Athlete vs. Mathlete: Double Dribble (11 page)

“Well,” Nitu said, once we'd run out of things to say, “It can't hurt to ask.”

At the next Pioneers practice I didn't even look at the twins while I ran my warm-up laps. I didn't glance at their matching shoes as they passed me or watch them make perfect shots. I focused on my own drills and playing as much as I could.

But it wasn't easy.

They were amazing, and at one time or another every Pioneer stood still to watch them for at least a few seconds.

Every Pioneer except Owen, anyway. He managed to have his back to them at all times.

In math class, I concentrated on my own work. When an M came up with an idea I hadn't considered or a way of
solving a problem that no one else in class would have imagined, I simply accepted it and moved on.

I found myself behaving differently in class as a result. Even though I had a feeling that Marcus was human, I felt uncomfortable around Mitch.

I rarely raised my hand to answer questions, and when the conversation turned toward one of their ideas, I ended up doodling in the pages of my notebook.

“Russell,” Nitu whispered to me. “Listen.”

“I
am
listening,” I whispered back.

But I didn't like what I was hearing.

Science class wasn't much different. The power duo shared rock samples their dad had brought back from geology trips to Asia and Africa. They had original diagrams he'd drawn, which had been published in university textbooks. They even brought in rock candy for a class treat on the last day of our geology section.

Some days I dealt with my jealousy and uncertainty pretty well. Other days, I hated them.

As the Hogarth game got closer, the Pioneers started to get more excited than I'd ever seen them. In the cafeteria, they were almost too busy talking to eat.

“I think we can take them,” Chris said.

“We totally can,” Paul agreed, nodding.

“Okay, remember that we're talking about a perfect record here. And Dante Powers,” Nate warned them.

“That's true,” Nicky Chu said. “He's not exactly a regular player.”

“But the rest of them are,” I said, thinking about what I'd tried to explain to Owen. “I mean, there's no one else on the team who stands out as a serious threat, is there?”

“No,” Nate admitted. “But Dante Powers is like five players rolled into one.”

I thought back to what Dad had said about two players not being able to do the work of a whole team.

“As I mentioned to Owen the other day, I think the key is for us to attack when Dante is on the bench.”

“Which will give us about three minutes,” Nate said. “That kid is
never
on the bench.”

“Have you ever seen them play?” I asked.

“Well, no.”

“Then how do you know?”

Nate shrugged. “Anybody who scores more than thirty points in a game isn't riding the bench.”

He had a point there.

I was about to respond when Nitu appeared next to me. She said hello to everyone, then quietly asked, “I was thinking about the Matthews twins. Maybe it would be best if you were the one who asked them about joining the Masters.”

“Me?” I choked.

“Well, you play basketball with them, so you know them better than the rest of us.”

“I don't play
with
them,” I whispered back. “I play on the same court at the same time while wearing the same uniform. But that's where the familiarity ends.”

“That again?” she said, and sighed. “Russell, you're being ridiculous about this.”

“No, I'm not, I'm—”

“The most logical person to invite them. It doesn't even matter which one you ask. It's totally your choice.”

Somehow, that didn't make me feel any better. “Fine,” I finally said.

“Cool.” Nitu gave my shoulder a squeeze and headed back to her table.

“What was that about?” Owen asked, looking suspicious.

“I'm supposed to invite one of the Matthews twins to join Masters of the Mind.”

He paused, then said, “You're kidding.”

“I wish.”

“Are you going to do it?” he asked.

I sighed. “Not right away.”

After all, there was a chance that some genius with time on her hands would fall from the sky and beg to join the team before Regionals.

It might not have been a
good
chance, but it was still possible.

I tuned out the rest of the lunchroom conversation, which had switched back to the big game. Part of me wondered what we would talk about when it was finally over.

Hopefully what a great win it had been.

We still had to make it through a couple of days before we played Hogarth, and the Pioneers were like a big bag of firecrackers, waiting to be lit.

I should have known one of us would get burned.

The day had finally come.

I turned off my alarm clock and wiped all the crusty junk out of my eyes. I was pretty sure I'd had about eleven minutes of sleep, after lying awake and staring at the ceiling for most of the night, pulling on blankets and throwing them off, over and over again.

I stood up, then waited for my brain to catch up with my body.

Game day.

Owen Evans vs. Dante Powers.

For real
.

I stretched and walked to the bathroom, feeling nervous. I wished I could fast-forward through the whole day, straight to the tip-off. I wished I knew what was going to happen.

I spent my whole shower with my eyes closed, picturing myself being carried on the shoulders of my teammates after defeating the Huskies by the most insane lead in Pioneers' history.

I was about to play against the best kid in the state and hopefully beat him.

How cool was that?

I met up with Russ in the kitchen, where he was eating a banana while Mom packed our lunches.

“Big day,” Russ said, looking up from the textbook he was studying.

“Big
win
,” I corrected, pouring myself a glass of milk and making my way to the tower of toast at the center of the table. I took a couple of pieces and coated them with crunchy peanut butter. My favorite.

“I hope so,” Russ said, taking another bite of banana.

He already had strands of it stuck to his braces and I hated to think what his smile would look like by the time he finished eating it.

“It's gonna happen, Russ. Hogarth is going down, just like everyone else we've played this season.”

“Seriously?”

“We're on a roll, and nothing's going to stop us.”

“Not even Dante Powers?” he asked, looking happy to hear it.

“
Especially
not Dante Powers.”

When I got to school, the clock stopped.

Well, it felt like it, anyway.

Every class seemed twice as long as normal and even study hall dragged. By the time the lunch bell rang, I felt like I'd been sitting in social studies for six weeks solid.

“So,” Chris said, “you guys ready for the game?”

“Definitely,” Paul said, nodding. “I think we can take them.”

“I'm with Paul,” I told him and the rest of the table. “It's our time. We're having the best season ever and a bunch of hype isn't going to mess that up.”

“Dante Powers isn't hype,” Nate said. “He's a legend.”

“He's a twelve-year-old, just like us. And he'll need a break sometime,” I told him, thinking about what Russ had said. “That's what we need to concentrate on.”

“I wonder what Coach has planned for a starting lineup,” Chris said.

“I think he should stick with what we've been doing,” Paul said. “It's working for us, isn't it?”

“Not for all of us,” I muttered.

“What?” Chris asked.

“Nothing,” I lied, concentrating on my sandwich.

And thinking about being stuck on the bench was all it took to bring on a bad mood.

After lunch, Russ walked with me to my locker.

“You've got to snap out of it, Owen,” he said.

“Snap out of what?”

“This funk. Your attitude about the game.”

“Look, I already know what's going to happen, and I can't help feeling crummy about it, okay?”

Russ frowned. “You don't know what's going to happen.”

“Come on, Russ. You're a smart guy. You know we're going to warm the bench while Mitch and Marcus wow everyone again.”

He shook his head. “You can't think like that.”

“Yeah, I can.”

“Owen,” he said, grabbing my arm to stop me from walking. “I'm serious.”

“So am I. I've been looking forward to this game all season and it's already ruined.”

“No, it isn't. In a couple of hours, the ref will blow his whistle and anything can happen. If you don't start, you'll still play at some point. And whenever you're out there, you have to play as hard as you can to make those minutes count.”

“But—”

“And when you're on the bench, you've got to do the things you've always done, like cheer the guys on and show your Pioneer spirit.”