Free Box Out by John Coy Page A

out.”
    â€œOkay.” Liam doesn’t know what else to say. He concentrates on holding still.
    â€œI respect you for coming to talk to me, Bergie. I’ll look into it.”
    The locker room at Tintah smells musty. Liam sits on a small plastic chair and pulls up his socks. He loosens his left foot by making the letters of the alphabet. When he went to physical therapy last year after spraining his ankle, they made him move it side to side thirty times and up and down thirty times. It was so boring, a lot of times he didn’t finish.
    Then one day he got a physical therapist with long blond hair who played basketball herself. She had him write thealphabet with his big toe. Once he got to C he felt like he couldn’t stop until Z, and his foot got a good stretch. If he gets hurt again, he wouldn’t mind seeing her.
    â€œTintah’s tough at home.” Coach Kloss stands in front of the chalkboard. Nobody else in the conference has a locker room so old they still have a chalkboard. He writes nine and seven, the team record, on the board. “This isn’t acceptable.” He taps a piece of chalk on the board. “It’s not acceptable to me and it shouldn’t be to you.”
    Liam knows the numbers too well. If he’d made those two free throws against Crosston, they’d be ten and six.
    â€œOur goal since the start of the year has been to be the best-conditioned team in the conference.” Coach throws the chalk on the floor. “We’re going to go out and run Tintah into the ground. Are you ready to do what it takes to win?”
    â€œYesssss!” everyone shouts.
    â€œPelke, will you lead us in prayer?”
    â€œSure, Coach.” Pelke folds his hands and looks serious. “Lord, we ask for Your guidance. Show us the path You’ve chosen for us and help us compete in the image of Christ.”
    Liam stares at him. Pelke doesn’t believe any of this. He’s just saying what Coach wants.
    â€œLord, help us to be victorious in Your name.” Pelke catches Liam staring and winks.
    â€œThanks,” Coach says. “Let’s all say the Lord’s Prayer.”
    â€œOur Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…” Liam says the prayer with the others. Doesn’t Coach see what a fake Pelke is?
    Tintah’s terrible, and Horizon stretches the lead to nineteen in the second half. Both Drake and Nielsen have stayed out of foul trouble and played the whole game. On the bench, Liam fingers the HWJC band he remembered to wear tonight and presses his elbows into his knees. When he lifts them, they’ve made rising suns on his skin.
    â€œKeep running the offense,” Coach shouts. “Work the ball around.”
    Tintah’s slow to rotate on defense, and Staley gets free. He’s too good a shooter to leave open, and he buries the three-pointer.
    Liam gets in for the final four minutes. That’s a lot less time than last game. Is it because Drake and Nielsen played so well? Did Coach want them to run a whole game to improve their conditioning?
    Or is Coach sending him a message?

12
Mackenzie’s Spot
    By the time the bus gets back from Tintah, it’s 11:30. Mom might still be up, and Liam doesn’t want to talk to her about what happened with Coach, so he drives past Seth’s house. The lights are off and Seth doesn’t answer his phone. Because of his morning weight lifting, he’s an early-to-bed guy lately. Liam winds down the back road to the gravel pit.
    He gets out and looks at the stars. No moon tonight and no lights nearby, so the waves of the Milky Way are visible. Mr. Quist, Liam’s seventh-grade science teacher, once said that there were more stars than individual grains of sand on all the beaches in the world. That seemed like such a far-out idea, but looking up now, it might be possible.
    Liam spots the Big Dipper and follows it to the North Star. Always there, always in the