Athlete vs. Mathlete (17 page)

The house felt quiet and lonely.

I missed my brother, and he was right there in front of me.

“We have a game today,” I reminded him on Friday morning.

He didn't care.

But the rest of us did. Parkrose Middle School was a good team, and we Pioneers had our work cut out for us.

Chris, Paul, and I met outside the school after the final bell and waited for the rest of the guys.

“So, are we going to take the Pacers down?” Paul asked.

I shrugged.

“Is Russ coming?”

“Nope,” I said, shaking my head.

“Nuts.” Paul sighed. “We need him.”

“I know. Look, I've tried talking to him, but he won't listen.”

“What happened?” Chris asked, for, like, the tenth time.

I didn't want anyone to know how much of a jerk I'd been. If the guys found out that it was totally my fault that Russ was bailing on basketball, they'd hate me.

“No idea,” I lied. “I think he's busy with school.”

Luckily, the rest of the guys showed up so we could stop talking and get going.

“No Russell?” Coach asked, checking names on his clipboard as each of us climbed onto the bus.

“No,” I told him.

Coach put his hand on my shoulder to stop me. “Do you think he'll come back?”

“I hope so,” I said. And it was true. I missed Russ more
than I ever thought I could. At home, at school,
and
on the basketball court.

“Do what you can to convince him.”

“I will,” I told him, and went to find a seat.

“We're going to have to work our butts off,” Chris said when I sat next to him. “These guys are good, and without Russ—”

“We're the underdog,” I finished for him.

“Yeah,” Chris said, biting his lip. “We are.”

“But underdogs have won before,” I reminded him.

“I guess,” Chris said doubtfully.

“I have a feeling we're going to win,” I told him. “And I mean win big.”

We lost.

And I mean lost big.

They killed us. Right from the start, it was like they were in high school and we were in kindergarten.

Their players were the same size as us, but twice as fast, so it always felt like they outnumbered us on the court.

Paul had eight turnovers … in the first half! Chris had three fouls and no points. Nate missed two free throws, right when we needed them.

And me? I passed the ball and tried to do the right thing
whenever I could, but I'd only scored six points by the end of the game.

“That was brutal,” Chris moaned on the bus ride home.

“That's what practice is for,” Coach said. “And boys, we
will
be practicing.”

Perfect Symmetry

I knew that skipping practices wasn't fair to Coach or my teammates, but I did it, anyway.

I'm sure Owen thought that returning my spaghetti shoes and half apologizing was going to make everything okay between us, but he was wrong.

I had a lot to sort out in my mind, and it seemed like the best way to do that was to forget about basketball until I took care of everything else.

It was time for some changes.

The first thing that needed changing was my homework and study schedule, which had disappeared when basketball took over. I spent a couple of nights getting up to speed for all my classes, and I could feel my shoulders start to relax.

Next up was Masters of the Mind, but I had no idea how to repair my relationship with the group. Arthur Richardson the Third was ruining the team, and my gut instinct was to get rid of him.

But how?

The team was open to everyone, we weren't over the limit for members, his donut sales paid our entry fees for the district challenge,
and
he'd had a lot of good ideas for competition.

But, just like my brother, he was a real jerk.

Nitu and I walked to Sunset Park together on the next game day. We ended up at the basketball court, which was empty.

“That's where the whole mess got started,” I told her.

She glanced at me. “I heard you've been skipping basketball practices.”

I shrugged. “Yeah. And a game tonight.”

She frowned at me. “That's not like you, Russell. You're not a skipper.”

“I am now, I guess.”

“The coach won't let you do that for long, you know. He'll kick you off the team.”

“Maybe that would be a good thing,” I said, and sighed.

She turned to stare at me. “Come on, Russell. You don't mean that.”

“Why not? It's caused me nothing but trouble.”

“But you love it.”

“No, I don't.”

“Russell,” she said, raising one eyebrow at me. “You're almost as happy being on the Pioneers as you are in Masters of the Mind.”

“No, I—”

She raised a finger to stop me. “I said
almost
.”

“Even if you're right, it doesn't matter, Nitu. The two things just don't work together.”

“Says who?” asked my favorite math whiz.

“Sara and Jason.” I sighed. “Arthur Richardson the Third.”

“He doesn't count,” she said, and snorted. “And the other two? They're just scared, so they're following his lead.”

“Basketball.” I groaned. “It's ruining everything. I can't even be around my brother anymore.”

“Why not?” Nitu asked, looking surprised.

I told her what happened with the Nikes and she shook her head.

“He shouldn't have done that.”

“You're telling me?”

“You need to talk to him about it.”

“I can't, Nitu. I'm so mad, I just—”

“He's your brother, Russell. There are billions of people on this planet and out of all of them, only one is your brother.”

“I know.” I sighed, hating that she was right.

“Talk to him, Russell.”

“No.” I had to put myself first, for once.

Later that afternoon, I was reading ahead in my social studies textbook when Mom knocked on my door.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

I smiled when she opened the door, but that smile shrunk when she sat down on the bed. It wasn't looking like a quick visit, and I wanted to get through those chapters.

“How are things going?” she asked.

“Fine. I'm learning about the wonders of ancient Greece.”

“Sounds good,” she said, then cleared her throat. “So, I've noticed a bit of a chill in the air between you and your brother. Your dad filled me in on the shoes and the rest of what he knows. Do you want to talk about it?”

I must have wanted to, because even though I had work to do, I ended up telling her everything. I started with my
fear of trying out for the team and the surprise of enjoying basketball. Then I talked about Owen wanting me to fail and the horrible feeling that I'd let down the Masters team while Arthur tried to take over as team leader.

“Whew,”
she said when I was finished. “And that's all happened in the past couple of weeks?”

“Yes.” I sighed.

“Honey, it's not good for you to keep all this stress and worry inside.”

“I know. Stress can cause high blood pressure and—” I began.

She looked like she was trying not to laugh. “That wasn't exactly my point, Russell.”

“What was it, then?”

“Stress can take a lot of the fun out of childhood. You're young and you should be enjoying yourself.”

“I
do
enjoy myself,” I assured her. “It's just been harder than usual lately.”

“Well, I think the place to start is to patch things up with Owen.”

“Mom,” I groaned.

She sounded just like Nitu.

“I'm serious. I know he did some terrible things, but do you think he actually feels good about them?”

I didn't have to think about that for more than a second. “I'm sure he doesn't.”

“So?”

“So, it's not my job to make him feel better, Mom. He betrayed me.”

“I'll let you stew on that for a bit,” she said, standing up. “He may not show it all the time, but he loves you and he'll always be your brother.”

When she left me alone, I didn't know what to think.

Later that evening, while Owen was still at the game, Nitu and Sara showed up at my house.

“Did you talk to Owen?” Nitu asked, once we were in the privacy of my room.

“He's not home yet.”

“But you will when he gets back, right?”

“No,” I told her, as I pulled out the books I'd need for English class the next day.

“Then when will you?”

“Maybe in a year or two.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Well, they aren't going to reschedule the district challenge if you stress yourself into some kind of a breakdown.”

“Breakdown?” Sara asked, sounding worried as she looked from Nitu to me.

“I'm not having a breakdown,” I told her. But when I thought about it, I realized Nitu wasn't
that
far off. “It's more like an identity crisis.”