Free Basketball (or Something Like It) by Nora Raleigh Baskin Page B

Mrs. Cooperman, and I don’t think she likes having detention duty very much,” Hank explained. “She kind of wanders in and out.”
    “Oh.” Nathan stepped into the room.
    “So?” Jeremy asked. “Whatcha do?”
    Nathan hesitated. His reason for getting detention was going to sound so stupid and he knew it. For a second he considered saying that he had cursed at a teacher or pushed or something good like that, but nobody was going to believe him. Besides, lying all the time to his parents was beginning to eat away at his stomach lining. Nathan had been trying to figure out how to get a prescription for the “little purple pill.” He was sure he had an ulcer.
    “I didn’t get my test signed,” Nathan said.
    “You failed a test?” Anabel said. “You never get anything below a ninety-five.”
    “I got an eighty-three,” Nathan said. Might as well tell the whole truth.
    “An eighty-three!” Hank yelled. “You were afraidto tell your parents you got an eighty-three?”
    “Get out of here,” Jeremy yelled, too.
    “Get out of here,” Anabel yelled.
    They all started throwing wadded-up pieces of paper at Nathan. He covered his head and ducked. The last ball of paper hit Mrs. Cooperman right in the nose, only it wasn’t Mrs. Cooperman, it was Mr. Bernardino.
    They all got another day of detention.
    And a warning.
    One more infraction
(infraction,
that was really the word Mr. Bernardino used), and they would be suspended from the travel basketball team.
    “But I’m not on the team,” Anabel spoke up.
    “And you won’t be, Miss Morrisey!” Mr. Bernardino shot back. “Take my word for it.”
    It took everything they had to keep from laughing until Mr. Bernardino had left, slamming the door behind him. And then there was no stopping them.
Jeremy
    T he first change Mr. Bischoff made was his starting lineup. He had some reason for the change. Something that had to do with using his big guys more and a different offense than thecoaches before him had used.
    The new starting lineup was now Michael Morrisey, Hank Adler, Julian Rizzoto, Matt King, and Tyler Bischoff.
    Camden Tomasello and Harrison Neeley had the flu, and Sam Bernegger was away. That left five kids to practice. Perfect. Five on five.
    “I’ve got some new plays to show everyone,” Mr. Bischoff said. He was holding the dry-erase board with a diagram of the court. “We are going to learn some real basketball. Today we are going to focus on offense.”
    All the boys were pretty quiet. Why wasn’t Jeremy starting? He was so clearly one of the best, if not
the
best player on the team.
    But no one said anything.
    Mr. Bischoff ran the practice hard. He kept the “starting” five together the whole time and concentrated on teaching them the offensive plays. He used the other five to run the defense.
    Defense only.
    Jeremy figured out what was going on before anyone else. It was so obvious. It was like everything else in life. It wasn’t worth saying anything. It’s always the same.
    But he didn’t care. Until somebody else noticed.
    “This is a load of crap,” Hank whispered toJeremy. They were both getting a drink in the hall. They were allowed one break.
    “What?”
    “Bischoff just wants his kid to make all the points. All the plays are to Tyler. Wanna Gatorade? I got extra.”
    When Hank opened his gym bag, Jeremy saw two Gatorades and a bottle of Aquafina inside.
    Jeremy shrugged. “Okay.” He took a Gatorade.
    “I mean, why do you think he’s not starting you. You’re the best kid on the team. It’s just stupid.”
    From inside the gym Mr. Bischoff blew the whistle.
    “My dad hates Mr. Bischoff,” Hank went on.
    “Your dad?” Jeremy said. He wiped the water from his chin.
    Hank started back into the gym. “Yeah, my dad’s going to go crazy when he sees this. Except he thinks I should be starting, so I guess maybe he’ll be happy. It’s so messed up.”
    Jeremy thought for a minute what his own dad might have thought of