Road Trip (12 page)

“Jump!” L.B. screamed.

“It won't kill you,” Kia called out. “At least it didn't kill me! Don't be afraid.”

I was going to yell back something about not being afraid, but actually I was.

“What are you waiting for?” David asked.

What was I waiting for? I either jumped or turned around and started to climb down. Instead I stood frozen to the spot. My feet didn't want to move, but my mind was racing, trying to figure a way out of it and — I smiled to myself.

“I'm waiting for the rest of you!” I called out.

There was no answer from below.

“We're a team… remember? I'm not jumping until the rest of you come up here too!”

No way they were all going to come up here, and if they didn't come up then I'd have an excuse to climb down.

“Teams do everything together!” I called out.

Now it was their turn to be frozen. Nobody moved. Nobody said a word. I'd wait a few more seconds and then I'd climb down.

“I'm coming right up!” Tristan yelled back.

He started running toward the tower, and like a floodgate being opened the rest of the team came running after him.

A loud whistle screamed out. “No running on the deck!” yelled the lifeguard.

Either they didn't hear her or didn't care, because they kept running to the tower. Within seconds I felt the vibrations coming up the tower as they started to climb up the stairs beneath me. Within seconds Tristan appeared on the platform, followed by Jamie and David and Al and the top half of Jordan.

“Is everybody coming?” I asked in disbelief.

“Everybody,” Tristan answered. “Go ahead, jump.”

There were now eleven bodies on the ladder below me. There was only one way off this tower. Boy, was this stupid. Boy, was I stupid. I walked to the end, bounced once and flung myself off.

“You have to get to sleep, Nick,” my father whispered as he bent down beside me. He'd been over in the corner of the room, reading by a small light.

“I've been trying,” I whispered back.

“It's a big day tomorrow and you need to be rested.”

“I know. Is everybody else asleep?” I asked, even though I was pretty sure I already knew the answer. I hadn't heard a sound from anybody.

“They all dropped off immediately. It was a pretty long day. Aren't you tired?”

“My body's tired,” I admitted.

Between the games and the swimming and all the excitement, I really was tired.

“Can't shut off your mind, right?” he asked.

I nodded my head.

“Thinking about today's games and wondering about tomorrow's?” my father asked.

Again I nodded. That was certainly part of it. I was also thinking about our team “swim.” It had been such an incredible rush to jump off the tower that we all did it again and again and again. I must have jumped five times. If swimming would weaken our legs, what would all that climbing up stairs do for them? It was the strangest thing, but, even though we were doing something we probably shouldn't be doing, it was the first time I'd felt like we were all together – all part of the same team. It felt good.

There was also another reason I couldn't sleep. I knew something was going on. Coach and my father hadn't come to the pool for a long time. Thank goodness nobody was on the tower when they showed up. And when they came, they huddled together and kept on talking and both had serious looks on their faces. I didn't know what, but something was wrong – something to do with the rules.

“Dad,” I whispered, “what's eligibility?”

My father didn't answer.

“Dad?” I asked. “Did you hear me?”

“I was just thinking,” he said. “You don't know what eligibility means either?” I asked.

Again he chuckled. “Eligibility means that you are allowed to do something or be somewhere. The question is whether I should I talk to you about it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Maybe it would be best if I left it to Len to talk to your whole team together.”

I sat up in bed. “Do you mean we're not allowed to play?”

Again my father didn't answer right away. “It's not the whole team and it's not definite. Nothing's being decided until tomorrow… probably after our quarterfinal game.”

“So maybe we can't even play?”

“You can play, Nick. Most of you can play no matter what they decide.”

“Most of us?” I asked.

“All of you, except for one player.”

“Who? Who can't play?”

“Nick, it isn't definite yet, and I've already said more than I should have.” He paused. “This isn't exactly the best thing to do to help you get to sleep, is it?”

It was my turn to chuckle. “Not exactly.”

“Nothing's going to be decided tonight, so there's nothing you can do about it. Just go to sleep.”

“But —

“No buts,” he said softly. “Just roll over and
close your eyes and get to sleep. Okay?”

“I'll try,” I answered, and tried to snuggle down into the covers. There was no way I was going to get to sleep now for a long time. It didn't help that I could hear Kia gently snoring away in the bed next to me. She could sleep through a hurricane. And she complained about me being too loud! I wondered which player it was. It had to be one of the new players, because the rest of us had played rep before and nobody ever complained about us not being eligible.

“Dad?”

There was a deep sigh. “Yes, Nick?”

“It isn't me, is it?”

“You?”

“I'm not the one who's not supposed to play, am I?”

“Of course not, Nick. Why would you even think that?”

“I don't know… I just worry sometimes.”

There was silence.

“Dad… it's one of the new players, isn't it?”

My question was greeted by silence.

“Dad?”

“Nick… we'll do the best we can… just have faith that your coach and I will take care of things. Can you do that?”

“I can try,” I said. But trying to believe wasn't going to get me any closer to sleeping tonight.

I put up another shot. Air ball — again. The floor was the only thing I'd managed to hit in the entire warm-up.

“You're going to have some fantastic game,” Coach said as he tossed me my ball.

“I am?” I asked in disbelief.

“Sure. That is, if you believe in that old myth that a bad warm-up means a good game. Because if you do believe that, then you're going to have the very best game of your entire life.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I'm trying.”

“Probably too hard. Everybody's trying too hard. The whole team looks tired,” Coach said. “I guess four games in one day was pretty hard.”

Not to mention the trips up the tower at the pool – and believe me, nobody was going to mention it.

Coach walked over to the bench, then blew his whistle really loud, the sound cutting through all the other noise in the gym.

“Everybody come on in!” he yelled.

We all grabbed our balls and started for the bench. “Why does he want us in?” Kia asked. “We're not through with our warm-ups.”

I had a sinking feeling that maybe he was going to tell us about somebody not being able to play.

“Gather around me,” Coach said.

We all sat down on the floor.

“You know that there were forty teams entered in this tournament. Forty. Forty very good teams. And now? There are only eight teams left. Thirty-two have packed their bags and are on their way home. You have to be incredibly proud of yourselves for getting this far. I know I'm certainly proud of you.”

It was nice of him to say that. Was this his way of softening the blow when he told somebody that it was all over?

“And if we lose today, we can leave here with our heads held high. We did our best,” he continued. “I couldn't help but notice that you all seem tight, nervous, not your usual selves.”

Other members of the team nodded in agreement. I'd been so busy thinking that I hadn't even noticed how anybody else was doing.

“This has to be the biggest crowd any of you have ever played before,” he said.

I looked over at the bleachers. They looked to be about a quarter filled, and I'd been told that capacity was around six thousand, so that meant there were close to fifteen hundred people here.

“Not to mention the cameras, and, of course, our good friend, Ms. Parris,” Coach continued.

She'd tried to talk to us when we came in. Coach
told her to leave us all alone. She was getting more pushy and Coach was getting less polite.

“Just try to forget all about them. Forget all about all the people in the stands. Just think about playing some ball and having some fun. Win or lose, life goes on. Understand?”

“Sure, Coach,” Kia said. “But if it's all the same with you, I'd rather we go on with life after
winning
.”

Coach's face broke into a gigantic grin and he started to laugh. “I couldn't have said it better myself. Everybody take a couple more shots while I figure out our starting line-up.”

“Time out!” Coach screamed. “Time out!”

I wanted to run to the sidelines, but I felt like I had nothing left to give. It didn't really matter, though. There was less than three seconds to go and we were down by two. There wasn't enough time to get the ball down court for a shot. We'd come back from being fifteen points down at the half, fighting and scrapping and getting this close. Unfortunately, close wasn't good enough.

“Okay, everybody, listen up,” Coach said. “We have one last chance.”

I felt like saying not much of a chance, but I didn't say anything.

“I want Jordan, L.B. and Kia to go to the hoop,
be right under the net. Mark, you stay right out at the top of the key. Nick, you're putting the ball in.”

“I don't know if I can throw it that far,” I said, looking down at the far net.

“You don't have to
throw
it at all.”

“But I don't understand.”

“I don't want you to throw the ball. I want you to roll it.”

“Roll it?” I questioned.

“Like a bowling ball, right to Mark.” “But why am I doing that?”

“For three reasons. First, I know you can't throw it that far – nobody on the team can. Second, they're not expecting us to roll the ball. And third, because the clock doesn't start until somebody touches the ball. You roll it down the court, Mark picks it up and puts up a shot. Simple,” he said, and shrugged. “And Mark, remember you have virtually no time. Just grab the ball, spin and shoot. If it goes in you're a hero. If you miss we all understand you did your best.”

Mark nodded. His face was so serious and solemn. Mark had been my friend long enough for me to know that if he did miss, he'd blame himself, even if nobody else did.

“Get in position,” Coach said.

We started out. As I moved beside the ref I looked over and saw Coach bending over right
beside the timer, saying something right into his ear. Of course I figured he was reminding — or warning — him about how he better not start the clock until the ball reached Mark.

The other team broke out of its huddle. They'd already started to celebrate the victory. I hated when teams did that. The only thing worse than a bad loser was a bad winner. One of their men – the man covering the throw-in – sauntered up to stand right in front of me.

“Why even bother?” he said. “This one is in the books. We win and your team goes home.”

He was right. This was almost impossible, but still… there was a chance.

“You're going to feel awfully stupid when we make this shot.”

There was something about the way I'd said what I said that took away that smug look on his face for a split second. “Yeah, right,” he said, and the look of confidence returned to his face. “Like I'm
really
afraid.”

The ref handed me the ball and started counting off the time. Everybody was where they were supposed to be. All I had to do was make the throw… I mean, the roll. I stepped slightly to the side to avoid the man covering the throw-in. I reared back and heaved the ball with all my might. It bounced and skittered and skimmed across the floor, finally rolling… straight toward Mark! His man was well
off under the net, expecting some sort of long bomb to our players under the net. Then, catching a glimpse of the ball coming, everybody broke out toward the ball. Mark stepped out to reach the ball first. He was just outside the three-point line. He grabbed the ball and all in one motion spun around and shot and the buzzer sounded and the ball went up and up and hit the rim and spun around and dropped! I looked for the ref — he signaled that the basket counted, and counted as a three-pointer! We'd won! We'd won!

I screamed and ran the length of the court, reaching Mark at almost the same instant that everybody else on the court and from the bench reached him. We all tumbled over in a massive pile of arms, legs, knees and elbows!