Snowboard Champ by Matt Christopher, Paul Mantell Page B

looked so bad by comparison. Well, maybe next year kids wouldn’t be so afraid to enter.
    Matt lined up for his practice run and felt Riley’s angry eyes on him. Things were great around this town until you showed up, Matt could almost hear him thinking.
    Well, great for
who?
Matt was sure things would be better for most kids around here once Riley Hammett was taken down a peg or two.
    He did an easy practice run just to get the feel of the course. He had a program in mind for the various turns in the half-pipe, but he didn’t want to give them away beforehand. Unlike the ramp slope, the half-pipe was icy today. Matt could feel himself slipping a little here and there. He’d have to be careful on his runs, but then again, so would everybody else.
    Now the real runs began. Sally fell right near the top, but this was not fatal on the half-pipe. Since each run consisted of several airs, it was possible to regain enough speed and momentum to score a few points farther down.
    Perkins fell, too. Twice. After his run, he sat on the bench near the half-pipe, head in his hands. Matt tried to catch his eye to give him a thumbs-up. Before he could, Riley sat down next to the bigger boy, threw an arm around his hunched shoulders, and started whispering in his ear. Perkins listened for a minute, then sat bolt upright and stared at Riley with what looked like disbelief. Riley shrugged, got up, and left, a nasty smile playing about his lips.
    Moments later, Perkins undid his bindings and waved his arms, indicating that he was through. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Riley had said something that had convinced Perkins to bow out.
    Matt felt sad for him. Winning wasn’t everything, he knew. Just finishing the competition was worth something, too. It showed you cared, and that you tried, and that you didn’t give up. It took courage. And Perkins had been
dis
-couraged.
    Matt started his first run. Ollie here, mute there, stale, method, stale, and a final 180 — and he was done. A clean first run. Enough to put more pressure on Riley. From his spot among the crowd at the bottom, he watched as Riley started down the half-pipe.
    From the start, Riley was brilliant. His tricks were more distinctive, his airs higher and longer, and his speed greater than Matt’s. But Matt had felt the slipperiness of the slope, and he knew Riley was playing a dangerous game. Sure enough, near the bottom, Riley wiped out, slipping out from under on a landing. He slid to the bottom and pounded on the hard snow with his fists in frustration.
    Matt could sense final victory almost within his grasp. If he made a clean run on his second attempt, there was no way Riley could catch him.
    Riley was approaching him now. The two of them were a little apart from the crowd and just out of earshot. “I guess you think you’re the big cheese,” Riley said in a low growl.
    “Not really,” Matt said.
    “You’ve been lucky so far,” Riley said. “But it can’t last. You’re not that good, Harper.”
    “We’ll see,” Matt said, willing himself to stay calm in the hopes that Riley would give up.
    But Riley didn’t. “Where’s your mother?” Riley taunted. “She couldn’t come to see you today? They wouldn’t let her out on a weekend pass?”
    “You don’t know anything about my mother!” Matt snapped.
    “Oh, yeah? She dumped you here, didn’t she? Doesn’t that say enough about her? About you?”
    “Take that back,” Matt said between clenched teeth.
    “Make me,” Riley said, taking a step closer.
    Matt raised his fist, then slowly lowered it. “Oh, no, you don’t,” he said. “Say what you want now. We’ll see what you say later.”
    He was angry now, and no matter how much he tried not to think of Riley as he prepared his run, he couldn’t help it.
    Riley went first this time, and Matt had to admit it was a beautiful run. Perfect. In fact, it was so good that it might put him at the top if Matt didn’t do his very best.
    Now he