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Toby Wheeler

Page 7

by Thatcher Heldring


  “Oh, man!” Roy cried. “You gotta be kidding me.”

  “That was not cool,” Khalil added.

  “Not cool,” Ruben said.

  Coach turned bright red so quickly, Megan had to run to him with a glass of water and tell him to sit until he caught his breath.

  JJ wouldn’t even look at me. He was on the court, staring at the scoreboard and shaking his head.

  Cedar Crest made the first free throw to pull within six. The second free throw was short. Khalil, who subbed in when JJ fouled out, got a hand on the rebound before the Cougars came up with possession. The Cedar Crest center pump-faked. Khalil leaned in, bumping him. The shot went up and fell in.

  The whistle blew.

  And one.

  The lead was down to four.

  After the free throw, the lead was down to three.

  What had I done?

  We never recovered. Cedar Crest seized the momentum. Ruben fought until the last second, but we ended up losing by four. The buzzer blew and the Cougars danced into the visitors’ locker room. The rest of my team stood near the court, dazed, before wandering away to change. I sat right where I had sat all night and would probably sit until the end of the season—on the end of the bench.

  Behind me, the stands were emptying. Mom tapped me on the shoulder to tell me she and Dad would be waiting for me in the parking lot. Megan sat next to me tapping her feet on the wood floor. I guess there wasn’t much to say to a guy who had blown the game without even taking off his warm-up shirt.

  JJ had just taken the seat on the other side of me when a voice tore through the half-empty gym. Across the court, JJ’s dad had cornered a man half his size: the ref who had whistled JJ for the fifth foul. “Don’t tell me the rules,” he growled. “I saw what was going on out there tonight.”

  The ref tried to wiggle free.

  “Are you blind?”

  Most of the people left in the gym had turned their attention to the altercation. Inches now separated the ref from JJ’s dad. I had never seen a grown man punch another in real life.

  Tossing aside his towel, JJ rose from his seat. He crossed the court and pulled his dad away, and to the relief of the ref, they left the gym.

  “That was scary,” said Megan, gripping my wrist. She was trembling. Speaking of scary, walking our way from the scorer’s table was Coach Applewhite. Seeing that the situation with JJ’s dad was under control, he was looking for Megan.

  I only had a few seconds.

  Using my left hand to pry Megan’s hand from my wrist, I said, “You know, I really should be going.”

  It was too late. Coach locked his eyes on me and said, “Wheeler, for crying out loud, what did I say earlier?”

  Megan slipped away. She was right. I was toast.

  “Sorry, Coach,” I said.

  “Wheeler, if you can’t learn to follow instructions, how can I ever put you in a game? I told you it takes twelve of you to win and I meant it. You may not like your role but you still have a job to do. So you decide: Play by my rules or find something else to do with your time.”

  14

  Six days after Coach warned me to play by the rules, I was standing in a gravel parking lot at the state park with the rest of the eighth-grade class. We had just gotten off the bus, and everyone was scrambling around, gathering in groups, including Megan and Valerie. They had become friendly the day they had covered for each other in the hallway, and during the ride from school to the park had made plans to collect pine boughs together. That was our assignment for the afternoon. We were all supposed to collect one armful of fallen branches with the needles still on them. Then we were going to go back to school and weave wreaths for the retirement home, the fire station, the library, and other places that already had Christmas decorations coming out the wazoo.

  “Toby!” Megan called. “Do you want to come with us?” She was wearing a red fleece jacket and yellow rain pants. If her shoes had been green instead of brown, she would have looked like a stoplight. As she waved, my mouth went a little dry. Yes, I wanted to go with them! But hovering nearby were JJ and Stephen. I reconsidered. Even with the invitation from Megan, I still would have felt like I was tagging along.

  Twenty minutes later I was hiking with Raj through damp underbrush on the edge of a mountain trail. The air was chilly and there was nowhere to hide from the rain, but anything was better than being in class. And despite the cool, drippy weather, I was already sweating underneath my parka as I told Raj what had happened after the game the past Friday.

  When I got to the part about Megan grabbing my wrist, Raj said, “Your wrist? That’s bad.”

  “But what Coach saw was me lifting her hand off.”

  Raj shook his head. “What did I tell you, Toby? Coach sees what he wants to see.”

  I pushed back a shoulder-high branch and stepped around the tree. “Vinny was right,” I said under my breath. “I’m never going to get off the bench.”

  “Ow!” Behind me, Raj was brushing pine needles and sap from his face. “Watch it,” he said.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “That’s okay.” Raj bent down to pick up a bough. We had stumbled into a pretty good pile of them. “Who’s Vinny?” he asked.

  I told Raj about my vow to Vinny Pesto.

  “Let me get this straight,” he said. “We have to beat Hamilton in the championship game?”

  “And I have to be on the court. I forgot to mention that.”

  “We’re 0 and 2, Toby!” Raj said as if he needed to remind me. “If we lose two more games, we aren’t even going to make the play-offs. What else did you promise him?”

  “Only that I would hit the winning shot in his face.”

  “So all we have to do is win seven of the next games, get our twelfth man on the court in the championship, and have him hit a last-second shot?”

  “In Vinny Pesto’s face,” I added.

  Raj whistled. “Good luck,” he said.

  “What am I going to do?” I asked, hopping over a small stream running through a stand of sagging fir trees.

  Raj took off his raincoat, laid it across a stump, and sat with a sigh. I did the same. We were just a few feet from the trail now.

  “Take it one step at a time,” Raj said. “The first thing you have to do is make sure Coach knows there is nothing happening between you and Megan.” He gave me a look. “Which is the truth, right?”

  “Um, as far as I know.”

  “Good,” Raj said. “After that, all you have to do is make up for what happened against Cedar Crest.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “I’m not sure,” Raj admitted as he blew on his hands. “But we better think of something fast. Our game against Hamilton is Friday.”

  I looked up, admiring the heights of the trees around me. Even though it wasn’t exactly tropical in the foothills of the mountains, I did like living so close to the wilderness. It made me feel like I was always a few minutes away from an adventure. It was at moments like these that I saw things Mom’s way and wanted to save every acre of forest possible. But I had also seen the old photographs on the walls in the library and come away believing that cutting down trees was just part of the history here. Like fishing in Alaska or making movies in Hollywood. I was just glad Mom and Dad never made me choose sides at home.

  I was just picking up a pinecone to chuck at Raj when two people came down the trail—Melanie, ducking under overhanging branches, and Cassandra, high-stepping over roots and logs. Raj caught sight of Cassandra and turned sheet-white. I think if he had had time, he would have jumped behind the nearest tree. But Cassandra saw him and walked right over.

  “Hi, Raj,” she said. “How’s it going?”

  “Hi, Cassandra,” he said too loudly. “What are you doing here?”

  Melanie and I smiled at each other.

  Cassandra looked down at the branches in her hand. “Same as you, I guess. Collecting pine boughs.”

  “Oh—right.”


  “Well,” Cassandra said after about two minutes, “I guess I’ll see you later at school.”

  “Or on the bus,” Raj blurted.

  Oh, man, this guy was worse than me. How was he ever going to ask this girl to a dance? She might have to do it for him.

  Cassandra started to leave, then stopped like she had remembered something she wanted to say. “Hey,” she said, “you guys should come to one of our games sometime. They’re a lot of fun.”

  Raj bobbled his chin. “Yeah—okay,” he said.

  Melanie followed Cassandra. “Bye, Toby. Bye, Raj. Say hi to McKlusky.”

  When they were out of sight, Raj took a deep breath and said to me, “Well, I think that went pretty well.”

  There was no time to discuss his “conversation” with Cassandra because a moment later, Megan came around the corner with Valerie. Laughing, Megan tucked her branches under one arm and waved.

  “Here comes trouble,” said Raj.

  “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Behind the girls came JJ, bearing two armloads of pine boughs. He made his way past the roots of a fallen tree, balancing carefully because he had no free hands. He nodded when he saw me, then kept going.

  “How’s it going?” Megan asked me. She had stopped to tie her shoe.

  “Not bad. Your dad made me do extra sprints yesterday.”

  Megan smiled. “It just means he cares.”

  “If he really cared, he would let me play. Of course, he might have to tape my mouth shut first.”

  Megan stepped onto a rock to cross the small stream. “Why do you think he asked me to sit on the bench during your games?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, pretending to think hard about the question, “maybe he thought you needed some help adding up the score.”

  “I can add up the points you’ve scored so far this season.” Megan reached down from the rock to punch my shoulder. “Zero,” she said, and started to slip. She waved her arms around for balance, and then toppled into me before landing on the wet ground.

  “What do you know?” said Valerie. “Toby Wheeler actually prevented an injury. That’s a first.”

  Megan was unhurt, but she was half-soaked. I handed her my parka. “Here. I was sweating anyway.”

  “Gross,” said Valerie.

  “Thanks, Toby,” Megan said. Shivering, she replaced her wet jacket with the parka.

  “No problem,” I said, holding back a branch. “There’s another pile of boughs just up here past this tree.”

  Megan walked by me. I let go of the branch and followed her.

  From behind us came a thwack and then, “Yeowww!”

  I turned around. Valerie was brushing pine needles from her face. A large red mark ran across her cheek.

  Not again! Valerie was still glaring at me when Raj came over. “What are you doing?” he whispered frantically.

  “It was an accident. I didn’t know she was there.”

  “Not that,” he said, pointing past Valerie. “That.”

  “Megan?”

  “Yes! Why did you give her your coat?”

  “Her jacket was wet. What’s the big deal?”

  Raj sounded very disappointed in me. “My cousin says when a girl borrows a piece of clothing from a guy it means she likes him. You were supposed to make her not like you. Then you come along with a dry raincoat and save her. What were you thinking?”

  “She looked cold.”

  Raj trudged away through the fallen branches. “You’ve done it now, Toby. I tried to warn you. But you’ve done it now.”

  15

  The next day I was standing in the hallway during lunch. In a few hours we were traveling to Hamilton Middle School for a showdown with the Harriers—and Vinny Pesto. Beating them would be tough, but at least we still had a chance to save our season.

  My personal outlook was not so good. I was one more misstep from blowing any chance of ever getting into a game. Which was why when Raj came to me with the note from Megan, I took it seriously.

  Thanks again for the parka. That was very sweet. I had to leave school for a few hours to do something. See you after the game maybe.

  —M

  “Who gave you this?”

  “It’s from your girlfriend,” said Raj. “She asked me to give it to you.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? Megan is not my girlfriend.”

  “Look, Toby,” said Raj. “It doesn’t make any difference to me what you do. But if you want to stay on Coach’s good side, you need to end this right now.”

  “You make it sound like it’s an emergency,” I said.

  Raj put his hand on my shoulder. “Toby, I talked to my cousin. He says you’ve already passed the third stage.”

  “The third stage?”

  “The first stage is hand-on-hand contact. You passed the second stage when you lent her clothing. Now you’ve moved on to notes with just initials—the third stage.”

  “I give up,” I said. “What do I do?”

  “Something like this happened to my cousin once. His girlfriends send him notes all the time.”

  “What did he do?”

  Raj looked at his watch. “Do you have a pencil and paper? You have to let her down. But you have to let her down easy so she doesn’t get mad and make things even worse.”

  Although my gut told me Raj was not exactly Pilchuck Middle School’s number one expert on girls, I listened to his advice. I had no choice. I had to get on Coach’s good side if I wanted to get in the game.

  “Okay. What else?” I asked.

  “Write her a note,” said Raj. “Notes are better than meeting in person. No big scenes.”

  “What should I say?”

  “Tell her you just want to be friends. But give her a reason. Girls always need a reason.”

  A moment later, I fished a pencil from my bag and wrote:

  M

  Can we just be friends? I think you-know-who would want it that way.

  —T

  “Good,” said Raj. “But it might help if you wrote something nice about her too.”

  M

  Can we just be friends? I think you-know-who would want it that way. You have a nice smile.

  —T

  “Too nice,” said Raj.

  I thought for a moment, then wrote:

  M

  Can we just be friends? I think you-know-who would want it that way. You have a pretty nice smile.

  —T

  Raj read the note. “Perfect.”

  “Will you give it to her?” I asked. “I don’t want her to read it in front of me.”

  “I’m not going to see her again today. But McKlusky has social studies with her fifth period. I’ll give it to him and he can give it to her.”

  “Thanks—I think.”

  “Toby, you’re doing the right thing. If you want to be anything on this team besides the twelfth man, Coach has to trust you. And if he can’t trust you with his daughter, why would he trust you with the basketball?”

  16

  Riding the bus to a game was nothing like riding the bus to a field trip. Everybody had a double seat of his own. Most of the guys were spread out. Some, like JJ, were in their own worlds, listening to music and staring out the window as the bus chugged past picnic areas overlooking the river, forest-fire warning signs, and boarded-up roadside gas stations. Another group was gathered around Ruben in the back of the bus for a card game.

  Since the Cedar Crest game, one of the only guys besides Raj not giving me the cold shoulder was Malcolm. He was sitting with his back against a window; I was facing him with my back against the opposite window. Malcolm beamed as he held his warm-up shirt for me to see.

  “Trashman?” I asked. “Your nickname is Trashman?”

  “Because Trashman takes out the trash.”

  “You fool,” Roy yelled from the back. “It says Trashman because you only play during garbage time.”

 
; At least he plays, I thought, already picturing what Vinny Pesto would do when he saw me on the end of the bench. Probably point to his stupid championship patch while jogging past me. Or when we lined up to shake hands after the game, would he get in my face and say “Once a gym rat, always a gym rat” or something lame like that?

  We were in the visitors’ locker room at Hamilton when McKlusky sat next to me. The way he exhaled, I could tell he was bent out of shape about something.

  “I got your note,” he said at last.

  “What note?”

  McKlusky handed me the note I had written earlier.

  “McKlusky, this note wasn’t for you.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  “No! It was for Megan. Who did you think M was?”

  “Me.”

  “You! Why would I tell you you had a nice smile?”

  “Actually, pretty nice smile is what you said.”

  “McKlusky! You never gave this note to Megan?”

  JJ looked up from his locker. “Everything okay?”

  McKlusky rolled his eyes as he walked away.

  Raj appeared. “What was that all about?”

  “McKlusky never gave Megan the note.”

  “So she still likes you?”

  “Yeah.” The situation was getting out of control.

  Just then Coach Applewhite gathered us around the chalkboard, where he had sketched the outline of a basketball court. “The Hamilton Harriers are defending champions for a reason,” he said. “They have a guard named Vinny Pesto who can step back and hurt us from the perimeter or put it on the floor and penetrate.” Coach made a chalk mark near the top of the arc. “We also have to worry about the Landusky twins. Melvin and Marvin. Watch out. One of them is right-handed. The other is left-handed.” Two marks appeared in the paint. “Now, remember what we talked about this week. Morelli—you’re our best defender. Your job is to stick to Pesto. Now, as for the Landusky twins…”

  Raj whispered to me, “I heard that when a mountain lion wandered into Tompkins Park last summer, the Landusky twins wrestled it to the ground and led it away with a jump rope and a dog collar.”

 

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