Athlete vs. Mathlete: Double Dribble (10 page)

“Then you need to step up your game, Owen,” Dad said. “Be a part of what they're doing instead of treating them like your enemies. If they're making most of the plays, help them make even more.”

“Are you kidding me?” I choked.

“Hey, a good assist is as valuable as the basket itself.”

Yeah, right
.

“They don't need assists from us,” I told him.

“They're like a full team on their own,” Russ agreed.

Dad laughed. “Two players can never do more than five, you guys.”

I gave up on trying to convince him. He just didn't get it.

At the next practice, I was ready to do my best, because that was all I really
could
do.

But when Chris showed up wearing a Timberwolves T-shirt, I got distracted.

“What's that about?” I asked, pointing at it. “Since when do you like Minnesota?”

“They're not bad,” he said, shrugging.

“Seriously?” I couldn't believe he'd joined the stupid fan club! “Why don't you start combing your hair like the Matthewses', too? Maybe you can be triplets together.”

Coach blew his whistle before Chris could say anything.

For the whole practice, I concentrated on 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?

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?

“Don'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.

“Close your eyes for a second,” I told Owen.

“What now? I'm walking, Russ.”

“Just stop where you are and close your eyes.”

“What for?” he asked suspiciously.

“Can'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.

“Okay,” I said. “What are you thinking about right this second?”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Just blurt it out.”

“I'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?”

“Never mind. Let's try this again. Close your eyes and picture one object. Get rid of everything else and just picture that one object.”

“This is stupid.”

I waited until he closed his eyes, then closed my own. I cleared my mind again and waited for something to pop into it.

After a couple of seconds, it did. There was a picture of a scoreboard in my head, red numbers bright and flashing.

“What are you picturing?” I asked.

“A banana split.”

I opened my eyes again.
“Owen.”

“What?” He shrugged. “I'm hungry.”

“Never mind.” I started walking again, irritated.

“What was I supposed to say?” Owen asked, jogging to catch up with me.

“It doesn't matter.”

“You wouldn't be looking all ticked off if it didn't matter.”

“I don't look ticked off.”

“Well, I'm the only one of us who can actually see your face, and I'm telling you that you look ticked off. What's the problem?”

I sighed. “I'm trying to get in sync with you, Owen. I've spent the last few days trying to create a mental bond like M&M have.”

“What? We already have a bond.”

“Not like theirs. They dress alike—”

“Is
that
why you keep asking me what I'm wearing?”

“They anticipate each other's moves, finish each other's sentences, share the same thoughts—”

“Hold on, Russ,” he said, grabbing my arm. “First of all, the mind-reading stuff is seriously creepy, okay? And second, do you really want to be like those guys?”

“Why not? You do.”

“No, I don't. I want to
play
like them, but all the other stuff is just weird.”

“It's not … weird,” I told him. “It's amazing.”

“Yeah, like unicorns and all your other sci-fi stuff.” He shook his head. “I want to be out on the court, making awesome plays with you, Russ. Not reading your mind like a freakin' fortune-teller on the walk home.”

I couldn't help smiling about the awesome plays
with me
part.

Maybe the rest of it wasn't so important.

When I went to my next Masters of the Mind meeting at Jason's house, I was the last to arrive.

“Here he is,” Nitu said, smiling. “It's so unlike you to be tardy, we were going to form a Russ search party.”

“Sorry about that,” I said. “I had to finish a couple of things at home.”

“Hmm,”
Jason said, raising one eyebrow. “Not a rhyming response.”

“Is everything okay?” Sara asked.

“It's fine,” I told her, then looked at each of my team members. “I'm fine.”

It took a couple of minutes to convince them, but when I did, we moved on to Masters business.

“Regionals are coming up fast,” Sara said. “I know we want to have a new team member in place with time left to practice.”

“Yeah, but I haven't been able to find a single candidate,” Jason said, sighing.

“Neither have I,” I told them.

“I have,” Nitu told the group. “Well, two of them, actually.”

“Seriously?” I asked, surprised. She hadn't mentioned anything to me.

“Yes. I think we should ask the Matthews twins.”

I practically choked on my orange juice. “What? Why?”

She stared at me, like it was a ridiculous question. “Russ,
you've seen them in math class. They've always got a different or unusual angle to explore.”

“That sounds like Masters of the Mind,” Jason said, nodding.

Nitu continued, “The whole point of this team is thinking outside the box, and I don't think those two can think
inside
of it.”

“They sound perfect,” Sara said, smiling.

“Then why does Russ look like that?” Jason asked.

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like you just drank lumpy milk.”

Sara and Nitu gave me a closer look.

“You do,” Nitu said, then frowned. “This isn't about the twins playing basketball, is it?”

“No,” I said, firmly. “Well, maybe a little bit. You see, they've totally taken over that team and I—”

“Don't want them to take over this one,” Nitu finished for me.

“Yes,” I admitted. From my observations, I felt that Marcus had the potential to be a good guy, but together? M&M were a total threat.

I tried to describe their bond and their ability to communicate without speaking. I tried to explain how quickly they were taking over the Pioneers.

“This isn't basketball,” Nitu reasoned. “You can't worry about stuff like that.”

“But he is,” Sara reminded her.

“What if we just asked one of them to join?” Jason suggested. “Then there's no doubling up.”

I thought about how Mitch wouldn't even stand in line one body apart from his twin.

“One won't do it without the other,” I told them. “They do absolutely everything together.”

We discussed the possibility for a little while longer and with every passing minute, I was more certain it wouldn't work.