Free Athlete vs. Mathlete: Double Dribble by W. C. Mack Page A

playing as hard as I could so that when the Hogarth game rolled around, I’d be ready to make a difference.
    But I couldn’t keep one question out of my mind: What if I finally had my chance to face off with Dante Powers and I was stuck on the bench?

Divisibility Rules
    The Pioneers’ winning streak should have been enough to keep Owen bouncing off the walls with happiness, but all I heard about for the next few days was the upcoming game against Hogarth.
    I’d never seen Dante Powers before, but I’d heard plenty. In the past I would have written it all off as exaggeration, but now that I’d played with the Mitch and Marcus, I knew that it was possible for someone my age to be extremely good.
    But even the best player on a team had to take a break sometime, didn’t he?
    â€œDon’t you see?” I said to Owen on the way home from school one afternoon. “When Dante’s on the bench, that’s when we’ll strike.”
    Owen shook his head. “No, that’s when the
Twinvaders
will strike.”
    I sighed. “You’ve got to get them out of your head, O.”
    It was advice I should have been giving myself. Science class had turned into my least favorite period, next to math, where M&M continued to outwit everybody (including Mr. Hollis) without scrap paper, calculators, or more than a few seconds of thought.
    I became almost obsessed with watching them in the classroom, and I was surprised when my frustration turned to fascination. Then, totally unexpectedly, I was able to tell them apart!
    Marcus very rarely raised his hand in class, but when Mitch raised his, Marcus was always ready to back him up or complete a thought. Marcus took the notes while Mitch did the talking.
    In the hallways, Mitch always walked slightly ahead, leading the way for his twin. I’d never noticed it before, but I had the feeling it had been happening all along.
    And even though they seemed to have the same expressions on their faces most of the time, I realized that Marcus was quicker to smile than his brother. He was also the one to fix things if Mitch offended someone or sounded kind of rude.
    The way Marcus stayed in the background and kept things running smoothly for himself and his brother was strangely familiar.
    It didn’t take long for me to realize that Marcus was a lot like me.
    Sensing that we had things in common, I tried to speak to him between classes, but Mitch was always there to step in and break it up.
    I got the distinct feeling that Mitch didn’t need anyone else. He wanted to be part of a twosome, and no more.

    I might have been figuring out the differences between the Matthews twins, but that didn’t mean I’d abandoned my dream of being in sync with Owen.
    I’d tried dressing exactly the same on the court, right down to the Nike swooshes on our socks. I matched his stride when we walked and tried anything else I could think of, but none of it worked.
    On the way home one afternoon, I gave it another try.
    â€œClose your eyes for a second,” I told Owen.
    â€œWhat now? I’m walking, Russ.”
    â€œJust stop where you are and close your eyes.”
    â€œWhat for?” he asked suspiciously.
    â€œCan’t you just trust me?”
    He sighed, but did what I’d asked.
    I closed my eyes, too, and tried to clear my mind of everything but one thought. I made it really easy for him by picturing an orange basketball. Nothing else; just the ball.
    â€œOkay,” I said. “What are you thinking about right this second?”
    â€œRight now?”
    â€œYes. Just blurt it out.”
    â€œI’m thinking about dipping a Cheeto into chocolate pudding and trying to decide whether it would taste awesome or totally disgusting.”
    I opened my eyes. “Are you joking?”
    He opened his as well. “No, why?”
    â€œNever mind. Let’s try this again. Close your eyes and picture one object. Get rid of