Free Boot Camp by Eric Walters Page B

the final team?” Jerome asked.
    Nobody answered right away. “Um…we’re the Zebras,” I finally said.
    There was no cheer from our team, but there were a whole bunch of questioning looks.
    â€œThat’s certainly a unique name,” Jerome said. He turned to his brother. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that used as a team name before, have you?”
    â€œIt’s a first for me too, but I like it,” Johnnie said, nodding his head. “Strong, fast, a proud African animal.”
    â€œYou made a good choice,” Jerome said. “Let’s give it up for them for making such an original choice!”
    Jerome and the other coaches, joined by the other kids started to clap. That was just like Jerome, putting a positive spin on something. I didn’t really think the kids thought it was such a great name, but they weren’t going to argue—if Jerome Junk Yard Dog Williams thought it was good, it was good.
    â€œOkay, let’s play some ball!”

Chapter Ten
    We’d drawn for numbers. Kia got number two, which meant she was going to sit on the bench for the first two shifts. I got three. Jamal got four.
    I walked over to the bench. “If you want we can trade numbers, and I’ll sit out to start,” I said to Kia.
    She shook her head. “I’m not a power forward, and we’re going to need you to play hard because our center isn’t going to be much good.”
    I had to agree. Brandon handled the ball like it was a hand grenade—a hand grenade covered in butter.
    â€œYou start,” Kia said. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to separate you and your new best friend.”
    â€œI didn’t think I needed a new best friend.”
    â€œYou might have to think again if you keep acting like a jerk.”
    â€œI’m just trying to make things work. Let’s just try to get along.”
    â€œI’m not the one causing the problems.”
    â€œCome on, Nick, let’s get going!” Jamal yelled.
    I turned around. “I’m coming!” I yelled. I turned back to Kia. “If we play as a team, we might surprise a few people.”
    â€œWith Jamal on our side, if we play as a team, there would definitely be one person who will be surprised—me.”
    I was hoping she was wrong, but I wouldn’t want to bet any money on it. “We’ll see.”
    As soon as the game started it became clear that Jamal was good—very good—even better than I thought he was going to be from watching him run drills. Maybe he was the best player on the whole court. He had a great jump shot and could drive the hoop and dribble equally well with either hand.
    What was equally clear was that I had no idea what sort of passer he was because he hadn’t attempted one. Whoever was on the court with him just ran up and down the floor. The onlyway any of us would do more than just see the ball was when he shot and missed. Once I realized that, I started to hope he’d miss.
    Maybe I didn’t come to a basketball camp to just do drills, but running back and forth down the court without any hope of touching the ball wasn’t much more fun than running laps. In fact, it was more frustrating.
    Jerome turned up the music, signaling it was time for a line change. I walked over and took a seat on the bench beside Kia.
    â€œYou want to just save us both a lot of time and tell me I was right,” she said almost before my bottom hit the bench.
    â€œHe can play,” I said, not wanting to agree but knowing she was right.
    â€œHe’s good,” she said, “although that isn’t helping us much on the scoreboard.”
    There was a flip board for each game. We were already down twelve to eight. Jamal had scored six of those points.
    â€œAssuming either of us ever gets the ball, let’s try to pass it around, work it down low. We have height on this team,” Kia said.
    Kia had been