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Authors: W. C. Mack

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Plastic wrap on the doors. I swear, my brother was a genius.

I showered and got dressed, then stopped by Jackson's room so we could hit the cafeteria together.

“Are you okay?” I asked when I saw his face.

He had huge bags under his eyes, like he hadn't slept at all.

“Yeah. I'm just nervous about playing in front of my dad.”

“Really?” I couldn't imagine feeling that way about my own dad.

“He'll tell me I did a great job, like he always does. But this time I want it to be true.”

“Hey, you played awesome yesterday.”

“You think so?” he asked, like he didn't believe me.

“Definitely. The five of us make a good team.”

He was quiet for a minute. “You know, he'll be pretty
happy that I made some friends this time. Like, real friends, you know?”

I nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.

After a short session in the morning, all of the campers had to go back to the dorm to pack up their stuff so we'd be ready to leave after the tournament.

I had to get three guys to sit on my suitcase, just so I could zip it up. I hadn't even worn half the stuff I brought!

Around ten o'clock, the parents started to show up.

After Mom and Dad gave me and Russ some huge hugs (I would have been embarrassed, but all of the other parents were doing the exact same thing), Dad headed over to the gym with me while Mom and Russ left for his Olympic thing.

“Did you have a good time?” Dad asked, while we were crossing the courtyard.

“Definitely,” I told him. “I learned a lot.”

How weird that I wasn't talking about basketball.

I helped Dad find a spot in the bleachers and was about to head down to the court, when he said, “Whoa! Is that Roberto Farina?”

“Yeah,” I said, taking a peek at Jackson's dad. The guy was huge! “His son was here for camp.”

When I met up with my teammates down on the floor,
we only had a couple of minutes until the tip-off for the first game.

“Are we ready to do this?” I asked the guys.

“Totally,” Danny said, while the others nodded.

I noticed that Jackson still looked totally freaked out.

We made it through the first game like it was nothing. Our communication was awesome, the ball handling was sweet, and the points just kept coming.

I concentrated really hard on passing the ball to whoever had the best shot.

“You need to shoot, too, Owen,” T. J. said when we took a break.

“Yeah,” Danny said. “You've gotta go for it.”

I listened to what they said and when we got back to the game, I took the shots I was sure of, but passed when I wasn't.

Game two was a snap as well, and when it came down to the final showdown between us and the remaining team, I felt like the tournament was ours.

We played like a well-oiled machine, and it didn't even matter whether I was the piece that scored or assisted.

It just felt awesome to be part of it.

But when it came down to the final seconds, we were tied.

T. J. dribbled down the court and passed to Big Mike, who spun around to lose a guard. He passed to Danny and I matched their pace. Once we got close to the basket, I realized that I was wide open.

I didn't have to say anything, because Danny saw me and hurled the ball.

The game-winning shot would be the easiest one of the day.

I couldn't believe it was mine to take!

And that's when I saw Jackson.

Obviously, I'm all about winning. I'm into scoring baskets and making plays. But in that second, I realized that every now and then you have to take a time-out.

“Jackson!” I shouted, holding up the ball.

He blinked hard and stared at me until he realized what I was doing. Surprised, he lifted his hands in the air.

I sent the ball flying over a sea of arms and straight to my target.

And in the final two seconds on the clock, he took the shot.

Swish.

He won the game for us.

We all started jumping around and whooping, but as loud as we were, I swear I heard Roberto Farina cheering over the rest of the crowd.

I stood next to Jackson while the awards for the week
were handed out. And when Roberto Farina put the MVP medal around T. J's neck, I didn't even mind.

Well, of course I
minded
. I wanted it for myself. But the thing was, no one should get an award for
one day
of doing the right thing. An MVP got it right all the time—in practice, at game time, and even off the court.

T. J. was the right choice.

When it was all over, every camper was smiling, knowing what an awesome week it had been.

“Thank you, Owen,” Jackson said as I started to head toward the stairs to meet Dad.

“You're the one who scored,” I reminded him.

“You know what I mean.”

And I did.

“Hey, can I get your phone number or e-mail or whatever?” I asked. “I want to stay in touch with the team.”

“Sure.”

We shared contact info with each other and the pranksters, all of us promising to try to come back next year.

“So,” Jackson said once we were alone in the crowd. He looked over at his dad, who was surrounded by people shaking his hand and asking for autographs. The NBA star kept moving toward Jackson, wearing a gigantic smile. “I guess you want to meet my dad.”

I thought about what it would be like to wonder if people only liked you because of who your dad was.

It would totally stink.

As much as I wanted to meet the legendary Roberto Farina, pose for a photo with him, and shake his hand, I let it go.

“Nah,” I said.

Jackson blinked hard. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” I told him. “Maybe I can meet him at camp next year or something.”

“For sure,” he said, grinning.

I said good-bye and watched Jackson cut through the crowd. I smiled when Roberto Farina, NBA superstar, lifted his kid off the ground in a huge hug.

It was pretty cool.

“Hey,” Dad said, from behind me.

I turned around and he gave me a high five, then a hug of my own.

When he let go, he said, “Mom just texted to say that Russ got the award for most improved athlete.”

“Cool,” I said, grinning. My brother, the
athlete
.

“So, are you ready to head out?”

“Yeah. No, wait! Do you have your camera?”

“I sure do,” he said, pulling it out of his pocket.

“Can you take a picture of me?” I glanced at the crowded court, then back at Dad. “And maybe catch Farina in the background?”

Putting Jackson's feelings first didn't mean I had to walk away empty-handed.

When Dad got the perfect shot, we walked toward the stairs.

“You know, you were pretty amazing out there, O,” he said, rubbing my head. “I'm really proud of you.”

“It's just basketball,” I told him.

“Hey,” he said, looking me in the eye. “That last pass was a lot bigger than basketball.”

I turned to see Jackson grinning at his father and knew Dad was right.

Some things really were bigger than basketball.

Not a
lot
of things, but
some
.

Acknowledgments

I'd like to thank my Kiwi agent, Sally Harding, for our twelve-year partnership and the eleven books she has guided to publication (so far!).

Huge thanks as well to the fine folks at the Cooke Agency for their kindness and diplomacy when dealing with fretful authors.

And finally, I'd like to give big shout-outs to Nicole Gastonguay, designer of three amazing covers for the Athlete vs. Mathlete series, and to Bloomsbury's copyediting team for making sense of it all.

Note on the Author

W. C. Mack is the author of all the books in the Athlete vs. Mathlete series, including
Athlete vs. Mathlete
and
Double Dribble
, as well as numerous books for children. Raised in Vancouver, she now lives in Portland, Oregon.

www.wcmack.com

By the Same Author

Athlete vs. Mathlete

Double Dribble

Time-Out

Copyright © 2014 by Wendy C. Smith

All rights reserved.You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce, or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages. For information, write to Bloomsbury Press, 1385 Broadway, New York, New York, 10018.

First published in the United States of America in July 2014
by Bloomsbury Children's Books
www.bloomsbury.com

Bloomsbury is a registered trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Mack, W. C.
Athlete vs. mathlete : time-out / by W. C. Mack.
pages   cm
Summary: Owen wins the last spot at the local basketball camp, leaving his twin, Russ, to join the Multisport Sampler camp, but while Russ is inspired to study various sports and make sense of them, Owen is frustrated by not being the star.
ISBN 978-1-61963-303-2 (e-book)
[1. Twins—Fiction. 2. Brothers—Fiction. 3. Sports camps—Fiction. 4. Competition (Psychology)—Fiction. 5. Basketball—Fiction. 6. Sports—Fiction.] I. Title. II. Title: Athlete versus mathlete, time-out. III. Title: Time-out.
PZ7.M18996Atm 2014    [Fic]—dc23    2013038577

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BOOK: Time-Out
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