Free Stealing Home by Todd Hafer Page B

politely refused it.
    “You earned that, so keep it,” he said. “You guys already gave me the best gift I could imagine.”

Chapter 6
Danger in High Places

    W ith baseball season officially over, Cody took a week off from doing anything more athletic than watching ESPN.
    But he couldn’t stay on the couch long. He and Drew resumed their running, working up to an occasional eight-miler. And he finally kept a summer-long promise to Robyn that he would shoot hoops with her before high school started.
    “Thanks for doing this, finally,” Robyn said, “being my rebounder.”
    Cody caught Robyn’s twenty-third consecutive free throw as it whispered through the net at the Grant Park outdoor court.
    He smiled at her. “Technically, I think you have to miss before I can officially be called your rebounder.”
    “Well, let’s do some catch-and-shoots next. I need help on those. My shot really needs work.”
    Cody shook his head. “Yeah, right. Is that what you told Alston this past basketball season?”
    Robyn frowned. “He was mad about what I did, wasn’t he?”
    “Let’s see, Hart. It’s the heart of hoops season. Coach Clayton brings you into practice because Alston has been talking so much trash about what a scoring machine he is. He has you two play H-OR-S-E, and you smoke him on seven shots. You don’t miss once. You don’t even get one letter. How do you think a guy with an ego that big is going to feel?”
    “Maybe he’s going to realize his ego is bigger than his game. One needs to grow, the other needs to shrink.”
    “I think he’s making some progress. Maturing a little.”
    With that, Cody fired a chest pass to Robyn as she backed up to the top of the key. Her shot hit the front of the rim and she slapped herself on the thigh. Cody retrieved the ball and passed it to her again. This time the ball rattled through.
    “Still not right,” she muttered.
    “What? You have to swish every shot now?”
    “Why not? Why not shoot for perfection?” Robyn moved to the right wing and banked in an eighteen-footer. “Dude, I can’t wait for my high school career to start. I just have to make varsity my freshman year. Nobody’s done that for, like, three years.”
    “I hope you do. Me, I’ll be lucky to make the freshman team.”
    “I don’t know, Cody. You have some skills. And you’re the best stopper around. I like the way you play D.”
    Cody shrugged. “Thanks.”
    “But you know what I like even more?”
    “Chocolate?”
    “Ha, ha, ha. No, idiot. It’s what you did for AJ Murphy. How you organized the baseball team to be there for him when he needed it most. It reminded me of how you stood up for Greta Hopkins this past year. You showed me something. More important, you’ve showed AJ and Greta something—God’s love.”
    “I don’t know about that.”
    “I do. You see, when I moved here in fourth grade, some kids made fun of me because of my glasses. I just wanted to cry. But then this skinny kid comes up and says, ‘Come on, you guys—how would you feel if you wore glasses and you got treated this way?’ Thenthis skinny kid introduces me to his friend Jill Keller, who becomes one of my best friends. That skinny kid made a difference for me. Now he’s done it for other people, too.”
    Cody practiced a yo-yo pass, trying valiantly not to smile. “Man, I had forgotten all about that. That was a long time ago.”
    “I remember. It’s not the kind of thing a girl forgets.”
    “For real?”
    “For real. Take Greta, for example. I can promise you she won’t forget what you did. Not in four years. Not in forty years.”
    Cody nodded. He bounced a pass to Robyn on the left baseline. She head faked and then swished a fifteen-foot jumper.
    Smiling, she said, “Finally. That’s more like it.”
    Luke Martin sat cross-legged on the floor, a disemboweled vacuum in front of him. To the left of the machine was a cone-shaped pile of dirt that looked like a giant gray anthill.
    Uh-oh,