Front Court Hex by Matt Christopher Read Free Book Online Page B

ball, glanced around
     for someone to pass to, and saw Freddie’s hands fluttering high in the air. But Freddie’s guard was on him like a leech, and
     Jerry was afraid that a pass to the Chariot center might be intercepted.
    “Shoot, Jerry! Shoot!” the coach yelled.
    Jerry shot. The ball arced through the air and headed directly for the center of the hoop. It struck the side of the rim and
     bounced off.
    Jerry, running forward the instant he had shot, caught the rebound and tossed it to Ronnie. Ronnie rose out of the cluster
     of players and laid the ball up and into the net for two points.
    In the din of voices Jerry picked out one he recognized. It was his father’s. “Nice play, Jerry!”
    During the next few seconds as the ref took the ball to the sideline to hand over to a Skylark, Jerry looked up into the sea
     of faces. His mother was at home recovering from the flu, but he saw his father, and felt his chest tighten.
    They’ve been so good to me
, he thought,
and I’ve just taken them for granted. After
this game is over I’ll start making it up to them. Just wait and see.
    The remaining minutes seemed endless. Jerry had to sit the last two out, which he didn’t mind. He had decided that after this
     game was over he would turn over a new leaf. He would never steal again, and he would show his parents how much he really
     loved them.
    The Skylarks won, 58 – 43, and Jerry rushed to the locker room to be among the first to shower and get out of the place. There
     was a kid he wanted to see, a kid who would also be waiting to see him.
    Quickly he showered, dressed, and hurried outside. But the street was empty. Danny Weatherspoon was nowhere in sight.

12
    T HE NEXT MORNING Jerry rose at the first sound of his mother’s voice, washed and dressed, then tried fixing his bed. He did
     the best he could and went downstairs, taking the clothes he had worn yesterday with him.
    “Good morning, Mom,” he said. “How do you feel?”
    “A little better,” she said. “Thanks for bringing down your yesterday’s clothes.”
    “That’s okay.” Jerry dumped them into the clothes hamper. “You should’ve stayedin bed, Mom,” he told her. “I can fix my breakfast.”
    “I’m up now,” she smiled. “I might as well fix it. Eggs and toast?”
    “Yes, please.” He watched her crack the eggs into a pan and scramble them. He got two slices of bread and dropped them into
     the toaster.
    “Your father said that you didn’t do so well last night,” said Mrs. Steele.
    “I didn’t do well at all, Mom,” Jerry said.
    She smiled at him. “You’ve got to work harder.”
    “I will, Mom,” he said. “I promise.”
    Jerry hoped that he’d see Danny Weatherspoon before the next game, but Danny seemed to be keeping out of sight. Jerry was
     worried. Had the little guy lost faith,believing that Jerry would never listen to him?
    I hope not
, Jerry thought.
I really hope not
.
    While he was putting on his uniform in the dressing room, a shadow crossed in front of him and paused. Jerry looked up into
     Freddie Pearse’s unsmiling face.
    “Tell you what, Jerry,” Freddie said. “If you play, I’ll give you a dime for every basket you make. For everyone you miss,
     you give me a nickel. Fair enough?”
    “That’s gambling,” Jerry said. “Sorry.”
    Freddie snickered. “Why don’t you admit that you don’t have a chance to win?”
    Jerry rose from the bench and stood with his face within three inches of Freddie’s. “Because I do, Freddie,” he said evenly.
     “I have a very good chance.”
    He strode out of the locker room, feeling Freddie’s eyes boring into his back.
    The game was against the Pilots, and Jerry didn’t get in till the second quarter. He saw the familiar stone-hard expression
     come over Freddie’s face and wondered if, after the game was over, it would be gone. He would just have to wait and see.
    The Pilots played well. Jack Horn, their center, was an equal match to Freddie,