Full-Court Press Page 4

  I dug back into the can and found a light blue drink and handed it to him. It looked only slightly different from the dark blue.

  Up next was a dad who needed three waters, one soda, and one blue sports drink.

  “Dark blue or light blue?” I asked.

  “What’s the difference?” he said.

  I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.” I reached in and grabbed the first blue drink I saw and handed it to him.

  The line never seemed to end. My hands started to get numb from plunging them into the ice over and over again. Finally, Mrs. Friedman came by and tapped me on the shoulder.

  “Thanks for helping, Elle,” she said. “Now go back and watch your brother’s game.”

  I hurried back to the bleachers.

  “Where’s my popcorn?” Avery asked.

  I groaned. “Oh man, I’m sorry! It’s insane in there. I never knew what Mom went through when she worked the shack.”

  Hannah nudged me. “Is that your brother with the ball?”

  I looked down on the field. There was Jim, running down the field with two Pirates on his heels. I leaped to my feet.

  “Go, Jim!” I yelled. “Go, go, go!”

  Jim rocketed down the field for a total of forty-three yards, all the way into the end zone.

  “TOUCHDOWN!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, and Avery hugged me. We started jumping up and down.

  By the end of the game, which the Nighthawks won 28–14, my voice was hoarse from screaming for Jim. I ran down to the field so I could slap his hand as he made his way back to the locker room. I held my hand out, and he stepped out of line and gave me a big squeeze. A big, sweaty squeeze. Then he put me down and jogged off with the rest of the team.

  That’s when I actually started to cry. What was I going to do when my big brother went off to college? I was going to miss him so much!

  I felt Dad’s hand on my shoulder. “Come on, Elle, it’s late. Jim will meet us back home.”

  Mom, Dad, and I were all quiet on the ride home. I knew they must be feeling happy and sad at the same time, like I was. But it wasn’t an easy thing for any of us to talk about.

  When we got home and Mom opened the front door, Zobe bounded out and jumped up on me.

  “I should walk him,” I said, yawning.

  “Just bring him out in the backyard, Elle,” Dad said. “I think that’s the best thing to do from now on, since it’s getting dark so early.”

  I didn’t argue. I went outside with Zobe and played a quick game of catch with him before going back inside. I was sweaty from all the cheering, excitement, and working in the Snack Shack, so I took another shower.

  I wanted to stay awake until Jim came home from celebrating with the team, but I couldn’t. I was exhausted. I fell asleep, dreaming of my brother running over the goal line with the football in his hand.

  6

  A Surprise in the Stands

  I woke up the next morning to the sound of my cell phone pinging. I’d been so tired the night before that I’d forgotten to shut it off and charge it.

  I picked it up and saw that it was 10:17 a.m., I had thirteen percent battery left, and Avery had texted me.

  Can I come meet Zobe today?

  I stared at the text for a minute, blinking. Zobe! I needed to feed him and take him for his morning walk.

  My mind raced as I tried to figure out how to answer Avery’s question. After I walked Zobe, I still had homework to do. I hadn’t gotten any done yesterday because of Jim’s game.

  I really wanted to hang with Avery, but I knew I had to focus on school. If Avery came over, we would end up talking or binge watching that dating show that she likes, and I wouldn’t get anything done.

  Sorry, I texted back. Can’t today, busy with homework. Maybe next week?

  Avery replied. Then she sent me a gif of a dog jumping up to catch a ball in his mouth.

  My stomach rumbled, and I realized how hungry I was. I threw on sweatpants and a T-shirt and went downstairs, where the smell of bacon made my stomach rumble again. I found Jim in the kitchen, cooking a mountain of bacon in one frying pan and another mountain of eggs in the other.

  “Mom and Dad are in Philly with Beth, seeing one of her specialists,” Jim told me. “Dad told me to tell you he walked Zobe this morning. But he wants you to walk him again at lunchtime. After you fold the laundry.”

  I nodded. “Sure. I just need to eat something.”

  “Too bad I didn’t make extra,” Jim said, and then he grinned. “Come on, eat with me.”

  “Great game last night,” I told him as we both sat down at the kitchen table, our plates full of food.

  “Thanks!” he said. “There was terrific energy on the field, you know?”

  I nodded. “I felt it.”

  “I’m going to try to go to your game tomorrow,” Jim said. “I haven’t seen you play yet this season.”

  I laughed. “You’re not missing much. Except me always messing up because I can’t control my own legs.”

  “You know that the same thing happened to me too, Elle,” Jim said. “This won’t last forever. Don’t sweat it.”

  I was grateful to Jim for saying that, but I felt a twinge of sadness at the same time. A year from now, he wouldn’t be around to make me breakfast and give me pep talks.

  I finished my eggs and bacon and stood up. “I’m going to go fold that laundry,” I said. “Need help cleaning up?”

  “Nah, I got it,” Jim replied.

  I went to the laundry room and picked up a big basket of clean laundry—sheets and towels that I brought upstairs to my room to fold because it’s easiest to do when I can spread it out on my bed. I played some music on my phone as it was charging, and I got into a decent groove. Then I put everything away in the linen closet.

  By the time I was done, Zobe was restlessly following me, so I took him for a quick walk to the park. I still needed to get my homework going, so I didn’t ask Blake to come with me.

  Believe it or not, I was hungry again when I got back, so I made a sandwich. My parents still weren’t home, but I knew that Beth’s doctor appointments could take a long time, and the traffic from our town in Delaware to Philly could be brutal.

  After my sandwich, Zobe and I settled down in my room. The first thing I did was try to schedule out my homework. I had to read two extra chapters of the novel over the weekend to catch up, and my history project outline was due Monday. I decided to read first to get that out of the way.

  I had finished one chapter when Jim knocked on my door, a basketball clutched under his arm.

  “Hey, do you want to do some drills with me?” he asked. “I mean, if you’ve got time.”

  I didn’t have time, really. But I’d been so bummed out, thinking about Jim going off to college, that I couldn’t say no.

  I slammed my book shut. “Just for a little while,” I said. “I’m supposed to be doing homework.”

  Zobe jumped up too—he wanted to come with us, but I had to disappoint him.

  “Sorry, Zobe,” I told him. “The hoop is out front, and I can’t have you running around outside without a leash.”

  I swear he frowned at me, like he knew exactly what I had just said.

  Outside, Jim showed me some drills he remembered from his basketball days. They were pretty much like the ones Coach Ramirez had shown us, but it was more fun doing them with Jim.

  We hadn’t been drilling for long when Blake appeared, holding a basketball under his arm.

  “Jim’s showing me some drills,” I said. “Want to join us?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Blake said. “I am totally bored today.”

  “I’ll guard the basket, and you two take turns trying to make layups,” Jim suggested.

  I dribbled toward the basket first. Normally, I can’t get past Jim. But now that I was six feet tall, it was easier. I jumped up as high as I could and sent the ball swishing through the net.

  Blake and I took turns trying to get
past Jim, trash-talking each other and laughing the whole time. Then a horn honked. Mom and Dad were pulling into the driveway in the minivan.

  Sweaty and panting, Jim, Blake, and I stood aside. When Dad stopped the car we helped get Beth and her wheelchair out of the van.

  “How’d it go?” Jim asked.

  “Just a long day of testing,” Mom said. “Beth was missing Zobe, though. She kept signing ‘dog’ to me.”

  “Aw!” I said. I leaned down to greet Beth. Then I nodded to Blake. “See you later.”

  “Back to boredom!” he said, and dribbled his basketball back home.

  I wheeled Beth inside. “Zobe awaits!”

  I spent some quality time with Zobe and Beth while Dad made dinner—his specialty, Italian food, which he always cooks for me the night before a game. It’s our tradition. Pretty soon the house smelled like garlic, basil, and tomatoes, and my stomach was growling again. Luckily, Dad called out that it was dinner time before the growls got loud enough to scare Zobe.

  Dad had made chicken parmesan, spaghetti marinara, garlic bread, and a salad. I don’t like to eat much on a game morning—just half a bagel with peanut butter, to give me energy without weighing me down. But the night before a game I eat a big meal, to make sure I’ve got enough energy in reserve. I don’t know if it’s scientific, but it seems to work for me.

  That night’s dinner was delicious, and we all talked about Jim’s exciting touchdown. When it was done, I ran around with Zobe in the backyard, showered, and put on pjs. I climbed into bed and picked up my book for English again, but my eyes started to droop.

  Game tomorrow morning, I reminded myself. Better get some sleep.

  Then I put down my book, set my alarm for 6:30, and conked out.

  • • •

  Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

  I groaned at the sound of the alarm, and then I felt a warm tongue on my cheek.

  “Come on, Zobe,” I said. “You’re part of the pregame routine now.”

  I’d been doing my own ritual before the game, ever since I’d read that WNBA players all have them. Normally, I’d wake up at seven, but now I had to work Zobe into the mix.

  I threw on some sweats and headed outside with Zobe on his leash for a quick walk to the park. Then I fed Zobe and headed outside for thirty minutes of informal shootaround practice in the driveway. After that I showered, ate my half a bagel with peanut butter, and then napped for half an hour. The rest of my family knows this whole routine by heart, so nobody bothered me while I was doing it.

  By 10:15 I was awake again, and got dressed for the game. I put on my jersey. Then I put on my socks and shoes. Then I put my right foot through one leg of my shorts, and then my left foot through the other. That’s because I wanted to make sure I started off each game on the right foot.

  At 10:30, Mom, Dad, Jim, and I piled into the van to drive to the game. Our first game had been away, but this time the Edgewood Eagles were coming to our gym at Spring Meadow. My right knee bounced up and down with nervous energy as we got closer to the school. I had to prove to everyone that I was not Runaway Train!

  When we entered the gym, Mom gave me a hug.

  “You’ll do great!” she said.

  Jim fist-bumped me. “Don’t worry, Elle. You’re gonna kill it out there.”

  Dad grinned. “I agree!”

  “Thanks!” I said, and then I ran out onto the court, where the team was warming up. I grabbed a ball and started dribbling when I heard a familiar voice from the stands.

  “Elle! Elle! I see you!”

  I looked up to see Pete, the kid from the after-school program. I remembered him telling me that he came to the games.

  “Hi, Pete!” I called back.

  Caroline walked up to me. “My brother loves you,” she said.

  “Your brother?” I asked. Then it hit me. “Pete is your brother?”

  She grinned. “Yeah,” she replied. “He had fun with you at Camp Cooperation. He was so excited today when we were getting ready for the game. He kept saying, ‘I get to see Elle!’ ”

  “Aw, that’s sweet,” I said. “I had fun hanging out with him.”

  “He’s a super sports freak,” she said. “He’s the one who kept saying I should join the team last year.”

  Then she frowned. “Too bad I’m always on the bench.”

  I wanted to say something to make Caroline feel better, because Coach did keep her on the bench most of the time, and I wasn’t sure if that was fair. But before I could say anything, Coach Ramirez called out to us.

  “Two lines, girls! Shooting drill!”

  We quickly split up into two groups of five and lined up on the free throw lane lines. The first two players ran up to the free throw line and took turns shooting. Then each player ran to the back of the other line—the line they hadn’t started from. This way, everyone got to take shots from both sides of the baskets. We kept doing that, running and shooting, until the ref blew his whistle, signaling the start of the game.

  Coach Ramirez called us together. “Okay, I want Elle on center; Bianca’s my shooting guard; Avery, point guard; Tiff, power forward; and Patrice, you’re my small forward. Let’s do this!”

  We all clapped hands and yelled out, “Nighthawks!” Then the five of us jogged out onto the court.

  I lined up across from the Eagles center for the tip-off at center court. As usual, I stood almost a foot taller than the other center. The ref approached us.

  “Ready?” he asked, and we both nodded.

  He tossed the ball up, and I jumped up and grabbed it with both hands. I saw Avery streak past me like lightning, so I passed it to her. She dribbled it a few feet, then stopped as one of the Eagles came toward her. She passed it sideways to Bianca, who dribbled it to the basket for a layup. Two points Nighthawks!

  That first move got my blood pumping, and I was excited about the way we were playing like a team. The Eagles had the ball next, and I jumped up and stopped a girl from making a shot. I passed the ball to Tiff, who dribbled it up to the three-point arc and made a perfect shot. Nighthawks 5, Eagles 0!

  Our great start took a slight detour when we had control of the ball next and Bianca made a shot that bounced off the rim. I think all ten players went for the rebound, but my height gave me an advantage and I scooped it out of the air. Three Eagles immediately surrounded me and raised their arms in the air to block me, so I quickly crouched down and passed it between them, right to Patrice, who was clear.

  Patrice grabbed it with both hands and dribbled it away from the basket to get clear. Then she stopped and began to set up her shot, but changed her mind when her defender got too close, so she started dribbling again. The ref blew his whistle. Patrice had put two hands on the ball, so she wasn’t supposed to dribble again. The Eagles got the ball.

  It was kind of a rookie mistake, even though I know we’re only in seventh grade. I wondered if maybe she was feeling extra pressure because her mom was our coach; I know that would stress me out. In any case, the Eagles scored after that, and we ended the quarter 5–2.

  Coach Ramirez kept me in after that, and even though she switched out Hannah for Bianca and Caroline for Tiff, she kept in Patrice. That made no sense to me at all, because Patrice wasn’t really playing her best.

  Even so, I was happy to see Caroline off the bench. The first time I got the ball Caroline was open, so I passed it to her. She dribbled it up to the basket and made a shot, but it bounced off the rim. Hannah got it back and quickly sank it.

  I scored three times in the second quarter—once when we had control of the ball, and once when one of the Eagles elbowed me and I got to shoot a free throw.

  When halftime came, I was panting and sweaty, and the score was Nighthawks 14, Eagles 8. Coach kept me out for the third quarter, because league rules specify that no player can play more than three quarters in a game, unless the team is short players. Both teams scored in the third quarter, but we still kept a strong lead: 21–14.

  Coac
h Ramirez put me back in the game in the fourth quarter. I bolted onto the court, excited to finish the game. In the first five minutes, I got a traveling violation. This time, I pivoted on my right foot to turn away from an Eagles defender. But then I lifted up my right foot when I turned around again to face the basket.

  “Focus, Elle!” Coach yelled.

  I grimaced, and I let it get to me. A few minutes later, Avery passed me the ball from the sidelines. I spun around to avoid the Eagles player covering me and lost my balance. I fell forward on my knees, and the ball spilled out of my hands and one of the Eagles picked it up. I felt awful. But Coach kept me in until the end, even though our lead narrowed. And we still won the game, 30–26.

  After the game, Pete ran down the bleachers to hug Caroline. Then he gave me a big hug too!

  “Great job, Elle!” he said.

  “Thanks, Pete,” I replied, and then I noticed Mom and Dad had come down from the bleachers and were behind us.

  “Are you coming back to see us?” Pete asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m waiting to find out if I can.”

  I looked at my parents. “This is Pete, from the after-school program. He’s Caroline’s brother.”

  “Nice to meet you, Pete,” Dad said, and shook his hand. Then Pete ran back to his parents.

  Mom and Dad exchanged glances.

  “I suppose you can give volunteering a try, Elle,” Mom said. “It sounds like a wonderful program.”

  “As long as you keep up with your schoolwork,” Dad said.

  I smiled. “I will! I promise!”

  Avery ran up to us. “Everyone’s going for pizza. Mom said she’ll drive us.”

  I looked at my parents again.

  “Go!” Mom said. “Have fun!”

  I gave her a sweaty hug and left the gym with Avery. Soon we were in Sal’s Pizzeria, diving into the pies that Coach Ramirez had ordered ahead for us. Since I had only had my usual half-bagel breakfast that morning, I wolfed mine down.

  I had taken a seat next to Caroline, because I wanted to tell her the good news that I was allowed to volunteer for Camp Cooperation.

  “So Mom and Dad said I could do it,” I told her. “Do you volunteer every Tuesday and Thursday?”