by Rich Wallace
midcourt. Kyle didn’t look his way. He dribbled
to the other side and passed the ball to Lonnie.
Kyle ignored Jamere every time he brought
up the ball. Jamere’s only touches were on loose
balls or rebounds. The second team tightened its
defense, leaving Jamere open much of the time.
And still Kyle didn’t pass.
Come on, Jamere thought. We’re not a
one-man team, but we’re not a four-man team
either. “Pass the ball,” he said.
“I’ve been passing,” Kyle said. “To the good
players.”
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The next time Jamere got the ball, he threw it hard at Kyle’s bandaged foot. Kyle dodged out
of the way.
“At least I can throw an accurate pass,” Kyle
said.
“That was accurate,” Jamere said.
At the end of practice, Coach told the team to
sit in the bleachers. “We have one game left,” he
reminded them. “If we win, we’re champions.”
“If we lose?” Derek asked.
“Then there’ll be a play-off for the title,”
Coach said. “But we’re not thinking about that.
We need to beat Westwood. Simple as that.”
“Who’s starting?” Kyle asked. “As if there
should be any doubt.”
Jamere clenched his fists and stared at Coach.
Coach let out a short laugh. “There isn’t any
doubt. Same starting lineup we’ve had for the
past three games. Three wins.”
Jamere relaxed. He hadn’t lost his job.
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“We’ll need a team effort to win,” Coach said.
“Team means passing. Got that, Kyle?”
“I passed plenty,” Kyle said.
“Play like a team or expect to sit on the
bench,” Coach said. “That goes for all of you.”
Hector grabbed Jamere’s arm as the players
headed for the locker room. “Let’s shoot a few
more free throws,” he said.
Jamere knew why Hector wanted him to
wait. Kyle would be angry, and a fight wouldn’t
help anything. He didn’t feel like confronting
Kyle anyway. Coach had already put Kyle in his
place. That was enough for today.
“So,” Hector said, “ready for Freeman?” He
took a shot, which swished through the net.
“Of course.” Jamere hadn’t forgotten how
badly Freeman outplayed him last time.
“You got what you wanted,” Hector said.
“Kyle’s back, but he’s not starting.”
“He doesn’t deserve to.”
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Hector dropped in another shot. “He did all right today. Definitely had the edge over me.”
Jamere rebounded the ball. Kyle outplayed
Jamere today, too. Only by a little, he thought.
That’s just the flow of the game.
“Welcome back, right?” Hector said with a
sly smile.
Jamere shrugged. “He played all right, I guess.
Hogged the ball. Kept up that bad attitude. Like
Coach said, if he can’t act like a good teammate,
he shouldn’t be on the court.”
“That’s the truth,” Hector said. He tossed the
ball gently at Jamere’s foot.
Jamere picked up the ball. “He didn’t pass to
me at all.”
“You shouldn’t have aimed at his ankle.
You’re lucky Coach missed that one,” Hector
said.
Jamere sighed. “I know. I shouldn’t stoop to
Kyle’s level.”
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“The best way to keep him in his place is to play great tomorrow,” Hector said. “You’re still
the starter.”
“And he’s still a pain in the neck.”
“Concentrate on Freeman,” Hector said. “He’s
your rival, not Kyle.”
Right, Jamere thought. Let’s go win a
championship.
47
Chapter
7
Loud and Rowdy
“This is it,” Hector said as Fairfield ran
through a lay-up drill before the game.
Jamere tried to concentrate on his shots. He
kept looking around the Westwood gym. The
bleachers were full of fans in blue-and-yellow
shirts. Students cheered each time Trey Freeman
made a basket during warm-ups.
Jamere took a pass from Derek and put up a
long shot. The ball missed the basket completely.
“Air ball!” shouted some spectators.
The game hasn’t even started, and they’re
already taunting me, Jamere thought.
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Coach waved the team to the huddle.
“They’ll be loud and proud in here all game,”
he warned. He raised his voice because the
Westwood students were stomping their feet
and chanting. “This is a tough place to play!”
Freeman strutted onto the court. He shook
hands with Jamere but didn’t meet his eye. He
was a couple of inches taller than Jamere, with
broader shoulders.
Relax, Jamere told himself. Get off to a good start.
He did. Derek’s first pass was on target, and
Jamere drained a long shot for a quick 3–0 lead.
The players on the bench jumped up and
yelled. But they went quiet again as Freeman
matched Jamere’s three-pointer with one of
his own.
Jamere was tempted to shoot again. Freeman
stuck close. Jamere made a swift bounce pass to
Lonnie near the basket. Lonnie missed the shot.
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Freeman kept making baskets, but Jamere scored again. Fairfield kept things close. Jamere
didn’t even think about the score. Then Coach
called a time-out five minutes into the game.
“Sub!” called Kyle. He pointed to Jamere.
“Already?” Jamere looked at the scoreboard:
HOME 11. GUEST 8.
Coach tapped Jamere on the shoulder. “Good
work,” he said. “Stay ready.”
Kyle played the next several minutes and led
Fairfield to a small lead. Midway through the
second quarter, Coach told Jamere to go back in.
Freeman promptly hit a jumper. Then
another.
By halftime, Westwood’s lead was back
up to three points. Jamere knew Freeman was
outplaying him, but not by much.
Jamere started the second half. The margin
never got higher than five points. Kyle subbed
in for Jamere for a few minutes and led Fairfield
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back to within a point. Then Coach sent Jamere in, and Freeman made a three-pointer.
Derek fouled out late in the fourth quarter.
Jamere wasn’t surprised to see Kyle report in.
“Who’s at the point?” Jamere called to Coach.
“You,” Coach said. “But Kyle will guard
Freeman.”
Lonnie made a basket. Kyle stole the ball
from Freeman and went the length of the court
for another. Fairfield had cut the lead to two.
“Less than a minute,” Coach said during a
time-out. “Tight defense. This game is ours.”
The Westwood fans didn’t think so. They
were making so much noise that Jamere could
barely think.
&nbs
p; On Fairfield’s next possession, Kyle yelled for
the ball. Jamere ignored him. He drove hard into
the lane and raised the ball to shoot.
Wham! Freeman blocked the shot. Jamere
stumbled as the rest of the players ran the other
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way. Freeman was ahead of everyone with the
ball. Kyle raced to stop him.
Jamere could do nothing more than watch as
Freeman leaped toward the basket. Kyle twisted
to avoid barging into him. They fell to the floor.
The ball went in. The referee blew his whistle.
“Foul,” the ref said.
“No way!” Kyle shouted, jumping to his feet.
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The crowd taunted Kyle. He walked toward the referee. “I didn’t touch him!” he said.
The ref opened one palm and brought the
other across in the sign of a T. “Technical foul,”
he said.
Kyle swung at the air. Coach pulled him out
of the game and sent in Hector.
Freeman made the first free throw. Then
he dropped in another. That was all Westwood
needed to wrap up the game.
The Fairfield players tromped out of the gym.
We had them beat, Jamere thought.
Coach stood in the aisle of the bus as it idled
in the parking lot. “Hope you guys liked this
place.” He gave them a tired smile. “We’ll be back here in two days for the play-off game.”
Back at school, Coach called Jamere into his
office. “So, what do you think?” he asked.
Jamere stared at the door. “I think we should
have won.”
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“So do I,” Coach replied. “What could we have done better?”
Jamere met Coach’s eyes. “Kyle’s dumb
technical foul didn’t help.”
“Who should be our starting point guard?”
“You’re asking me?”
Coach nodded.
Jamere leaned his elbows on the desk. “Kyle
played well, all right? But I did, too.”
Coach agreed. “You both did. But you and
Kyle don’t play well together. That’s a problem.”
Jamere sighed.
“We have three options,” Coach said. “You’ve
been the starter. And most of the time you’re a
leader. So I’ll let you decide. You can start the
game at point guard. Or Kyle can start, and you
can come in off the bench later. The third choice
is for both of you to start. Kyle would play the
point, and you’d start at the other guard spot
instead of Derek.”
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Jamere shut his eyes. He wanted to start. But deep inside he knew Kyle was more effective
guarding Freeman. If Freeman got off to a hot
start against Jamere again, the game could turn
into a blowout. Letting Kyle start would feel like
a wimpy move. But it might be better for the
team. Having them both start seemed like a good
compromise. But would that be fair to Derek?
“Think it over tonight,” Coach said. “You can
let me know tomorrow.”
56
The Ending Is Up2U!
If you think Jamere should face up to his
nerves and choose to start at point guard, turn
to page 58.
If you think Jamere should do what’s best
for the team and let Kyle start, turn to page 66.
If you think Jamere should take Derek’s spot
in the starting lineup while letting Kyle start at
point guard, turn to page 73.
57
Ending
1
Facing His Fear
The players gathered in the locker room
before the bus ride back to Westwood.
“Jamere will start,” Coach Sanchez said. “He’s
earned it.”
Jamere glanced at Kyle, who was slowly
shaking his head. “Then I’ll have to bail him
out,” Kyle muttered.
Jamere told Coach he was ready to face
the pressure. He’d succeed or he’d fail. But he
wouldn’t back away from the challenge.
In the opening minutes, Freeman burned him
for three baskets. Jamere knew he had no one to
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blame but himself. Freeman led Westwood to a 16–5 lead in the first quarter.
It was no surprise when Kyle reported in.
Jamere sat on the bench and sighed. His worst
fear was coming true.
I knew I should have let Kyle start, he thought.
Too much ego.
Hector nudged him. “It’s early,” he said. “We
can get back in this.”
“If we do, it won’t be because of me,” Jamere
said. He watched the next several minutes in
silence.
“Yikes,” Hector said as Freeman popped in a
fall-away jumper. Westwood’s lead had grown to
twelve points.
“I’m noticing something,” Jamere said. “What
happens when Freeman drives to his right?”
Hector shrugged. “He scores.”
“When Freeman drives left, he takes the shot
if he’s open,” Jamere said. “But if he’s guarded 59
tight, he passes. When he goes right, he never passes.”
Less than a minute remained in the half when
Jamere replaced Derek. “Force Freeman to his
right,” Jamere whispered to Kyle. “I’ll double up
on him.”
Freeman passed once, then demanded the ball
back. Kyle overplayed his left side, and Freeman
drove the opposite way.
Jamere swiped the ball. His long pass led Kyle
perfectly. The lay-up cut the lead to ten.
“Nice one,” Kyle said. Those were the first
positive words he’d said to Jamere all season.
Freeman fell into the same trap again. Jamere
deflected the shot. Lonnie grabbed the ball.
“Last shot,” Coach yelled.
With four seconds on the clock, Kyle drained
a shot from the corner. The Fairfield players ran
off the court, trailing 30–22.
“This is our game,” Kyle said. “It’s ours.”
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“Not so fast,” Coach said. “We made a nice run there, but we have to keep it up. If Freeman’s
going to be a one-man offense, then he’s going to be doubled. I like that adjustment you made,
Jamere.”
“I’ve been watching him too long,” Jamere
said. “Finally figured something out.”
Fairfield kept up the double pressure on
Freeman. But Freeman was a smart player. Soon
he was passing on every drive—right or left.
Fairfield chipped away at the lead, but still trailed by five with two minutes remaining in the game.
Coach kept rotating his guards, giving Kyle,
Derek, and Jamere short rests. Jamere was on the
bench when Kyle drew his fourth foul.
“Jamere and Hector,” Coach called. “Get in
there.”
Hector hadn’t played at all. Jamere was
surprised he was going in. But Derek looked very
tired. And Kyle was in danger of fouling out.
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“I’ll cover Freeman,” Jamere said. “You help out when he drives.”
Jamere dribbled up the court. Freeman stuck
close, waving his hands. Jamere made a safe pass
“Move the ball,” Jamere said. He took a return
pass, then dribbled to the free throw line and
faked a shot. Two players charged toward him.
Jamere fired a pass to Hector, who scored.
“Defense, now!” Jamere called.
Freeman raced past midcourt, where Jamere
met him. Freeman took a big side step, then
darted to his right. Hector slid over to double up.
Freeman leaped high and sent a soft, one-handed
shot into the basket.
“So we don’t stop him every time,” Jamere
said. Hector bounced the ball to him. “Let’s get
it back.”
“Try to go back door,” Hector said. He meant
for Jamere to lose Freeman near the basket.
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Jamere stood outside the arc and acted like he was too tired to run. He put his hands on his
knees while Freeman faced him.
In an instant, Jamere burst toward the basket,
keeping a step ahead of Freeman. Hector’s pass
reached him in the lane. Jamere leaned toward
the basket as he shot, taking a hard foul from the
Westwood center.
The shot went in.
The Fairfield players leaped and cheered.
Kyle reported in for Hector.
“Let’s finish this, Jamere,” Kyle said. “Make
this shot!”
Jamere wiped his face on his jersey. Bounced
the ball twice. Made the free throw.
That cut the lead to one point. Thirty-four
seconds remained.
“Press!” Jamere called.
He spread his arms to hassle the player trying
to make the inbounds pass. The pass went over
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Freeman’s head. A mad scramble for the ball left four players on the floor. Lonnie tipped it into
the air.
Jamere grabbed it. “Time-out!” he called.
“Last shot,” Coach said. “We win or lose on
this possession.”
Kyle grabbed Jamere’s arm as they ran out
onto the court. “We got this,” he said. “You
and me. Keep moving. One of us will be open.
Doesn’t matter which one.”
Jamere dribbled. Passed. Cut to the corner.
Took another pass from Kyle.
Freeman was in Jamere’s face, swiping for the
ball. The fans counted down the seconds. “Eight,
seven, six . . .”
Jamere saw a narrow opening along the
baseline. He drove and leaped, but even then he
hadn’t made a decision. Shoot, or . . .
Kyle was wide open at the free throw line.
