benji stopped him.

“Joel, I haven’t even finished rinsing my hair!” Benji whined, and Joel could see this was true. Benji’s short black hair still had shampoo suds in it, so Joel begrudgingly let Benji back into the shower with him. It was a little cramped, and more than a little awkward. Joel stood, his back against the wall, as Benji finished rinsing his hair, leaning over a little to make sure he got the top of his head. His moist ass came into contact with Joel’s groin, though only for a second.

“Argh, get out, this is too weird!” Joel protested, shoving Benji out through the curtain. He pulled it shut behind Benji and began lathering up. Benji, meanwhile, merely rolled his eyes and began to dry off with a towel he pulled from the cupboard beneath the sink. Joel was way too uptight about stuff, about life in general. Big deal, they were naked in the shower together. It’s not like it hadn’t happened before in their eighteen years of life. He secured the towel around his waist and headed off for the bedroom, ready to slip on a clean pair of boxers and settle down at the desk to write the five-page research paper that was due the next day for English. The teacher had been a fool and let the class pick out their own topics, so of course Benji chose to write his paper on the SoCal punk scene. He had had three weeks to write this paper, but naturally he’d waited until the last minute to do it.

Joel finished his shower about five minutes later and returned to their room, pulling a pair of old boxers from his dresser drawer. “You’ve been stealing my clothes again,” he accused Benji, pulling on the pair of maroon underwear, the elastic band frayed.

“Nuh-uh,” Benji denied, beginning the second paragraph. He’d be up late tonight, unless… “Joel, can you help me with this essay?” he asked in his sweetest tone. Joel sighed, then sat down on the bed next to their desk.

“Let me guess…It’s due tomorrow and you can’t think of anything to write?” Benji nodded. “Ugh. I am so sick of doing your homework for you.”

“There’s ten dollars in it for you.” Benji held up a ten-dollar bill and Joel greedily snatched it up. “Thanks for the help, Joel.”

“That’s all I’m doing. I’m helping you, Benj.” An hour later, Joel had finished the paper as Benji had read his book for history class, catching up on a week in which he’d done absolutely nothing in class. “Damn it, how do you sucker me into this every time?” Joel complained, stuffing the paper into Benji’s bookbag. Benji just shrugged, threw his book to the floor, and squirmed down under his sheets without ever actually climbing off the bed. Joel turned on the fan—he needed noise to sleep—and then turned off the lights, finding the way to his bed in the dark. Once he had laid his head upon the pillow, he allowed himself to think about the night’s game. They really had done well. As soon as he closed his eyes, he imagined himself playing on the carefully mowed grasses of Camden Yards, the roar of the crowd in his ears. He was playing where Cal Ripken, Jr. had once played. This was insane. This was the best thing ever. Too bad it was only a dream. For now.

The next few weeks passed too quickly for the twins. Somehow, probably through local bar talk, Roger had found out about their upcoming trip to the big city to try out for the major leagues and worked them harder than ever. They ran five miles every night after school, and he drilled them for hours on the diamond in the park near their house, hitting balls at them and pitching to them until they could barely see the ball. Numerous times, he threatened them, telling them if they failed to be drafted, he would let them know exactly how he felt. When Benji complained one night of a sore ankle, Roger “tapped” the ankle with his bat and asked how it felt now. Benji grimaced as he said, “Better.”

They were seniors, and graduation was upon them. As a matter of fact, their graduation ceremony was the night before they were set to leave for Baltimore with Coach Fitzick for their tryouts. They received their diplomas to the delight of their mother, although their father was nowhere to be found during the proceedings. “Probably down at the bar,” Benji muttered under his breath as the class marched out of the gymnasium for the final time. The two of them couldn’t be happier to be leaving La Plata High. They had seen too much torment there over the past four years. Now they were men, ready to go out on their own. There was no time for partying that night; they rode home with their mother and began packing their bags as soon as they got home.

Benji and Joel went to bed as soon as they were finished packing, though they didn’t fall asleep for quite a while. They lay there in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. “Joel, what if we don’t make it?” Benji whispered, a waver in his voice. “What if we’re stuck here forever?”

“We can’t be stuck in Waldorf forever, Benj,” Joel said, rolling over on his side so he could look to Benji across the room. He had his hands clasped together, resting on his chest. “Even if we don’t make it big in baseball, we’ll find another way out of here.”

“Like what?” Benji continued to stare at the ceiling.

“I don’t know, we’ll start a band or something. Go on tour,” Joel joked. Benji didn’t laugh. Usually he laughed at all of Joel’s stupid jokes. “What’s the matter, Benj?”

“I’m scared, Joel,” Benji whispered. Joel sighed and climbed out of bed and walked over to his brother. He sat on the edge of the mattress and looked down at Benji. “Will…will you sleep with me tonight, Joel?”

“If you want me to,” Joel said, pulling back the covers. This was not unusual. Although Benji looked like your typical cynical teenager, he really was quite sensitive. He needed to be around someone at all times, and when he asked Joel to sleep with him, Joel complied. He loved his brother, and he would do anything to see him happy. As soon as Joel was in bed with Benji, Benji snuggled up right next to him.

“You know I love you, right?” Benji said quietly. Joel sighed dramatically. “I’m sorry I’m so emotional right now, but it’s true. You and I, we’ve never hated each other. We’ve always been best friends. I really do love you.”

“Go to sleep, Benj. We gotta be up early tomorrow.” And with that, nothing more was said. Eventually they did fall asleep, Joel perched uncomfortably on the edge of the small twin bed. Their mother came in to wake them up the next morning. She gently shook Joel awake and he slowly opened his eyes, noting the sun was just coming up by the still indigo sky outside the window. “What time is it?” he muttered, rolling out of the bed and onto the floor.

“Five o’clock,” she whispered, pulling him to his feet. “Hurry up and get in the shower, I need you and Benji in and out before your father wakes up.” Joel nodded, stumbling out the door and down the hall to the bathroom. Their mother sat down on the bed next to Benji, who was still asleep, and leaned down and said quietly in his ear, “Benji, wake up. The dog is on fire and the house ran away.”

“Way to quote ‘The Simpsons,’ Mom,” Benji yawned, rolling over. “And besides we don’t have a dog.” After a few more minutes of gentle poking and prodding Benji was up, ready to take his shower. Joel was soon finished and by 5:30 they were ready to go. Coach Fitzick pulled up in front of their house in his old minivan as Benji and Joel rushed out the front door, each giving their mother a quick kiss on the cheek. Benji had his favorite bat with him, even though he knew they used wooden bats in the major leagues. He felt he needed it with him. The two of them fell into the middle seat, greeting Justin, who was sitting in the front seat, opposite the coach. Almost as soon as they pulled away, Joel’s head fell onto Benji’s shoulder and he was fast asleep. They were eighteen-year-old boys. They weren’t meant to be awake this early. Before he knew it, Benji’s head was on top of Joel’s as they napped in the middle seat. Justin awoke them as they entered the city of Baltimore.

The twins had only been here a few times before, and the bustle of a major city kept them awake. The sun had fully risen now and gave everything a bright glow. Joel squinted, looking around. He knew where they were now. They were only a few blocks from the majestic field of the Baltimore Orioles, the historic Camden Yards. Instead of parking in the main lot, Coach Fitzick drove around back behind the stadium to the players’ entrance. He flashed the ID card the scout had given him to the guard at the gate then pulled in. Benji was almost bouncing in his seat when it finally sank in that they were really there. “What time is it, Justin?” he asked, looking at Joel. This really was happening, it wasn’t just a dream.

“It’s about 6:30…Why are we here so early?” Justin asked.

“Warm-ups start at 7:00. I wanted you boys to be ready,” Fitz answered, parking as close to the door as he could. There were already a lot of vehicles there, including a bus from some school district they’d never heard of.

“There’s a lot of people here…” Joel said quietly, grabbing his glove to him. He hadn’t been nervous before, but now he was. He touched Benji’s hand lightly, letting him know. Benji turned to look at him, and Joel could see his expression mirrored not only in Benji’s eyes but on his face as well. Nervous didn’t begin to cover how they felt. Usually they were confident, but this—well, this was the big leagues. If you messed up now, you probably wouldn’t get another chance. They followed Justin and Fitz in through the door. The hallway they entered into was dark and smelled of chlorine and sweat. Joel’s heartbeat quickened as he saw the literal light at the end of the tunnel.

They walked up and out onto the bright green grass of the diamond, near the visitors’ dugout. Benji, who had been watching “A League of Their Own” a little too often lately, expected to see the field filled with boys tossing the balls, taking batting practice, and doing other various baseball-related activities. Instead, he saw a group of about thirty boys seated along the third base line, more or less in a circle, just talking. Joel relaxed a bit when he realized this wasn’t going to be some huge production. He wouldn’t have to humiliate himself in front of hundreds. Joel always had been a bit shy so he just followed behind Benji and Justin as they walked toward the group. Fitz headed off to talk to other coaches and trainers gathered in and around the visitors’ dugout. Benji plopped down in the still-dewy grass next to a boy in a red sweatsuit, with dark brown hair. “Hi, my name’s Benji,” he said, extending his hand.

The boy took it, shaking it as he introduced himself. “Hey, I’m Riley,” he said, holding onto Benji’s hand a moment longer than necessary. “I’m a catcher, how about you?”

“Well, I play second, but I’m good anywhere in the infield, like my brother Joel here, who’s usually shortstop,” Benji said, motioning to the silent Joel. Joel nodded slightly, taking a seat next to his brother. “And that’s Justin, who is the best pitcher of all time. Ever.” Justin just shook his head as he held out his hand to Riley. “So where are you from?”

“I’m from Annapolis. You?” Joel marveled at how quickly this complete stranger was opening up to Benji. He wished he had that kind of social confidence and persuasion.

“We’re from Waldorf.”

“Never heard of it.” Big surprise there. “Wait, Waldorf? I have heard of it. Holy shit. Are you two Ben and Joel Combs? The twins from La Plata?” Benji and Joel exchanged glances. This was odd.

“Yeah, we are. Why, have you heard of us?” Joel asked, piping up for the first time.

“Everyone here has heard of you. You two are supposed to be like the best high school players in the state!” Riley all but shouted, making all the other players’ head’s turn toward them. “You guys, these are the twins!” Riley said loudly, and almost immediately the group was gathered around them. “What are your averages right now?” Riley asked, quickly looking from Joel to Benji.

“Um…” Joel said, figuring it out in his head. He had to factor in the game they had played the night before last, the regional championship. Which they had won. Which meant they’d be playing state tomorrow night. “I’m .426 and Benji’s .421,” he said finally, which earned both of them a whistle from one of the other players. “You’ve really heard of us?” Joel could not grasp the idea that they were known outside of their school district.

“Fuck yeah,” a tall boy with bleach blonde hair said. “They’ve been talking about you on the news.” The twins were now seriously confused. How could they be this big and not know it?

Justin seemed to be reading their minds. “Guys, um, Coach has been kind of shielding you from all the publicity because he was afraid it would go to your heads.”

“Too late,” Joel muttered under his breath as he saw Benji already giving out tips to other players. What got Joel was that the other boys were actually listening to him, taking what he had to say to heart. It was kind of creepy. That half-hour passed quickly. At exactly seven o’clock, a group of trainers in orange and black shirts came out onto the field. Everyone grew quiet, even Benji. This was it. This was really going to happen.

“Split up, right now. I want to see six groups of five boys,” the supposed leader of the group shouted out. The boys did as they were told immediately. Not surprisingly, Benji and Joel wound up in the same group. “I want you to look at each of the boys around you, in your group. Only one of you is going to make past today in tryouts.” Both Joel and Benji’s eyes widened in shock. It couldn’t be just one of them. They both had to make it. They were in this together.

They didn’t start out with warm-ups, as Fitz had predicted. They started out with interviews. Each group of players met with a different official, and Benji and Joel’s group got to talk with a man who introduced himself simply as Bill. Bill talked to Riley first, who happened to be in their group, while the other four boys filled out some paperwork…medical history and the like. For some reason, Joel could not remember his social security number. “I’m so damn nervous!” he whispered into Benji’s ear.

“Just pretend it’s varsity tryouts,” Benji recommended, finishing up his sheet with his signature. “And by the way, this is your number,” he said, reaching over to fill out the nine-digit number. “It’s only two off from mine.” Joel grabbed back his sheet and completed filling it out. “You’re welcome.”

“Thanks Benj,” Joel said, albeit a bit late. He jumped a bit when he heard his name called. “I guess I’m next,” Joel said, quickly jumping to his feet. Benji gave him a reassuring smile before he headed off to meet with Bill.

“Hello, Joel,” Bill said, shaking Joel’s extended hand. “So…you’re part of the Twin Terrors, right?”

Joel took the seat opposite bill at the table set up behind home plate. “Is that what they call us?”

“Fitzy really did keep you in the dark, didn’t he?” Bill laughed. Joel relaxed a bit when he heard him laugh. It meant he wasn’t an uptight asshole. Joel handed him his information sheet and Bill gave it a quick once-over before putting it into a manila folder in front of him. “Standard interview here, Joel, just like for a job. Why do you want to play in MLB?”

“Because…I love baseball. I really do. And from what I’ve heard I’m a really good player.”

“Do you think you’re a really good player?” This had to be a trick question. Employers never asked this kind of question without looking for a very specific answer. Joel was thinking it over before Bill said, “Yes or no, Mr. Combs. Tell me straight out. I won’t think you’re cocky or overconfident if you say yes, and I won’t kick you out right now if you say no because I have yet to see you play myself.” Joel smiled, trying to slow down his racing heartbeat by taking a few deep breaths. He admitted that he thought he was a very good player. He hadn’t made an error this season, and he’d only made one the previous season. “Impressive,” Bill said, writing that bit of knowledge down in a small notepad. “Now, if you were to make it into our farm system, would you be willing to leave home?”

“Hell yes,” Joel answered almost immediately. Bill’s eyes widened, surprised by his quick answer. “Definitely yes,” Joel reiterated.

“And would you be willing to be traded to other team’s farm systems?” The idea, strangely enough, had not before entered Joel’s mind. He had imagined he’d be with his beloved Orioles. He hesitantly answered yes to this question. “That might involve moving all the way across the country. Would you be willing to do that?” Joel nodded, the idea of not playing with Baltimore still bouncing around his mind.

“What about Benji?” he asked suddenly. Bill looked at him, confused for a moment, before realizing Joel was talking about his twin brother.

“Well, to be perfectly honest with you, P.R. likes the idea of brothers playing on the same team, like the Giambis did,” Bill said quietly, leaning in confidentially. “If at all possible—if you and Benji play on the same level—we’ll keep you together as long as possible. Is he as good as you?” Joel nodded vigorously. “That’s great. It was wonderful meeting you,” Bill said, shaking Joel’s hand again. “Send your brother over here next, okay?” Joel all but ran back to his small group to find Benji and Riley in a deep discussion about the idea of designated hitters.

“I think that if a pitcher in the American League wants to hit, they should let him. I mean, come on, you ever see Roger Clemens from Toronto up to bat? That’s a scary sight,” Benji was saying as Joel walked up to them. “Hey, J, how’d it go?”

“I think the American and National Leagues should make pitchers hit. The designated hitter is useless,” Riley said.

“Bill wants to see you next, Benj,” Joel answered, putting his hand on his twin’s shoulder. “It went fine. And when he asks how you play, say amazing.”

“All right…” Benji said, heading off to the table where Bill sat. His interview lasted the same length as Joel’s did, but when Benji returned he told Joel and Riley that they had only talked about baseball during the first minute. “That guy loves the Ramones as much as I do!” he said gleefully, telling the next guy that Bill wanted to see him. “Anyway, back to the idea of designated hitters…” About fifteen minutes later, all the interviews were finished and all the players were called to the area around the pitchers mound.

“We’re going to be dealing with the pitchers first,” an official announced loudly. “The rest of you may take this time to just sit back and relax. We’ll be doing infielders next, just to let you know.” Benji and Joel found Justin in the crowd and wished him luck.

“I don’t need luck. I’m eighteen years old and I can throw an eighty-seven mile-an-hour fastball,” Justin grinned, trotting off toward the mound.

“Cocky bastard,” Benji said under his breath. He followed Joel, who was walking as if he were asleep toward the home team’s dugout. “Joel, buddy, you okay?” Joel didn’t say anything, just crossed the thick hybrid grass of the infield and walked down the steps into the dugout. He took a seat on the cushioned bench and stared blankly out at the diamond. “Joel?” Benji asked, growing concerned.

“This is where Cal Ripken, Jr. sits during games,” Joel said quietly, his voice displaying his awe. “He sits here.” The weight of this comment settled into Benji’s mind. He slowly sat down on the bench beside his brother. He grabbed Joel’s knee and squeezed.

“Someday, people are gonna talk about us like this,” he all but whispered. He felt the need to whisper. This was a place of reverence, just like a church in the twins’ eyes. Benji believed what he was saying. He knew they were going to make it, if not in baseball, then in something else. He hoped it would be baseball. He loved baseball and he knew Joel did too.

The remainder of the day passed almost too quickly for Benji and Joel. When the pitchers had finished and the infielders had gone out to the field, their nervousness disappeared. It was just like playing a game at home, Joel had said. They fielded ground balls, high pop-ups, and the twins turned double play after flawless double play. Although none of the officials said anything out loud, Benji and Joel could tell they were impressed. The outfielders were next and once they had finished it was time for a short break. As all the boys gathered around a cooler filled with water bottles, the comments and praises of the Twin Terrors filled the humid June air. Neither of them said anything in response, just took their comments with a smile. They weren’t finished impressing people. They had yet to bat.

The Orioles had brought in one of their AA League pitchers to pitch to all the new players, even the boys who were trying out as pitchers. The batting order was set alphabetically, and Joel and Benji had a little bit of a break before they would be summoned to the batter’s box. The first boy up, Mike Albin from Bethesda, struck out not once, not twice, but three times. Each boy was given three at-bats. Joel winced as he saw yet another high fastball—which would’ve obviously been called a ball—swung at and missed. Mike Albin was trying too hard to get a hit, anyone could see that. The next eight guys up did a bit better, after realizing they had to wait for the right pitches. Not many great hits, but there were a few that made it to the outer outfield. “Combs, Benjamin!” Bill called out. Benji picked up a bat he felt comfortable with, tightened his batting gloves, and stepped into the batter’s box. After his first at-bat, in which he hit the ball softly between second and third base, he switched sides of the plate and began the next at-bat lefty. He ripped a 2-2 ball to right field, the ball rolling all the way to the wall. He knew he was good. He stepped back to the right side of the plate for the last at-bat.

“Has he always been a switch hitter?” Justin asked Joel.

“Not ‘til today,” Joel answered, just as surprised as Justin was. Benji had never tried batting lefty before, but he’d done a damn good job of it. The last pitch was a long pop up to center field. Benji gave the thumbs-up to the pitcher before skipping back to dugout. “Since when can you hit lefty?” Joel asked, still incredulous.

“I don’t know, I felt like taking a challenge. This is fun!” Joel looked at his twin, confused, as he headed up to the batter’s box. First he was nervous, now he was frolicking around like a pixie. He thought maybe he had attention deficit disorder, or just too much sugar or something. Joel stepped up to the plate and did just as well as Benji, fouling off the first pitch. Joel always swung at the first pitch, didn’t matter where it was. Pitchers didn’t seem to catch on to that for some reason. When he had finished he walked over to the bench and he, Benji, and Justin started to criticize the other batters, not in a mean way, but just analyzing their stances, their swings, their overall look at the plate.

“Twichell, Justin!” Bill called out, about half an hour later. Almost every other boy had gone, and Justin was near the bottom of the list. He struck out in his first at-bat, but got two decent hits in the next two. After the last four boys went, the running trials began. The coaches and trainers timed how fast it took every player to run ninety feet—the distance between bases—and then how long it took them to leg out a double and a triple. Even though they were short, Joel and Benji were fast. They brought in a catcher from the same team as the pitcher and the players were tested on how well they could steal a base. Both of the twins were only caught stealing once out of ten attempts. They actually had the other guys cheering for them.

“You love me, you really love me!” Benji pretended to cry, waving at his adoring fans. Joel slapped him upside the head, in a loving brotherly way. Five o’clock rolled around before they knew it. Bill told them all to head out and grab dinner, and to be back to Camden Yards by six o’clock. That’s when they would be announcing who was already not making the cut. Benji, Joel, and Justin walked out to Coach Fitzick’s van, impatiently waiting for him to arrive.

“You boys did extremely well today,” Coach said, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Benji, Joel…I’m sorry I hid your fame from you, but I felt it was important that you kept playing well without trying to show off.”

“It’s all right, Coach,” Joel said, climbing into the front passenger seat. Benji and Justin tussled for a moment before Justin was shoved into an inside seat. “Why doesn’t one of you just sit in the back seat?” Joel asked, confused as to why his brother had to have the middle seat.

“So we can both do this,” Benji replied, kicking up under Joel’s seat. Justin started punching the back of it. Joel muttered a “damn it” before trying to turn around to hit his brother and his friend. “You know, it’s too bad Luke isn’t here,” Benji said, trying not to laugh. “I’m sure the scouts would sign him.” Justin and Joel were also trying to hold back their laughter.

“Now boys, it’s not nice to make fun of Luke, just because he’s a horrible ball player,” Coach Fitzick said. There was a moment of silence as he pulled out onto the main road toward a Burger King before all four men in the car started to crack up. “You three, you are my shining stars. Seriously.”

“Aw, Coach, that brings a tear to my eye. Oh, wait, sorry, that’s just sweat,” Benji said. They went through the drive-thru, and hurried back to the stadium, eating their dinners on the way. Joel drummed his fingers on the dashboard, just as excited as he used to be as a little boy on Christmas morning. They were the first ones back in the parking lot and the three boys were ready to jump from the van just as Coach Fitzick pushed down and held the lock button for the doors.

“Now, guys, don’t go in there and act like morons. Remember, this was a professional, major league tryout. If you made the cut—which I know you did—keep your cool. The early drafts will be coming up at the end of August.” Benji and Joel sighed in unison. The end of August was a long way away. Only then did Coach lift his finger from the button and allowed the boys to leave the vehicle. They tossed their bags of garbage into a can by the entrance and walked slowly back onto the field, even though their hearts were racing. It was only five-thirty. They had another half-hour to wait before any announcements would be made. That’s when Joel thought of a great way to pass the time.

“I’m going on a picnic and I’m bringing anal beads, barbed wire, cankles, Derek Jeter's honk, elephant dung, fucking llamas, gravy, horny ninja monkeys on speed, immediate ejaculation, Jack Off Jill's PMS, Krispy Kreme donuts, losers named Luke's lube, mop handle used for masturbation, ninety-year-old men, orgasmic spasming, penile enhancer, Quizno's foot-long sub, random alien probing, shit from three thousand horseshoe crabs, tube socks, unlimited supply of chocolate syrup, vulvasaur, Woburn, x-rated porn films, Yolanda Vega, and zillions of used condoms,” Joel recited proudly.

“Zillions isn’t a real word,” Benji corrected him.

“It is now.” The game had lasted about twenty minutes so now they spent their time examining the grass on the field. It was so much better than the plain grass, clover, and dandelions they played on at La Plata. Then Justin and Benji spent time throwing grass at Joel, who tried to ignore it settling into his hair. He wasn’t going to tackle his brother and his friend in front of the scouts, trainers, and coaches. That would not be very mature of him. He’d just have to wait and do it later. All the other players had arrived by five of six, so Bill called them to order.

“There are officially thirty-one of you here right now. Statistically, your chances of making it into the major leagues are one in thirty-one. But we’ve seen some amazing stuff today…and some not so amazing stuff. Just because you’re cut today does not mean you won’t get another chance, however. Well. I won’t delay this any longer. The following players will not be considered in this summer’s draft.” Bill read off a list of about fifteen players. “Sorry, gentleman, better luck next time.” The group that had been cut stood up slowly and walked away. Benji started clapping for them and the rest of the remaining group joined him. Though saddened and upset, the cut players left with a small smile on their faces. “Well, then, I guess we’ll be seeing the rest of you August 29, back here at Camden Yards. We’ll have scouts from every major league team’s farm system here that day. If you decide baseball isn’t what you want to do with your lives, you don’t have to come. I guess that’s all for now. Keep training and stay in shape over the summer, okay? That’s all. Good evening.” And with that, all the men in the orange and black shirts left the field. Benji, Justin, and Joel made sure to say goodbye to the other nineteen players before running over to Coach Fitzick. By the time he’d pulled out of the parking lot, all three boys were fast asleep.

While they didn’t dream in the car, deep in their subconscious minds they knew they were making their waking dreams come true. It was a good feeling. That feeling vanished when, about an hour later, Coach pulled up in front of the twins’ house. “Call me tomorrow so we can work out a practice schedule, okay boys?” They mumbled something sleepily before stumbling up to the front door, Benji’s lucky aluminum bat grasped in his hand. It was quarter to nine o’clock at night, and Roger’s truck was not in the driveway.

“I wonder where he could be,” Joel mumbled as he opened the front door.

“I bet he’s in D.C., taking in an opera, wearing a tuxedo and making witty remarks about the stock market and his cleaning woman, Margarita,” Benji said, closing the door behind him.

“Flirting lightly with a woman half his age dressed in a slinky black cocktail dress,” Joel continued as they removed their shoes.

“Talking with the CEOs of eight different major corporations, setting up a date when they can all hit the links together,” Benji said as they threw their equipment in their bedroom. They laughed lightly as they headed toward their parents’ bedroom, finding their mother hunched over her sewing machine. “Hey, Mama, guess what!” Benji jumped up on the bed, his eyes glittering with excitement. She stopped stitching the shirt she was working on to look up at her sons, who both looked like they had something hidden behind their backs ready to surprise her with.

“What?” she asked warily.

“We weren’t cut! They loved us! They want us back in August for the draft!” Benji all but yelled as he bounced on the bed.

“They said we were really good. There were even people there who had heard of us,” Joel added, a bit more softly.

Robin’s eyes went quickly from one twin to the other. “You know, boys, there’s a reason we never watched the news around here,” she began. Joel explained to her that Coach Fitzick had told them all about their fame and why he had kept it a secret. “Well, that’s a relief.” Benji asked what she was doing. “Your father lost more money gambling at the bar again this week, so I had to take in some more jobs. Look, I’m already half done,” she said, pointing to two rather large piles.

“Screw this, Mama,” Benji said, earning him a reproving glance from his mother. “I mean, forget this…for a little while at least. Come on, Joel and I will go get ice cream with you.”

“Ice cream sounds nice,” she admitted, slowly getting up from her chair. “Oh, but you boys smell. Go hop in the shower quick, all right? I’ll go ask Sarah if she wants to come…”

Joel had already headed off to the bathroom, but Benji had stayed behind. “Actually, Mama, we only have enough money for three ice cream cones,” he admitted sheepishly. A look of understanding crossed her face.

“That’s all right. If Sarah asks where we went, I’ll just say you forgot something in the coach’s van.”

“You would lie for us? Aw, thanks, Mama!” Benji said, wrapping her up in a tight hug.

“Go get in the shower Benjamin.”

“Yes, Mama.” Benji went off down the hall as Robin attempted to finish the shirt she was working on before they left. Benji had to admire his mother’s work ethic. She probably would’ve stayed up all night to finish her job. As he passed the bathroom, he heard Joel singing in the shower. He had to admit Joel didn’t have a bad voice. Doesn’t have a bad ass, either, he thought suddenly. He wrinkled his eyebrows as he tried to figure out where that had come from. As he gathered up a towel and stripped off his shirt, he thought on it some more. Strictly in a nonsexual sense, he did have to admit Joel did have a nice ass. It was a baseball player’s ass, muscular yet softly rounded. He then tried to stare at his own ass in the hallway mirror. Joel’s ass wasn’t better than his, was it? Benji burst into the bathroom. “Joel? Do I have a nice ass?”

Joel pulled aside the shower curtain and gave his brother his best “What the hell did you just smoke?” look. “Why are you asking me, weird boy?” Benji began to say something about the little thought that had popped into his head, but decided it was better not to bring it up.

“I don’t know. I was just wondering.” Yeah, that wasn’t too pathetic. Joel stepped out of the shower, quickly wrapping his towel around his waist. Benji couldn’t help looking at his chest. It was muscular too, his shoulders strong and well defined. “You ever wonder if we’re identical in every way?”

“We’re not, Benji. You know that. I’m taller and I have this little…thing.” Joel pointed to the mole on his cheek. “God, you’re annoying tonight. Just get in the shower so we can go get ice cream. I’m starving.” And with that, Joel was gone and Benji was alone in the steamy bathroom. Benji and that. Gasping, he quickly glanced around even though he knew no one else was in the room with him. Maybe Joel was right. Maybe he was a weird boy. Who else gets turned on by looking at their brother, dripping wet wrapped only in a small pink towel?

“Oh, my god, I just said that my own brother turned me on. No more thinking about this. Baseball. Monkeys. Potholes.” His body calmed down a little bit before he carefully pulled off his pants and stepped into the shower. About half an hour later, Robin, Joel, and Benji were all enjoying cones of different flavors… mint chocolate chip, chocolate and vanilla twist, and rainbow sherbet, respectively. “So Mama, what do you think of your little boys now that they’re going to be rich and famous?” Benji asked, licking around the top of the cone so the melting treat wouldn’t drip down onto his hand.

“You’re not in the big leagues yet, honey, although I don’t think they’d want to turn down the Twin Terrors,” Robin laughed. “I don’t know how I feel. I guess I’m proud, as any mother would be. I’m happy you’re getting out of the house. Now maybe I’ll have some hot water to shower with in the mornings.”

“Mama,” Benji and Joel groaned in unison. They finished up their ice cream and returned home to find Roger’s truck still gone and Sarah asleep on the couch. Both of the twins hugged their mother goodnight before heading off to their room, while she went into her room, ready to finish up her sewing.

“Benji… what did you really mean earlier when you asked me if you had a nice ass?” Joel asked, stretching as he fell back against his pillow. Benji tried to swallow the odd lump forming in his throat but he couldn’t. A slightly awkward silence fell between them. The few feet between their beds suddenly seemed to stretch on for miles and be far too close at the same time. Benji opened his mouth but no words would come out. Joel sat up a little, patiently expecting an answer. Benji had none to give him.

“Nothing, Joel. I’m tired. Good night.” Benji turned off his lamp and crawled beneath his sheets, his back to Joel. Sighing, Joel rolled over in his bed as well, reaching up and fumbling around, finally finding the lamp. He flicked it off and reached down into the crevice between his mattress and the wall. He soon found Blinkie, his beloved teddy bear. Benji didn’t know Joel still had him. If he knew, he would incessantly be teased about it. Sighing again, Joel wrapped the small stuffed animal in his arms and breathed in his scent. The teddy bear was as old as Joel and had had a twin brother too, Winkie, but Benji had ripped him apart by the time he was three. Something was obviously bugging Benji and this time Joel couldn’t tell what it was. Maybe it was all this baseball shit. This kind of pressure could drive anyone crazy. Joel eventually drifted off into sleep, his chin resting on Blinkie’s head.

Chapter Two

The summer passed far too quickly for Joel and Benji. In addition to getting summer jobs at local restaurants, they had grueling practice sessions with Coach Fitzick every Monday and Thursday night; Justin worked with him on Tuesdays and Fridays. They didn’t have time for much else, considering their father made them practice every spare moment they had. However, there was one Saturday night he had headed off to the bar early, leaving Benji and Joel a free evening. They didn’t know what to do with themselves.

Joel lay on his bed, absently throwing a baseball up in the air, his control so perfect that it always came within a centimeter of the ceiling without ever hitting it. Benji was on his hands and knees on the other side of the room digging through their closet for something. He kept cursing under his breath until finally Joel asked, “What the hell are you looking for?” Benji didn’t answer him, just kept rummaging. Joel laid back down, trying to ignore his brother, but he just kept getting louder and louder. Sitting up again, letting the old baseball fall to the floor, he ducked just in time to avoid getting hit in the head with…black stilettos? As he lay there face down on the bed, he saw a pair of fishnet stockings, a black leather vest, black panties, a pair of black gloves with the fingers cut off, and a strand of oversized fake pearls follow the shoes. Benji emerged from the closet, a huge grin on his face. “What the hell is all of this?” Joel asked, horribly confused.

“We’re going to D.C. tonight. They’re playing the “Rocky Horror Picture Show” at midnight at this one theater,” Benji said, crawling over to gather up his costume. He slipped off his shirt and buttoned up his vest and before Joel could turn away he had dropped his pants and boxers and was hurriedly trying to pull them off at the same time. He fell over onto his bed, finally defeating his ensnaring clothing. He quickly yanked up his frilly black panties, and then, a bit more carefully, pulled on his fishnets. Leaning over, he buckled up his shoes and then pulled on his gloves. He put on his pearl necklace last. Joel stared at him, speechless. “Oh, wait, you have to see it with makeup.” Benji began digging through his bedside table for his face paint, lipstick, eyeliner, and eye shadow. Once he was as pale as a vampire, with black lips and thick black eyeliner, his brown eyes surrounded by pink eye shadow, he was done. “Pleased to meet you,” he said, holding out a hand to Joel. He had just a touch of a British accent in his voice. “My name…is Dr. Frankenfurter.”

“You. Need. Help.” Joel couldn’t take his eyes off his twin. This was a whole new level of disturbing.

“No, you need help. Getting dressed.” Joel’s eyes grew wide as Benji pulled a few more things from the closet. “This is your outfit. You get to be Columbia.” All Joel could see was a sequined body suit, black stockings, black high-heeled boots, a big pink sequined bow tie, and a gold sequined fedora. Before he knew it, Benji had dressed him up in his costume and was applying makeup on him. He had dark eyeliner like Benji, and the white face paint, but Benji used only a touch of the pink eye shadow as rogue to highlight Joel’s cheekbones. He handed Joel a tube of bright red lipstick to put on himself. “Damn, you make one sexy Columbia, Joel.”

“You’ve done this before.” Joel put on the lipstick, not exactly sure why he was doing it but doing it anyway.

“Of course I’ve done this before. It’s so much fun! Now hurry up, our ride will be here soon.” Benji checked his makeup once more in the small mirror in their bedroom before creeping out their door and down the hallway. Their mother was already asleep, as was their sister. Heading out the front door, Joel tried to hide behind Benji. He thanked god it was so late out so that no one would have to see him like this. In a matter of minutes an old Pontiac pulled up in front of their house and a familiar face popped out the window, smiling at both of them.

“Who is that?” Joel asked, following Benji down the front walk to the curb. He knew he’d seen the boy before, just not sure where.

“Paul Thomas. He’s gonna be a junior this year. We had study hall together all year, and we’ve been doing this since about, oh, I don’t know, March.” Benji opened the backdoor for his brother, then climbed in behind him. A woman dressed in normal clothing was at the steering wheel. “Hey, Rocky, how are you?” Benji asked, leaning up beside Paul in the front seat.

Joel had only seen the “Rocky Horror Picture Show” once in his life, and he hadn’t paid much attention to it. It was one weird movie, though.. There wasn’t much said as the forty-minute drive to downtown Washington, D.C. commenced, with the exception of Benji occasionally whispering something in Paul’s ear as he stroked his hair. Benji caught some of the odd glances he was getting from Joel and said quietly, “We’re in character, loser. He’s my creation. I love him.” He planted a soft kiss on Paul’s cheek as both he and the woman driving—Joel assumed her to be Paul’s mother—laughed. When at last they reached their destination they quickly got out of the car and stood in line with all the others dressed up in their costumes. Joel was surprised to see how many Dr. Frankenfurters, Columbias, Magentas, and Rockys there were. He noticed the boys dressed up as Rocky were wearing nothing but gold Speedos. Once they had gotten in line, he looked carefully at Paul in the streetlight and saw he was wearing the same thing. From what Joel remembered of the movie, though, Paul pulled off the look best. He had the short, shaggy blonde hair and the same big, innocent eyes. He definitely wasn’t as muscular as the movie Rocky, but he still looked good. Although he was still really nervous about cross-dressing in public like this, Joel was beginning to enjoy himself. The people he met outside the theater were funny and kind and…rushing through the door.

Benji, Joel, and Paul got seats right in the middle of the theater, and within minutes the show began. Everyone was singing along to the songs, and when Brad introduced himself they all shouted out “Asshole!” and when Janet was introduced they shouted out “Slut!” People in costume ran up onstage to act out their favorite scenes in front of the screen, and by the end of the night Joel had laughed so hard his stomach ached. He hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. When the movie ended, he looked over expecting to find Benji and Paul still seated beside him. They weren’t. Panicking, his eyes roamed the packed theater when he caught a glimpse of a large group of people dressed just as they were sitting up on the stage. Someone was going to take a picture. Walking up, he saw someone dressed as Eddie (and looking unusually like Meatloaf) holding up a camera and shouting out, “Ready? One, two, three!” At the end of the count, all the Frankenfurters grabbed their respective Rockys and kissed them full on the lips. The camera snapped and before Joel knew, Paul and Benji were at his side.

“Congratulations, Joel. You’re no longer a virgin,” Paul said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

The entire ride home, all Joel could think about was Benji’s lips on Paul’s. He knew the kiss meant nothing, but the image wouldn’t leave his head. He could ignore all the guys that had hit on him that night, dressed up as he was. Mrs. Thomas dropped them off at their house around three o’clock in the morning. Their father’s truck was still missing in the driveway and they both breathed a sigh of relief. “So, Joel, did you enjoy yourself?”

“Actually, I did. Is that where you went all those Saturday nights when you said you had a hot date?”

“Yeah,” Benji grinned sheepishly.

“And you bought an outfit for me, assuming that I’d just go with you to your little freak fest?”

“Yeah,” he answered again, glad Joel had come with him. They had barely closed the front door behind them when they heard Roger’s truck pull noisily into the driveway. “Shit,” Benji hissed, running down the hall toward their bedroom. Joel tried to follow suit, but he had only taken a few steps when he tripped over something in the darkened living room, his high-heels not helping him any. He cried out in pain and when he tried to stand he discovered he couldn’t put any weight on his left foot. He hobbled into the bedroom just as Roger entered the house. He closed the door quickly and quietly behind him, gasping and biting his lip in pain. “You okay?” Benji asked, pulling off his fishnets. Joel shook his head as he began stripping himself. They had managed to throw everything into the closet and climb into their beds before they heard their father stumble down the hall and into his bedroom, which was right next to the twins’. Joel and Benji waited a few moments in silence before they heard their father snoring loudly before Benji got up, turned on the lamp next to Joel’s bed, and pulled back his sheets. “Let me see your foot, Joel.”

Joel painfully pulled his leg up into Benji’s soft hands, wincing but not crying out in pain as Benji gently poked at his ankle, carefully twisting it a bit. “I don’t think it’s broken, but I think you might have sprained it. Let me go get you some ice.” Benji wandered off into the kitchen as Joel tried to remove his makeup with some tissues. He got most of it off before Benji returned with a Ziploc bag of ice. He stretched Joel’s leg back out and placed the bag on his ankle before covering him with his sheets once more. Then Benji noticed the pile of dirty tissues on the floor next to Joel’s bed. Rolling his eyes, he picked them up and put them in their trashcan. He reached into his bedside table and pulled out a bottle of cold cream and put some on a tissue before lovingly removing the makeup Joel had missed.

“You’re too good to me,” Joel said softly, looking at Benji as Benji began to remove his own makeup.

“Eh, I’m your brother. I do what I have to.”

“Your pearls are still on.” Joel grinned as Benji reached a hand up to his neck and felt his necklace still in place. Smiling, he took them off and placed them in the bedside table next to the bottle of cold cream. “Thanks for taking me tonight. I had a lot of fun.”

“I’m sorry you hurt your ankle.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m just not good in heels.” They both laughed, as Benji brushed some of Joel’s hair out of his eyes. “I know, I need a haircut,” Joel sighed. Benji was always changing his hair. Right now it was reddish in color, short and spiky.

“Go to sleep. I’ll take you to the doctor’s tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

“Fine, I’ll take you to the hospital. Good night, Joel.” Benji flicked off the lamp and got into his own bed.

“Good night, Benji. I love you.”

“Love you too, Joel.” Reaching down into the space between the mattress and wall, Joel pulled out Blinkie and hugged him tightly, hoping that this stupid injury didn’t set him back or mess up his chances of making it in the major leagues. He bit the inside of his cheek as he thought back on the night, wondering what that emotion he had felt when he saw Benji kissing Paul was. Jealousy? No, it couldn’t be.

Benji lay in his bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Joel spraining his ankle was the last thing he needed. What if their dad asked where the injury had come from? What if they got punished for their stupidity? He was trying to make up a story about how it had happened, but all he could think of were lame, baseball-related injuries. Maybe Roger would believe them, maybe not. One thing he knew for sure was that their father would not be happy with it. The evening had been great up to that point. Joel had looked good in his Columbia costume, although he didn’t know how to act like her. If Benji hadn’t known any better, he would’ve sworn Joel was a woman, and a nice-looking one at that. Hell, if he hadn’t known that were his brother and a man at that, he would’ve had sex with that Columbia. Shaking his head, he rolled over onto his stomach and listened to Joel’s slow, even breath. He wondered how his twin could fall asleep so easily when it always took Benji at least half an hour to settle in.

He was just drifting off into sleep as he awoke with a start. He sat up quickly and flicked on his lamp and looked at the small Farside calendar on his nightstand. The draft was in almost two weeks. How would they handle Joel’s sprained ankle? It would not be a good sign to show any weakness or injury now. Sighing, he turned the lamp back off and lay back in bed, his mind unable to stop thinking a mile a minute. Closing his eyes, hoping for sleep—as it was now almost four o’clock in the morning—he realized he had seen Joel hugging something in his arms as he slept. Something small and brown and fluffy. It couldn’t be… Reaching up blindly in the darkness, he found the light switch again and soon discovered that the thing in Joel’s arms was indeed his beloved teddy bear, Blinkie. A small pout crossed Benji’s tired face as he wished he still had his Winkie. He heard Joel shift and moan softly in his sleep. For a moment he wished it were him and not the stuffed animal in Joel’s arms right then.

Benji hadn’t felt like this after graduation, which is when most people take time to reconsider their whole life and ask themselves what they’re going to do for their future. Benji had never thought about that. He had always imagined baseball as his future, and if not baseball, anything other than a nine-to-five, blue collar, yes sir no sir job. He’d rather work as a carney than do that. He knew Joel felt the same way. Life wasn’t ever going to be easy for them, he realized this now as he stared at his ceiling, watching the room slowly lighten with the rising of the sun. He wasn’t going to get any sleep now. He rolled over and looked at Joel in the soft light, smirking a little when he saw Joel’s mouth wide open, a bit of wetness at the corner of his mouth. He looked so innocent in his sleep. He knew the world would make him jaded soon enough. Benji was jaded now. He’d done more than Joel, he’d seen more. This world could be evil. Benji sat up in bed, stretched, then got up and headed into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He’d need a lot of caffeine to stay alert. And the sooner he took Joel to the hospital, the better.

Joel awoke about an hour later, as Benji gently shook him. “Come on, Joel, wakey-wakey. Do you need a shower?” Joel mumbled a negative, wondering why he felt so damn tired. Then he remembered the night before and grinned. “Get up, lazy ass. I have to take you to the hospital.” Benji threw back the covers and took the Ziploc bag—which was nothing but warm water now—and dropped it in the garbage. He pulled a t-shirt and pants out of Joel’s dresser to him and left the room quickly, no doubt on his way to pour another cup of coffee. Joel could always tell when his brother was on a coffee binge. He pulled on the shirt and gritted his teeth as he pulled his black Dickies up over his swollen ankle. It was a bad sprain, he could definitely feel that now. He hobbled his way to his dresser and pulled out a pair of socks, then gave himself a few squirts of cologne. He didn’t want to smell too bad when the doctor examined him. Gimping his way into the kitchen, he flopped down into a chair as Benji poured him a bowl of cereal. He pulled his socks on carefully as Benji poured him some milk.

“Why the hell are you being so nice to me?” Joel asked, digging into his Cinnamon Life. The way Benji was acting was really getting to him. First all that caring for him last night, and this morning with the wake-up call, the way he threw his clothes to him, the way he gave him his favorite cereal without asking? It reminded Joel of the way he acted around girls he had crushes on—the way he’d do anything to get closer to them. That thought freaked him out a bit.

“I just feel really bad about letting you get hurt like that. I shouldn’t have made you come with me.”

“Benj, I had a ton of fun, and besides, you already had a costume for me. I couldn’t just let you go alone while I sat at home staring at the wall.” A bit of milk ran down his chin as he said this and Benji automatically handed him a napkin.

“Where do you keep Blinkie?” Benji asked suddenly. Joel froze, his spoon stuck in his mouth. How did Benji know? And why did he want to know where he kept him? Joel finished chewing the food in his mouth before telling Benji all about his teddy bear. “I wish I still had my little bear. Remember when we were little and we used to make Blinkie and Winkie kiss because they were twins like us and they loved each other?” How very, very odd Benji would think of that and bring it up now. “I miss the good old days, when things were so simple.” He sighed wistfully before chugging down another cup of coffee.

“You and me both, brother.” They finished up their breakfasts and left a note on the table that told their mother where they were going, and about what time they expected to be back. Benji helped Joel out to the car and soon they were off to the nearby hospital, riding in silence. When they arrived, Joel hobbled into the waiting room until a doctor from the E.R. became available to check him out, which didn’t take long. Not much was happening this humid August morning. Joel’s ankle was indeed sprained, but not as badly as the twins had thought it was. As long as he kept it still and didn’t put too much pressure on it, it should be all but healed in two weeks. He brought some crutches out for Joel and adjusted them to his height and said as long as they were returned in good condition, he wouldn’t have to worry about paying anything for them. Both Benji and Joel thanked the doctor before heading home. “What are we going to tell Dad?” Joel asked as they pulled onto their street.

“I don’t know. What can we say? Your ankle wasn’t hurt when he left yesterday. Shit. We obviously can’t tell him the truth. Hey, what if we say you got in a fight?” Joel glared at Benji. “Okay, I know you’ve lost every fight you’ve ever been in, but that’s all I can think of right now.” Benji drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before pulling into the driveway. They immediately noticed Roger’s truck was gone. “Well. We won’t have to deal with this until later. It’ll give us some time to think.” Benji put the car in park and turned it off, running over to the passenger side, ready to help Joel out of the car, but Joel had already managed to climb out by himself. When they entered the house, their mother rushed over to them and immediately asked what happened. There went their hopes for a good excuse.

“We went out for an early morning run at like five-thirty this morning and we were crossing the soccer field in the park and I must’ve stepped in a dip or something and it really messed up my ankle,” Joel said in one breath. He hoped he could convince his mother he was telling the truth. She seemed to believe, almost immediately coddling him and offering to help him lie down on the couch. He laughed and told her he was fine before heading off into the living room on his own.

Their father arrived home about half an hour later and demanded to know why they’d gone to the hospital that morning. Joel told him the same lie he had told his mother and he seemed to believe it as well, but his reactions after that were the complete opposite of their mother’s. “You stupid little bastard. I hope that heals faster than that doctor says because the goddamn draft is exactly two weeks from tomorrow, and no team is gonna want someone who’s injured before the season even starts.” He started pacing the living room in front of Benji and Joel, who were seated on the couch, trying not to make eye contact with him. He continued shouting until he seemed to grow tired of it—an hour later—and abruptly left the house, most likely heading off to his favorite local bar.

“At least he didn’t hit us,” Joel mumbled. There were times in the past when they’d been hit for far less than this. The twins spent the rest of the day laying about the house, thankful they didn’t have work or practice. It had been more than two months since they’d had a day like this. They went to bed early, and got up early the next morning because they had to go to work. Usually, Benji was a dishwasher and Joel was a busboy, but due to his ankle, Joel switched duties with Benji this day. It drove him crazy being stuck in the back room all day with nothing to look at but the bland, salmon-colored walls but it was the only way he could make money and heal at the same time. When they got home at 5:25, they found their father and Coach Fitzick talking in the driveway. “Oh, great, another lecture,” Joel sighed, struggling out of the car.

“Joel, Benji, how are you?” Coach Fitzick asked without waiting for an answer. “Your father called me this morning and told me the news. We’ve been talking it over and we decided it would be best to cut back on your workout routines—both of your routines—until you’re better.” Roger had agreed to that? Fitz probably had to bribe him to get him to agree to that. “For you, Joel, it’ll be mostly upper body stuff, lifting weights, pushups and things like that. Situps and crunches too, and a lot of stretching. Benji, you’ll be doing all that too, plus a little bit of running.”

“I hate to have you slack off like this, this close to the draft, but your Coach says it’s for the best,” their father said, and Benji and Joel could all but see the resentment on his face.

“It’s not like it really matters to the draft, because you don’t have spring training starting until about March, but we’d still like you to stay in good shape for now,” Coach Fitzick added, looking pointedly at their father. Roger, however, completely missed the glare as he was too busy eyeing his sons. The four of them talked for a bit longer before Coach Fitzick headed off to Justin’s to tell him of his reduced workout. Dinner was a quiet matter that night at the Combs household, with little more being said than “Pass the potatoes, please.”

The two weeks dragged by and flew by for Joel and Benji, and on the eve of August 29th, the day of the all-important draft, Joel found himself in bed with Benji once more. He was hoping his brother would grow out of this before they headed off into the real world. Benji needed to deal with his insecurities on his own, no matter how close the two of them really were. Benji was plenty close to Joel now, almost on top of him, breathing softly in his ear. Joel lay there in the dark, wide awake, feeling the wind from the fan on his body and Benji’s breath in his ear. It must’ve been the hottest night in a long time, yet here he was, spooning with Benji. If he didn’t think about the heat, it wasn’t too bad…But you can’t ignore heat like that for too long. He didn’t want to move for fear he’d wake Benji, but luckily Benji rolled over in his sleep and Joel escaped to his own bed, turning the fan onto himself. He fell asleep soon after that.

Benji, however, awoke as soon as he felt Joel’s weight lifted from the bed and after only a few minutes, he crept over to Joel’s bed and fell asleep lying next to him. They awoke the next morning to the sound of their bedroom door being slammed open. “What the fuck are you two doing?” their father yelled, taking in the scene before him. They were both wearing nothing but their boxers, Joel’s arm slung across Benji. He must’ve thrown it there in the middle of the night while still asleep. They both silently admitted it wasn’t a very good-looking scene. Roger burst into the room and all but threw Benji to the floor. “Get up, get up, you goddamn pansy.” He began slapping Benji with his open, callused hands until Benji scrambled to his feet and glared at his father from the other side of the room. “Get ready. Your coach’ll be here in about twenty minutes.” He stormed out of the room, mumbling something under his breath about faggot sons.

Joel jumped out of bed and was soon at Benji’s side, asking him if he was okay. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t wait until we’re out of this house and away from that bastard. If we don’t get signed today, I don’t care. I really don’t. All I know is I’m not coming back here?” What about Mom?, Joel asked. “We’ll make some money somehow, get a house of our own, and then she can come visit us whenever she wants.”

“You mean we’re still going to be living with each other?” Joel asked. A slow grin spread across Benji’s frustrated face as he nodded. Joel sighed. “You know eventually we’ll have to go our separate ways.”

“Who says?” Benji asked. Joel didn’t have an answer for this one. They dressed up in their suits—the only ones they owned—and hurried to the bathroom to do their hair and brush their teeth. They had had the foresight to shower the night before. They had just finished tying their shoes when they heard Coach Fitzick pull into the driveway. Heading out the front door, they expected to see his old minivan sitting there, but instead they were greeted by the sight of a brand new Lincoln town car. It was dark red, almost blood red in color, with a black leather interior. As Benji slipped into the driver’s side and Joel into the passenger side seat in the back of the car, Benji asked, “Where the hell did you get the money for this?”

“I didn’t. I stole it.” Fitzick flashed a quick to them in the rearview mirror as he backed out into the street. Justin turned around in the front seat and told them it was actually his uncle’s car, and that they were borrowing it for the day. “I’m proud of you three. The whole town is. Even if you don’t make it today, we wanted you to ride in luxury.” Fitzick then asked how Joel’s ankle was. It was still in its cast, but he could walk on it now without his crutches, only the tiniest of limps giving his injury away. Before they knew it, they were in D.C., ready to board their plane to New York City.

“Aw, wouldn’t be awesome if we got signed to the Yankees?” Justin asked as they walked through the terminal to their gate. Joel told him they wanted nothing more than to be signed to the Orioles. “Why not the Twins?” Justin grinned, earning him a punch from both of them. All four of them had their carry on bags in hand or slung over their shoulders as they boarded the plane. It was the first plane Benji and Joel had ever been on, and Benji was excited. Looking at him, you didn’t see an eighteen-year-old who was ready to be drafted by Major League Baseball; you saw a five-year-old, bouncing in his seat, his eyes darting everywhere as he took in everything. Joel, on the other hand, was scared out of his mind. This was a big vehicle, which was soon to be airborne. It could come plummeting down out of the sky and they could all die instantly, just like that. His breathing sped up as the plane began warming up. He could feel the engines gently rumbling in his seat. Trying to look on the bright side, he thought that even if they did die, they wouldn’t have to go back to their father in Waldorf. The plane began rolling down the runway and he gripped the arm rest for dear life.

“What’s the matter, Joel? You nervous?” Benji smirked. Joel nodded, biting his lip. “It’s okay, Joel. I’m here.” As if Benji being here could stop the plane from crashing. He somehow maneuvered his arm under Joel’s and rested it beneath his, palm up. Their fingers intertwined and Joel held his hand tightly as the plane began its ascent into the sky. It wasn’t until the plane’s flight leveled off and they were sailing smoothly did he even realize he was holding his twin’s hand. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to let go—if he did it too quickly it might seem as if he didn’t want to touch Benji. Not that he wanted to touch Benji, but hell, they were brothers. If he kept holding his hand…well, it would confuse both of them. Thankfully, Benji solved this dilemma for Joel by reaching down to pull out his CD player. “Time for Green Day,” he said, slipping the headphones over his ears. Joel knew he wouldn’t be able to talk to Benji until his batteries went dead, so he turned to Justin in the seat next to him, only to find Justin had his headphones on as well and wasn’t up for conversation either. Sighing quietly, Joel settled in for the movie he assumed they would be playing. They always had in-flight movies on planes, right? This plane did… “Ace Ventura: Pet Detective.” Joel shifted in his seat a bit before putting on his own headphones to listen to the movie. He liked Jim Carrey.

The movie and the flight were over before Joel knew it. As the plane began its descent he resisted the urge to grab Benji’s hand once again. He’d been silently complaining all morning about Benji being too dependent on him and what trouble that had gotten them when their father found them cuddled up in the same bed. He wouldn’t be a hypocrite and do the same thing to him. He just bit his lip and closed his eyes, praying they wouldn’t smash into the tarmac and die in a horrible flaming wreckage. There was a jolt as the plane’s wheels connected with the ground, but no explosion, no screaming, no death. Joel’s heart was beating rapidly in his chest as he attempted to slow down his breathing.

Benji’s heart was beating at the same pace for a different reason.

It was now just past ten o’clock in the morning and they about three hours to waste until they had to head into an office complex on the lower east side of Manhattan for the draft. Justin suggested they head up to Times Square to check out the Virgin Megastore and MTV. Benji and Joel agreed, more excited to see the music store than the television station. They took the subway from LaGuardia into to Manhattan, but didn’t know exactly where to get off the train, so they picked a random stop in the Manhattan region. It was hot in New York City on this late summer day, and the humidity wasn’t helping much. The four of them hadn’t walked more than a few blocks when they decided to hail a taxi. “Ooh, lemme do it, lemme do it!” Benji said, stepping up to the curb. He held up a hand as a yellow car approached them, then pulled over at the curb. “Yes, on my first try. Who’s good? I’m good. Aw, yeah.” Benji, Joel, Justin, and Coach Fitzick all squeezed into the back seat as Benji told the driver they wanted to head into Times Square. The driver whipped the car around in the opposite direction as he took them to their destination. All four of them lowered their eyes as they realized they had been walking the wrong way.

This city was nothing like Baltimore. It just had an energy, a feeling about it that Baltimore had not. The twins spent at least two hours just looking over the music choices at Virgin while Justin and Fitzick wandered the world-famous Times Square. Before they knew it, two and-a-half hours had gone by and Coach Fitzick rushed into the store and tapped his foot impatiently as they finished buying their new CDs. “We’re going to be late!” he all but shouted as they all but ran from the store. Joel hoped it didn’t look like they were trying to shoplift anything. “We can’t be late to a major league draft. That’s just wrong.” He began digging through his wallet, searching for the card that Bill had sent him in the mail, the card that had the address to the office complex on it. “Benji, get a taxi please.”

“Sure thing, boss.” The first one that he signaled too just drove by him and a small pout crossed his face as he waved his hand for the next one he saw. This one pulled over and Benji said excitedly to Joel, “Hey, that’s two out of three. I’m batting .667 right now.”

“We’re not playing baseball right now, you retard.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re just jealous because you know I’m better than you.” Piling into a taxi once again, they sped off toward their destination after Coach Fitzick had told the driver where they needed to go. The ride was extremely quick—they were where they needed to be within ten minutes. It was great the traffic had lightened up, since lunch hours were over by this time. But once they saw the street outside the building, Benji and Joel thought twice about arriving early or even on time. The street was lined with limousines, stretch SUVs, and pretty much any expensive car ever made. They were in the only yellow car there, the only New York City taxi cab. Justin and Fiztick seemed to be painfully aware of this fact and acted like they were ashamed. To the twins, however, this taxi was a better car than they had ever owned and were happy to even arrive there without the car overheating, running out of gas unknowingly because the fuel gauge was broken, or having to be pushed into a parking spot. Life was good.

Their car finally made it up to the front entrance with two minutes to spare until one o’clock and as Fitzick paid the driver, Joel, Justin, and Benji climbed out of the car, Benji waving to the few paparazzi standing by the door. They immediately snapped his picture, more than once. “How do you do it?” Joel asked through his teeth as yet another flashbulb blinded him.

“You gotta act like you own it,” Benji replied, winking to the one female photographer.

“Own what?” Joel asked, moving quickly down the walkway to the front door as Fitzick stepped up behind them and gave him a little push.

“The town, the city, the people…everything. Act like you own it and people think ‘Hey, wow, look at that guy, he’s so cool.’ Even though everyone knows you’re not cool, Joel. It’s about confidence. You could be the ugliest, smelliest, stupidest guy in the world—no offense, Justin—but as long as you walk the walk, you can do what I do.” Joel told him that was quite the motivational speech, and Benji thanked him. As they walked to the cool air-conditioned building, however, Joel thought of the irony in what Benji had said. If it was all about confidence, then why did Benji still have to crawl in bed with him during bad thunderstorms? And how could Benji expect Joel to act confident when he had to hold his hand when the plane takes off? The only place Joel was confident was in the batter’s box or in the area to the right of second base. It was good advice, but they both knew that it didn’t really apply to Joel. Just Benji. All the thoughts in Joel’s head ceased as they entered a huge lobby, the ceiling a good thirty feet above their heads, black marble tiles beneath their feet. Hundreds of people milled about, all dressed in fine suits, silk ties all shades of the rainbow adorning their shirtfronts. Benji spotted the scout who had discovered them, Lindsay Neagle, and waved to her. She smiled and waved back before continuing her conversation with a rather short man in a gray pinstriped suit.

As they stood there by the door, awestruck, a familiar face approached them. “Benji! Joel! Justin! What’s up, guys!” His hair was no longer dark brown, but was bleached, with the dark roots showing. That’s why it took them a moment to recognize him.

“Riley! What’s up, man? How you been?” Benji asked, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a hug. Joel, still the shy one, simply shook his hand. They talked for a bit, about what they had done over their summers and about today, the big day. After a moment of silence, Riley asked how Joel’s ankle was.

“How the hell did you find out about my ankle?” Joel asked, surprised. He could’ve sworn no one knew about it except his family, Coach Fitzick, and Justin.

“I met this kid down at Virginia Beach while I was on vacation this summer, named Luke. He said he played with you guys and—direct quote—he couldn’t wait to see your sorry scumbag asses not get drafted and have to spend the rest of your days in Waldorf while he went off to Harvard. End quote. Yeah, he knew all about you guys and your injuries.”

“He said he was going to Harvard?” Joel snickered. “He’s going to the community college the next town over. What a dumb fuck.”

“Wait, he didn’t tell anyone else about Joel’s ankle, did he?” Benji asked, nervous. He didn’t want Luke’s fat mouth ruining everything for them.

“He was telling pretty much anyone who would talk to him on the beach. Which wasn’t that many people. Point is, don’t worry about it. It’s only a sprained ankle, right? You’ll be fine. Now come over here, there’s some people I want you to meet.” Riley led the three of them over to a corner of the room where a group of about six guys stood talking quietly. They looked up and greeted Joel, Benji, and Justin with smiles before continuing on with their conversations. “These are some of my friends from Annapolis, and some guys I just met today. They’re all really cool. Hey, guys, I’d like to introduce you all to the Twin Terrors.” Their conversation stopped instantly. Every pair of eyes turned to look at them. “And Justin here is the best pitcher in Class C high schools in Maryland.” Justin actually blushed a little as Riley said this. Riley’s group immediately began asking all of them all sorts of questions, which they could only answer with a few words. There were too many questions coming at them too fast.

A microphone popped on and all of them were treated to the squealing of some feedback. “Oh, sorry about that,” the short man in the pinstriped suit they had seen earlier said, appearing on a raised platform, microphone in hand. “Hello, everyone, my name is Jack Brown, and I am the east coast representative to the commissioner of baseball. We’d like to thank you all for coming here today. Just to let you know, we’ll only be dealing with eight major league teams today, four American League, four National League. I’d like you all to meet Jon Curcio from the New York Yankees, Mark Shear from the Baltimore Orioles, Tom Boris from the Minnesota Twins, and Dave Curtin from the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. We also have Brad Ames from the Florida Marlins, Rob Masar from the Philadelphia Phillies, Roger Clark from the New York Mets, and Eric Gigliotti from the St. Louis Cardinals. Gentlemen, meet the future of baseball.” Jack Brown waved an arm toward all the eager young faces turned up toward him, and Benji tried not to laugh at the cheesiness of the last line he had said.

“We will do this draft lottery style. All the team representatives have overlooked your performance records and your tryout records, and are fully prepared to make their decisions. I shall choose a team at random and they shall announce who they have selected. There will be five rounds of selection today, and five tomorrow. If you are not selected on either of these days, speak to your major league representative and there may be another draft date for you. Are these instructions clear?” The men from the major league teams as well as those down in the group in front of the stage nodded. “Let’s begin.” Jack reached into a bowl and pulled out a slip of paper. “Draft choice one will go to Tom Boris and the Minnesota Twins.”

Justin grinned like an idiot. “If they sign you two, I will suck Riley’s dick,” he joked. Riley raised his eyebrows, but then turned back to the stage. They all held their breaths as Boris stepped up to the microphone and announced his choice. It was no one they knew. Every team went through and made their first round draft picks. Benji and Joel were nervous. Baltimore had chosen one of the other boys that had been at the tryout with them, a boy who—in their opinion—wasn’t as good as they were. As the second round commenced, they were all shocked to hear Jon Curcio of the New York Yankees announce Justin Twichell as his choice. Justin’s eyes widened in surprised as he walked as slowly as a zombie toward the stage. He had been wanting this, wanting to play with the Yankees, for as long as he had been playing baseball. Now he might have the chance. He stepped up, shook Curcio’s hand, smiled for the photographers and the cameras, then took the New York jersey he was handed. He walked back down to stand with his friends as if he were in a fog. There was a faraway look in his eyes. Benji and Joel slapped him on the back, congratulating him profusely. His dream was that much closer to coming true.

The Orioles optioned to skip over their third round choice, for some reason. And by now the twins were sweating bullets. They wanted nothing but the Orioles. Would they be as happy playing for the Devil Rays? Hell no. Their heartbeats quickened when they heard a name very similar to Joel’s called for the Phillies. As the fourth round rolled around, they were trying hard not to look so nervous, so sad. Why would everyone tell them they were so good if in reality they sucked? It didn’t make sense. Mark Shear from the Orioles stepped up to the microphone and Benji closed his eyes. He was silently praying to god that this was it, this would be the time when his name was called. “Ladies and gentlemen, I chose to skip over my third round draft pick because I wanted to sign two very talented boys at once.” Benji’s heart stopped. This had to be it. He looked over at Joel out of the corner of his eye to find Joel’s face completely emotionless. “Benjamin and Joel Combs, please step up to the stage.” Benji’s heart exploded as he walked toward the few steps leading up to the raised platform. Joel was having trouble finding breath as he followed Benji up the steps. However, as Benji’s toe caught the edge of the top step, he tripped and fell flat on his face and Joel couldn’t help but laugh. The large crowd behind them laughed too. Benji, blushing, stood up and took a bow, earning him a round of applause. “You won’t be that clumsy on the field, will you?” Shear asked. Benji shook his head while smiling. Shear handed each of them a brand new white and orange Orioles jersey. The cloth felt so right against their skin. They posed for the necessary pictures before stepping back down into the crowd with Justin and Riley.

“Holy shit, you did it,” Justin said, hugging each of them tightly. “And signed to the same team, no less. Way to go.” Joel embraced Riley in tight hug after he was finished hugging Benji. They couldn’t stop hugging.

“Aw, wouldn’t it be awesome if Riley got signed to one of the teams we’re on?” Benji asked, his face still a little red. Riley’s grin grew a bit wider when he heard this, and he agreed it would indeed be awesome. Suddenly, Coach Fitzick burst out of the group of people standing behind them and embraced Justin, Joel, and Benji all in one huge hug.

“You boys have no idea how extremely proud I am of all you!” he said. Joel could swear he saw tears in his coach’s eyes.

“Hey, we wouldn’t have gotten this far if not for you,” Benji said. Joel and Justin nodded in agreement. Fitzick thanked them before applauding for the next boy up onstage who was just signed to the Devil Rays. By the time they made it out of the office complex and were in their hotel room, all three of them were exhausted. They had been congratulated by complete strangers, and had congratulated complete strangers. They had grabbed a quick dinner at a small diner off Broadway and were now lounging on their king sized beds.

“Do you guys want to stay here tomorrow and see the other part of the draft, or do you want to go home?” Fitzick asked. Joel wanted to go home so he could tell his mother and all his friends in person the amazing news, but then remembered Riley. He hadn’t been drafted this day. Joel said this, and Benji and Justin both said they thought they should stay for the second day as well. “All right, we’ll stay. And we’ll have some more time to enjoy the city tomorrow.”

The sleeping arrangements for that night were Benji and Joel on one king sized bed in one bedroom, Justin and Coach Fitzick in the other bedroom. And even though the bed was big enough for their entire family, Benji still managed to be right next to Joel. “Is it just me, or did everything today seem to go by really quickly?” he asked, his breath hot in Joel’s ear.

“It did go by really quickly,” Joel replied, shifting a bit, trying to get Benji to take the hint that he was too close. Benji, of course, ignored it. “I can’t believe we’re going to be playing baseball for a living.”

“Dreams do come true!” Benji whispered excitedly.

“Shut up, you ass.” Joel’s insult indirectly led to him thinking about that night not so long ago when Benji had asked him if he had a nice ass. Maybe telling him he did now would shut him up and let Joel get some sleep. “And you do have a nice one, okay?”

There was a moment of silence before Benji caught on to what he was saying. “Aw, thanks, J! I knew you’d be honest with me. You have no idea how hard it is to check out your own ass.”

“How long did you try to look at your own ass, Benji?”

Another moment of silence. “Like, half an hour.”

“You wasted half an hour trying to look at your own ass.”

“You already said it was a nice ass. The time was not wasted.”

“Go to sleep, damn it.” Joel finally shoved Benji off of him before curling up on the edge of the bed. Benji began to say something more, but decided it was best not to. Joel could be very grumpy if he didn’t get enough sleep. He was glad Joel had pushed him away, too. That thing was back. He could feel his face burning again as he blushed in the dark. This was the second time talk of asses with his brother had turned him on. Life was as good—and confusing—as it could be for Benji right now.

The morning found them much more relaxed and refreshed. They showered, dressed, and spent the morning doing the typical tourist things. They visited the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty, traveled up to the Bronx to see Yankee Stadium, and down to Queens to see Shea Stadium. By the time they made it back to Manhattan, it was just past noon, so they grabbed lunch at an Indian restaurant before heading back to the spot where the draft was being held. Benji blabbed on and on about how amazing the food was—as there was no Indian food in or around Waldorf—while Joel just nodded, pretending to care about what his twin was saying. He was more worried about Riley. Riley was a good player too. If he didn’t get signed, the world was doing him a grave injustice.

It was ninth round pick time and Riley still hadn’t been chosen. You could still see the excitement and hope in his expression, but the smile had faded a bit. Finally, last round until next spring began, and once more Shear stepped up to the microphone. “Riley Munio, welcome to the Baltimore Orioles organization.” Benji and Joel had to physically stop themselves from running up onstage to congratulate him. Riley had been a good friend to them so far. Now they would have much more time to get to know him. They all celebrated by going out and getting ice cream.

“I feel like I’m ten again. ‘Good job, Joel, you hit that ball right off that tee!’” Joel joked. “’Let’s go get you some ice cream!’”

“Hey, don’t underestimate the power of ice cream,” Riley warned. They spent the rest of the afternoon together before Coach Fitzick informed them they would be flying home on the 6:10 flight to D.C. They said their goodbyes before rushing off to the hotel to gather up their things and rushing down to a subway station to catch a train out to LaGuardia. “Start spreading the news…I’m leaving today,” Joel began singing.

“I want to be a part of it, New York, New York,” Benji finished. By six o’clock they were on the plane and Joel promised himself he wasn’t going to be so scared when the plane took off and landed this time. He clutched his fingers in his lap this time, his knuckles white from the pressure he was putting on them. Benji reached over and gave him a smile before placing his hand on top of Joel’s. Joel returned his smile with a weak grin. He’d have to get used to flying if they made the majors. There were a lot of road trips to be had.

The plane landed in Washington just after eight o’clock, and by nine they were home, Benji all but jumping up and down as he told his mother the good news. “That means you’ll be leaving me soon, doesn’t it?” Robin asked, tears glimmering in her eyes.

“Oh, Mama, don’t cry,” Joel begged, wrapping his arms around her. She cried anyway, as Benji and Joel struggled to hold back their own tears. “Be happy, Mama. We’re going to be doing what we love.”

“I am happy, honey, I am. Just promise me something.”

“Anything, Mama,” Benji said.

“Be good boys. Play hard, play fair, stay out of trouble. Don’t smoke, don’t drink, don’t do drugs.”

They promised her they’d follow her wishes, but they both knew that they couldn’t follow all of them. As a matter of fact, they went out on the town that night and got wasted, Joel dragging Benji’s unconscious form into the bedroom at four in the morning. This wasn’t necessarily a good thing, as they had to work the next day, but they had felt the need to celebrate.

A new, better chapter of their lives was about to begin.