Free Jump Shot by Paul Mantell Ronde Barber Tiki Barber Page B

losing team, well below the Eagles in the standings.
    Both of the Eagles’ remaining games were against play-off contenders, and the Eagles needed to win outin order to finish over .500. One thing was for sure—they were going to need more than two effective players to do it.
    Ronde knew that if things were going to shift, today had to be the day. Now had to be the time.
    He wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. But luckily, Sugar helped him out by starting it himself.
    â€œYo, Ronde,” he said, waving him over to his locker. “You ready to get out of here?”
    â€œUh, yeah,” Ronde said, nodding. “Got all my stuff. Sure, I’m ready.”
    â€œLet’s go.” He led the way, and Ronde followed. Most of their teammates had already showered, changed, and left for home. “The bus’ll be waiting.”
    Rory Mathis was still sitting by his locker, in full uniform. He stared after Ronde as he and Sugar left, and Ronde wondered what he was thinking.
    There were others on the bus, and they all wanted to high-five Sugar and Ronde. Ronde obliged, but he couldn’t get the image of Rory out of his mind. He’d taken over the poor kid’s spot—and it wasn’t the coach who’d made the switch, it was Sugar! That would surely never have happened on the football team, he knew. Now, Rory probably thought Ronde had made friends with Sugar just so he could take over as starter.
    Sugar sat down on the bus, and saved the seat next to him for Ronde. Soon they were on their way back toHidden Valley, and the roar of the bus’s engine made it easy for the two boys to talk without kids in the nearby rows hearing them.
    â€œSorry about chewing you out before the game,” Sugar said. “I know you’re not your brother.”
    â€œMy brother’s the best there is,” Ronde said, sticking up for Tiki.
    He meant it too. Sugar saw, and backed down.
    â€œSure, sure,” he said. “Whatever. But that column he wrote was just sour grapes, yo. He was a shooting guard who couldn’t shoot straight, you know?”
    â€œHe shoots fine,” Ronde said pointedly, “when people don’t get all over his back about it. He doesn’t need that extra pressure—he puts enough pressure on himself.”
    Sugar shrugged, and sighed. “Okay, okay. He sure is great at football, anyway. You are too—but you can also play some awesome defense. Tonight was pure, man. That was a show you put on. How many steals?”
    â€œI don’t know . . . seven . . .”
    â€œThat’s right. You do know. And you should be proud of yourself, dude. You got your chance, and you ran with it.”
    â€œThanks . . . I guess . . .”
    â€œYou’ve got to be a little selfish in this world, you know?” Sugar went on, as if they were suddenly best friends, sharing their innermost thoughts. “In the end,everybody’s all about ‘me.’ It’s crazy not to be the same, and even more so.”
    â€œIs that what you think?” Ronde asked. “Really?”
    â€œSure,” Sugar said, taken aback. “Why not? My mom walked out on the rest of us, did you know that?”
    Ronde caught his breath. Should he admit that he did know? For a moment, he considered playing innocent—but then, he figured it was best to just be as up-front as possible. Sugar obviously felt betrayed enough as it was. “Um . . . I . . .”
    Sugar didn’t wait for his answer. “That’s right—one day, out of nowhere, she just up and drove away. She left a note saying it wasn’t because of me or my sister, that we were great kids, blah, blah, blah.” He snorted. “It was all about her , see? And now I realize, that’s how it is with everybody .”
    Ronde thought about that statement for a moment. “I don’t believe that,” he