by Phil Bildner
I took the inbounds and brought the ball upcourt. When I crossed the timeline, I hit Wil on the left and cut right, setting a screen for Maya. She ran off my shoulder and caught Wil’s pass by the top of the key. I kept on moving toward the corner and set a back screen for Chris as Maya threw a pass to Jeffrey inside the paint.
“Roll, roll,” I said to Chris.
He ran off my pick, and just like I’d hoped, Jeffrey spotted him along the baseline and fed him the ball. Chris sank the layup.
“That’s how we roll!” I leaped.
All five Clifton United had touched the ball.
“Bench Mob!” Red, Max, and Tiki chanted on the sidelines. They stood on the first row of the bleachers and waved towels. “Bench Mob!”
“Find your man!” I said to my teammates. “Press, press!”
With my basketball eyes, I spotted my man breaking downcourt for a long pass. I could tell he thought he had me beat, but he didn’t know he was up against the Gnat. At midcourt, he stopped for the pass, but he didn’t jump for it. I leaped in front of him and snatched the ball out of the air.
Suddenly, in my head, I was back in my bedroom, making magical moves with my Nerf. As soon as I landed, I put the ball on the floor. With my head up, I charged downcourt, weaving around one man and darting past another. At the foul line, I crossover-dribbled and then drove down the lane. But I left my feet a step too soon, so instead of putting up a layup, I had to shoot a teardrop. As the ball left my fingers, a Wolves big man smacked my arm and knocked my body.
Tweet! Tweet!
“Good if it goes!” the ref called, raising his arm.
It went.
“Who’s your daddy?” I shouted.
“Bench Mob!” our entire bench cheered. “Bench Mob!”
“Way to go, Mason Irving!” Red jumped in circles.
I raced to the sideline and met him with a double high five as he hopped off the bleachers.
“Roll left, roll right,” we chanted. “Slap right, slap left.” We jumped, bumped hips, and on the landing …
“Boo-yah!”
* * *
At halftime, we didn’t meet as a team, but it wasn’t because we were up 18–8 and didn’t need to. Well, maybe it was a little, but it was really because Coach Acevedo said he had to meet with someone. So Mehdi’s dad stayed with us in the gym as we shot around.
Right before the start of the second half, we found out who Coach Acevedo had to meet with: Avery. When he came back into the gym, she was with him.
“Avery Goodman!” Red shouted. He spun to me. “Avery Goodman’s here, Mason Irving.”
Avery wheeled onto the court and hockey-stopped by Red. “I’m friggin’ pumped,” she said, smacking her armrest. “My first away game.”
“Way to go,” I said.
She looked my way. “Dude, I heard you’re putting on a show.”
“You’ll have to see for yourself,” I said.
“Check these out,” she said, grabbing her bag off the back of her chair. “I designed them myself.”
She reached in and pulled out a navy T-shirt. Across the front in yellow letters, it read BENCH MOB.
“Boss!” I said.
“There’s one for everyone.” She tossed the shirt to Red.
He caught it and hopped from foot to foot. “Boss, Avery Goodman.”
* * *
Wearing our new Bench Mob T-shirts, Wil, Maya, Chris, Jeffrey, Red, Max, and I stood on the front row of the bleachers as Clifton United’s first unit took the floor to start the second half.
We scored on our first possession, extending our lead.
“U-ni-ted!” we cheered. “U-ni-ted!”
But just like in the first half, the Wolves were able to break our press, keep our first unit off balance, and take advantage of our turnovers. Five minutes into the second half, they’d trimmed our lead to six.
So Coach Acevedo went back to the Bench Mob.
I pulled off my shirt and threw it at Avery. “Hold this,” I said.
“Dude,” she said, batting it away.
Then Jeffrey threw his shirt at her. Then Chris did. Then Maya did.
“That’s the thanks I get?” she said, ducking and smiling.
I scooped up the basketball by the scorer’s table and headed onto the court.
“Hold on a sec,” Coach Acevedo said. He finger-waved the Bench Mob back. “I’m shaking things up again. Wil, we’re going to have you stay on the bench a little longer.” He pointed to Tiki. “You stay in and play the two guard.” He spun to me. “Rip, you’re our floor leader. Run the point.”
“You got it, Coach.” I pounded the basketball.
The new-look Bench Mob took the floor. Tiki and I were playing together.
“Go, Takara Eid!” Red shouted. “Go, Mason Irving!”
I took the inbounds pass from under our basket and dribbled up the floor. Crossing midcourt, I spotted Maya, running along the baseline. From beyond the three-point circle, I whipped an off-the-dribble, laser-like pass that buzzed by five outstretched hands. Maya caught my bullet, and without stopping, she flipped up the ball and sank a reverse layup.
“Boo-yah!” I hammer-fisted the air.
“Great pass!” Maya yelled.
The Wolves inbounded quickly—that’s how they had been breaking the press against our first unit.
But not against the Bench Mob.
Tiki was on that pass the moment it left the Wolves player’s fingers. Out of nowhere, she plucked the ball from the air. But her momentum carried her to the corner. As she was about to fall out of bounds, she spun and underhand-passed to me. I caught the ball, and once again, I saw that Maya was about to be wide open. But before I threw the rock her way, my basketball eyes spotted Tiki, bolting for the basket. I fired a one-handed bounce pass. She caught it chest high and buried the layup.
“Bam!” Red jumped in circles. “Oh, yeah, Mason Irving!”
“Dude!” Avery popped a wheelie and did a three-sixty.
No lie, we were looking like a middle school team. No, we were looking better than a middle school team.
“Prestanderous!” Tiki shouted. She raced up to me and held out both fists.
I gave her a double pound.
“BTW,” Tiki said, “prestanderous isn’t my word. It’s a word a kid made up on this show I love.”
* * *
We won by seventeen. Thanks to the Bench Mob.
Clifton United was now 5–0.
Sentencing
Friday morning. Principal Darling’s office.
“Let’s get right down to this,” she said once everyone was seated around the conference table. “I don’t think any one of us wants to be here longer than we have to be.”
Mom and I sat at the far end of the table. Mom was doodling on her yellow legal pad, I was staring at Red. He sat facing the door with his shoulders hunched, and by the way his arms moved, I could tell he was pinky-thumb-tapping his bouncing legs. Ms. Yvonne was on one side of Red, Suzanne on the other. Suzanne had her hand on his shoulder.
“Sit still,” Diego’s mom said to Diego, who was swinging his hat strings.
Diego put his head down and rested his chin on the table.
“We’ll start with you, Rip,” Principal Darling said.
I let out a long puff. I would’ve bet my throwback Iverson jersey I was going to have to speak first.
If you ever get busted doing something stupid, I hope you have the good sense to admit it.
Mom’s words were again on full blast inside my head.
“We broke the rules,” I said. “We understood what would happen if we got caught. We all did.”
I didn’t make eye contact with anyone as I spoke. Except for Mr. Acevedo, who was next to Principal Darling.
“We decided not to use a cell phone because of what happened last year,” I went on. “But we all knew it was the same thing. We all did. We—”
“It was the first time I ever felt included,” Tiki interrupte
d.
“Tiki, you’ll have your chance,” Principal Darling said. “Please be patient.”
“I’d never been included before.” She kept going anyway. “Not like this. It was the first time I ever felt like I was part of something.”
“Tiki, please,” Principal Darling said. “I need you to wait—”
“It’s okay,” I said, nodding. “I was almost done.”
I wasn’t. Not even close. But for the first time, I wanted to hear what Tiki had to say.
“I’d never been to a school where the kids knew the lunch ladies’ names, and I’ve been to a lot of schools. A lot.” She was … whimpering? “They just wanted the Lunch Bunch back. I wanted to help them. They cared about them so much. How could I not help?”
I checked Tiki’s parents. Both her mom and her dad were here. Her dad was wearing a polo shirt, but in my mind’s eye, I’d always pictured him wearing a suit and having a beard. But he didn’t have a beard either. He had his hand on top of Tiki’s, which was resting on the table. Whenever her voice cracked, he squeezed her fingers.
“The funny thing is,” Tiki said, “Rip doesn’t even like me.” She looked my way. “You don’t. You hated me from the moment I walked into…” She covered her mouth. “Sorry for using the H word.”
“No, I didn’t,” I whispered. I folded my arms and shook my head. “I didn’t.”
“You let me be a lookout with Red,” she said. “I knew we really weren’t doing much, but I didn’t care. You were letting me be a part of it.”
I peeked over at Red. His face was squinched into a knot. Suzanne was rubbing his neck. I lowered my hands, locked my fingers under the table, and pressed them against my leg.
“Then I ruined it.” Tiki started crying. “For everyone. I blew it.”
Tiki’s dad began to cry, too. Tears streamed down both cheeks. He didn’t make any effort to wipe them away.
“We want the Lunch Bunch back, Principal Darling,” I said. “RJE isn’t the same without them. Lunch isn’t … It doesn’t feel like RJE anymore.”
Red opened his eyes. “Everyone misses Ms. Eunice, Ms. Carmen, Ms. Joan, Ms. Audrey, and Ms. Liz,” Red said. “Takara Eid misses the Lunch Bunch, and she never met the Lunch Bunch.”
The grown-ups chuckled.
“The cafeteria used to be awesome.” I unlocked my fingers. “The Lunch Bunch used to play music during grab-and-go, and they sang and danced when they served lunch. The food was a gazillion times better, too.”
“The food now is foul,” Avery said.
“Sometimes they got dressed up in costumes,” I went on, “and sometimes Ms. Audrey and Ms. Eunice would play kickball and four square with us at recess.”
“They taught us things,” Diego said.
“They did.” I nodded. “We learned all about landfill garbage, recycling, and composting. We compost at home now. Right, Mom?”
“We do,” she said. “Rip’s turned into quite the stickler. I don’t dare put something in the garbage that can be recycled or composted.”
“Thanks, Rip,” Principal Darling said. She turned to Avery. “Is there anything you want to add?”
Avery motioned to me with a twisted paper clip. “Rip said everything.”
“You have nothing at all to say?” her mother asked.
“What do you want me to say?” Avery shrugged. “The Lunch Bunch was like family.”
“Diego, what about you?” Principal Darling asked.
He shook his head. He held the bottoms of his hat strings so they wouldn’t swing.
“Red?”
“No, Principal Darling.” Red squinched his face again. “No, no, no.”
“Do any of the parents want to add anything?” She looked around the table, but no one spoke up. “Just so you kids know,” Principal Darling said, “all the grown-ups here have spoken with me already. We’re all on the same page.” She faced my mom. “Lesley, I’m not the only principal here. Anything I may have missed?”
“You five are very lucky,” Mom said, morphing into principal mode. “Very lucky. This is not how this plays out in most schools.” She tapped her pad with the eraser end of her pencil. “You are very lucky you go to a school like RJE. You are very lucky to have parents who care like we do. Just imagine for a moment being a kid at this meeting without a parent sitting next to you.” She put down the pencil. “Respect how lucky you are. Respect your good fortune.”
“Thanks.” Principal Darling pulled a paper from her folder. “Everyone here appreciates your willingness to accept responsibility for your actions. It makes all this slightly less unpleasant, though only slightly. We all agree a harsh punishment in this situation isn’t going to do much good, but I am accountable to the district office, the school board, and the community.” She clasped her hands and rocked forward. “So here’s what’s going to happen: immediately following this meeting, the five of you will go home.”
Tiki covered her mouth. “I’m sorry.” She turned to her mother. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ll all come back to school on Monday. Rip, Red, and Tiki, the three of you don’t play ball this weekend.”
“This was the only game you could make.” Tiki turned to her father. “Now you’ll never get to see me play.”
Principal Darling shook her head.“You can’t miss school on Friday and then play ball on Saturday,” she said. “That’s not how it works.”
“I’m sorry, Pop,” Tiki said.
Tears ran down his cheeks again. He shut his eyes and nodded.
“I’m sorry, Pop,” she repeated.
“It’s okay, Takara Eid,” Red said.
He stood up. He pressed his elbows to his sides and hunched his shoulders. Then he walked around the table to Tiki. He leaned over and hugged her.
“It’s okay, Takara Eid,” Red said again.
Then he shuffled back to his seat, sat down, and pinky-thumb-tapped his leg.
Suzanne squeezed his neck and smiled. I’d never seen her smile like that before.
“Rip and Red,” Principal Darling said, “the two of you aren’t allowed in the building early anymore.” She looked from Red to me. “Your morning pass is revoked until after Christmas. When we get back from vacation, the five of us and Mr. Acevedo are all going to meet and figure out what to do next.” She turned to Mr. Acevedo. “I believe you’re up now. Take it away.”
Mr. Acevedo strummed the table. “After the break,” he said, “we’re going to start planning for our community garden. When I interviewed for this position last summer, I was asked if I’d be interested in spearheading the community garden initiative, and I said absolutely. Now we have the students who are going to help make it happen.”
“I like this punishment already,” Diego said, smiling. He swung his strings and dodged his mother’s fingers.
“It’s not a punishment, Diego.” Mr. Acevedo brushed some hair off his face. “That’s not how I see this. I see this as a privilege with a bit of retribution, and if you don’t know what retribution means, look it up when you get home.”
I had no idea what retribution meant other than that it had to do with our punishment that wasn’t a punishment.
“Thank you, Mr. Acevedo,” Principal Darling said. She looked around the table. “In the springtime, I’ll reach out to the Lunch Bunch. Perhaps they can visit on School Lunch Hero Day.”
“Sweet,” Diego said. “Thanks, Principal Darling.”
“We’re not the only school in the county having issues with this new food service company,” she said. “We’ve reached out to their management. We’re trying to see what we can do about it. We need them to be part of our community. If they’re unwilling or unable to, then next year we’ll need to go in a different direction. A tried-and-true one.”
A Girl in My Bedroom!
I tossed my purple teddy toward the foot of the bed and turned onto my side. I grabbed my pillow and—
Tiki stood in the middle of my room.
“Whoa!” I shot
up. “What are you doing here?” I pulled the comforter up to my neck.
“Your mom let me in,” she said.
“I was sleeping!” I checked the clock. “It’s eight-forty-five in the morning.”
I blinked hard. I wasn’t dreaming. Tiki was really standing in front of my workstation staring right at me. How long had she been here? I reached under the comforter and made sure my glow-in-the-dark smiley-face boxers still covered my butt. Then I grabbed all the stuffed animals I could reach and pushed them into the space between the mattress and the wall.
“I’m sorry for getting us caught,” she said.
“I know. You said that.”
“I couldn’t stand seeing my friends getting in trouble.”
“What are you doing here, Tiki?” I gripped the end of my comforter. “It’s Sunday morning. Don’t you think it’s a little weird—”
“I’m so bummidy-bummed-bummed-bummed we lost yesterday. We should’ve destroyed Yaeger. So much for going undefeated.”
“Did you call before you came over?” I asked.
“Cypress Village won again. They’re only a game behind us.” She shook her hands at me and then pretended to run in place. “That play where I stole the ball in the corner and threw it to you, and you passed it back to me—that was like the greatest pass ever-ever-ever-after.”
“Thanks.” I blinked hard again.
“I real-zee-fa-real-zee wanted to play ball with you again.” She stepped toward my bed. “It makes me so sad—” She stopped midsentence and picked up the purple teddy. “He’s cute.”
“Can you put him down?”
“What’s his name?”
I stared at her thumb with the bitten-off nail and the scabbed-over cuticle. It was touching my bear’s mouth. “He doesn’t have a name.”
“He’s your fave-a-fave.” She held him to her chest. “How can he not have a name?”
“I don’t have a favorite—”
“He would be my fave, too.” She flexed her eyebrows. “I used to have tons of stuffed animals. Now all I have is Monroe, my giraffe.”
She put the purple teddy on the bed. I snatched him away and put him by my pillow.
“I like it so much better like this,” she said.
