turned and pushed open the door at Amazing Ray’s 99-Cent Store. In smaller letters under the name were the words AND UP.
“Gotta get a new notebook,” Dunk said.
“For what?”
“History. I can’t believe how many notes we have to take.”
“You kidding?” Fiorelli said. “I’ve only taken, like, six pages all year.”
“Then you must have a photogenic memory or something. If I don’t write it down, it’s gone.”
They entered the store and walked past stacks of paper towels and laundry detergent and boxes of cereal and cases of soda. Toward the back of one of the rows, they found the school supplies.
“Here’s a good one,” said Fiorelli, picking up a notebook with a hot-pink cover and a sticker that aid GIRL POWER. “Just your style, Dunk.”
“Real funny.” Dunk grabbed one that had a New York Giants logo on it, flipped through it to make sure the pages were lined, then looked at the price tag. “This must be one of the ‘and up’ items,” he said. “A dollar fifty-nine.”
He found a plain green one for ninety-nine cents instead.
They left the store and spotted Jared Owen walking slowly toward them. Jared was the starting center, a tall, lean kid with quick moves. He and Dunk had been going at each other hard in the tryouts, but there was no ill feeling between them. Both were competitive. And for Dunk, there was a lot at stake: a place on the team.
“What’d you do, stay after practice for extra credit?” Fiorelli asked Jared.
Jared stared at the sidewalk. He looked upset. “Just talking to the coach,” he mumbled.
“Must have been some mean talk,” Fiorelli said. “What’d he do, ask you to switch to cheerleading?”
“No.” Jared practically spit out the word.
“Hey, I’m just kidding around, man.”
“Very funny,” Jared said. He started walking again, much more quickly.
“Where you rushing off to?”
“What do you think? I’m late for dinner. Aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” Fiorelli replied. “But it’ll keep.”
They watched Jared walk off. “Something’s bothering him,” Dunk said.
“No kidding. He’s been like that lately. Moody, you know?”
“Seems okay on the basketball court.”
“Maybe, but he’s been acting strange off it.”
A group of commuters were getting off a bus at the corner as the boys crossed Seventh Street. Dunk and Jason moved to the left to avoid them.
“Maybe Jared’s having trouble with his grades,” Dunk suggested.
“Nah. He takes even more notes than you do. It’s something else.”
“Maybe he’s got an injury he’s not telling us about.”
Jason laughed. “No way. He whines about a mosquito bite. Believe me, if he was hurt, we’d all know about it.”
“Probably.” Whatever it was would pass, Dunk was sure. After all, what could a popular guy like Jared have to worry about? Especially during basketball season.
Dunk had plenty to worry about, though. He was worried that he might not even have a basketball season. Tryouts were tough on the nervous system. Made it hard to sleep at night.
Whatever happened, the wait wouldn’t be much longer.
2
Cut Day
D unk carried his sneakers out to the gym the next afternoon and took a seat on the floor, leaning against the wall. A few guys were shooting baskets at the far end of the court. Spencer was on the floor nearby, stretching.
“Lots of scrimmaging today,” Spencer said, looking up. He was the starting point guard and a vocal leader of the team.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You gotta figure Coach has nine or ten guys already picked, and maybe five or six in contention for the last few spots. So he’ll be watching real close what guys can do under game conditions. Guys like you .”
Dunk took a deep breath and tried to relax, but his heart was already pounding. He’d done all right during the first two days of tryouts, but he was well aware that his performance today would be all-important. Today was cut day. A lot of players would have their hopes
“Gotta get a new notebook,” Dunk said.
“For what?”
“History. I can’t believe how many notes we have to take.”
“You kidding?” Fiorelli said. “I’ve only taken, like, six pages all year.”
“Then you must have a photogenic memory or something. If I don’t write it down, it’s gone.”
They entered the store and walked past stacks of paper towels and laundry detergent and boxes of cereal and cases of soda. Toward the back of one of the rows, they found the school supplies.
“Here’s a good one,” said Fiorelli, picking up a notebook with a hot-pink cover and a sticker that aid GIRL POWER. “Just your style, Dunk.”
“Real funny.” Dunk grabbed one that had a New York Giants logo on it, flipped through it to make sure the pages were lined, then looked at the price tag. “This must be one of the ‘and up’ items,” he said. “A dollar fifty-nine.”
He found a plain green one for ninety-nine cents instead.
They left the store and spotted Jared Owen walking slowly toward them. Jared was the starting center, a tall, lean kid with quick moves. He and Dunk had been going at each other hard in the tryouts, but there was no ill feeling between them. Both were competitive. And for Dunk, there was a lot at stake: a place on the team.
“What’d you do, stay after practice for extra credit?” Fiorelli asked Jared.
Jared stared at the sidewalk. He looked upset. “Just talking to the coach,” he mumbled.
“Must have been some mean talk,” Fiorelli said. “What’d he do, ask you to switch to cheerleading?”
“No.” Jared practically spit out the word.
“Hey, I’m just kidding around, man.”
“Very funny,” Jared said. He started walking again, much more quickly.
“Where you rushing off to?”
“What do you think? I’m late for dinner. Aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” Fiorelli replied. “But it’ll keep.”
They watched Jared walk off. “Something’s bothering him,” Dunk said.
“No kidding. He’s been like that lately. Moody, you know?”
“Seems okay on the basketball court.”
“Maybe, but he’s been acting strange off it.”
A group of commuters were getting off a bus at the corner as the boys crossed Seventh Street. Dunk and Jason moved to the left to avoid them.
“Maybe Jared’s having trouble with his grades,” Dunk suggested.
“Nah. He takes even more notes than you do. It’s something else.”
“Maybe he’s got an injury he’s not telling us about.”
Jason laughed. “No way. He whines about a mosquito bite. Believe me, if he was hurt, we’d all know about it.”
“Probably.” Whatever it was would pass, Dunk was sure. After all, what could a popular guy like Jared have to worry about? Especially during basketball season.
Dunk had plenty to worry about, though. He was worried that he might not even have a basketball season. Tryouts were tough on the nervous system. Made it hard to sleep at night.
Whatever happened, the wait wouldn’t be much longer.
2
Cut Day
D unk carried his sneakers out to the gym the next afternoon and took a seat on the floor, leaning against the wall. A few guys were shooting baskets at the far end of the court. Spencer was on the floor nearby, stretching.
“Lots of scrimmaging today,” Spencer said, looking up. He was the starting point guard and a vocal leader of the team.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You gotta figure Coach has nine or ten guys already picked, and maybe five or six in contention for the last few spots. So he’ll be watching real close what guys can do under game conditions. Guys like you .”
Dunk took a deep breath and tried to relax, but his heart was already pounding. He’d done all right during the first two days of tryouts, but he was well aware that his performance today would be all-important. Today was cut day. A lot of players would have their hopes
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