Wild Card Page 2
“What’s for dinner?” Ronde asked. “I’m hungry!”
“Starving!” Tiki echoed.
“Well, I’m afraid you boys are just going to have to heat up the mac and cheese I made. I’ve got to get to work.”
“Work?” Tiki said.
“What work?” Ronde asked. “Didn’t you just work all day?”
“I did, but I’ve got a new job now. I’m the new store manager at Kroger’s.”
“Why’d you quit the old job?” Tiki wondered.
“I didn’t quit,” their mom said, not taking her eyes off the road. “This is a second job. But don’t worry—it’s only three nights a week.”
Tiki was about to open his mouth and ask her why she wanted two jobs, but he caught the look Ronde was giving him.
Tiki knew what that look meant. Times were hard. People were getting fired from their jobs all over town. Houses were up for sale all over the place. Tiki remembered Ms. Colton in social studies class calling it a “recession.”
If their mom was taking a second job, on top of her first job at the Virginia Skyline Girl Scout Council, Tiki knew it had to be for a very good reason. He wished he could do something to help out, like babysitting or delivering newspapers.
But with school, and football, and homework, and studying for tests, by the time the weekend rolled around, neither he nor Ronde had much energy left for a job.
They weren’t little kids anymore, after all. Tiki remembered back then, when they played football out in the street nonstop, from morning till night. Still, he couldn’t just let his mom do all that work without offering to help, could he?
“Mom,” he said, “I was thinking, maybe I could get a paper route. You know, go around on my bike before school and—”
She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “If I ever need you boys to help, I’ll let you know, all right? But I sure do hope that day never comes.” Tiki could tell she meant it.
“Why are you sad, Mom?” Tiki asked her.
“I’m just so proud of you boys,” she said. “Don’t you worry about me, Tiki and Ronde. Hard work never hurt anybody. I’ll take care of putting food on the table. You boys just keep bringing home those good grades.”
“What good grades?” Tiki asked, suddenly forgetting all his worries about money.
“Did our report cards come in the mail?” Ronde asked, leaning forward excitedly in the backseat.
“They sure did,” Mrs. Barber said, beaming.
“Mom, did you open them?” Tiki moaned. He had worked hard, but he hadn’t seen his exam grades, and science was hard. He almost hadn’t even finished the test!
“Well, the envelopes weren’t sealed,” she said, chuckling. “Besides, they were addressed to me.”
She pulled the car to the curb in front of their house. “Don’t worry, boys. You did just fine. Now, out you go. I’ll be back around eleven. You’d best be asleep, both of you. I’ll come in and kiss you good night.”
The boys got out of the car and watched as it disappeared around the corner at the end of the street.
Tiki shook his head. He and Ronde had the best mom in the whole world, no doubt about it. And even if it meant going blind from too much studying, he was going to bring home all As for her for the rest of the school year—no, for the rest of his life!
He turned to go inside, and saw the look on his brother’s face. Tiki knew Ronde was thinking right along with him. Funny how they thought as much alike as they looked.
Tiki wondered if it would always be that way. It wasn’t as true now as it used to be when they were little kids, way back in sixth grade.
“I’m hungry,” Ronde said, breaking the spell. “Let’s eat!”
They ran inside and checked out their grades while the mac and cheese heated up in the oven.
“I got an A in Biology,” Tiki said.
“So what’s new?” Ronde cracked. “You always get As in science.”
“Yeah, what’d you get, big shot?”
“B plus.”
“Ha!”
“But I got an A plus in math—and that’s harder than biology.”
“No, it’s not. That’s totally bogus!” Tiki didn’t want to admit he’d gotten only an A in math.
“You know,” Tiki said, “if I don’t make the NFL someday, I think I might become a scientist. Maybe even an astronaut, so I could check out if there’s life on Mars.”
“You sure do have your head in the clouds,” Ronde cracked, giggling. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were from another planet.”
“Oh yeah, smart guy? How’d you do in history?”
“Never mind. I got as many As as you did, I bet.”
“No way!”
“Yes way.”
They counted. Tiki had one more A than Ronde. “So what?” Ronde said, shrugging it off. “I’m not gonna be an astronaut. While you’re up on Mars, I’ll be down here in the Super Bowl, waving up to you.”
This went on until the smell from the oven told them their food was ready to eat. That put an end to the argument, at least for the moment.
“Man!” Ronde said, rubbing his belly and staring at his empty plate. “That was goo-oood!”
“Mom is an awesome cook, isn’t she?” Tiki said, taking the plates to the sink and rinsing them off. “Come on, lazybones. Help me with these dishes. Let’s leave her a clean sink to come home to.”
They did the dishes, and soon the conversation got back to the big game. “I thought Coach was going to give you the game ball,” Ronde said.
“Nah,” Tiki said, smiling. “Adam deserved it. Can you see anybody else putting that ball between the uprights under all that pressure?”
“He’s our team MVP so far this season,” Ronde agreed. “Hands down. Hey, let’s call and give him noise about it, just for laughs!”
That sounded like a good idea to Tiki. They’d joke around and hash over the game together. Adam was the funniest kid they knew. Half the time, he was cracking hilarious jokes, and the other half, he had no idea he was being funny. Either way, he was a great guy. They’d all been friends since way back in Peewee League.
Adam had never been much of an athlete. It was amazing he’d made the football team at all. Who would have thought he’d turn out to be such a good kicker?
It was amazing, Tiki thought, how many hidden talents people had. His mom, for instance—she’d stopped a polluting factory from being built in the neighborhood, single-handed! Well, almost. But he’d never known before then that she was such a great leader.
Adam’s mother answered the phone—and to Tiki’s surprise she didn’t sound too happy. “Adam’s in his room,” she said. “And he’s not coming down. You’ll have to see him tomorrow in school.”
Tiki hung up, puzzled. Ronde came back in from the living room, where he’d been listening on the other extension. “What was that all about?” he asked.
Tiki shrugged. “I have no clue. But it sure is weird.”
“She sounded mad,” Ronde said. “You’d think she’d be proud of Adam, after he won the big game like that.”
“She wasn’t at the game,” Tiki reminded Ronde. “She never is.”
“Does she work?”
Tiki shook his head. “Nah. She doesn’t like sports, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right,” Ronde said. “Oh, well. We can tease Adam about that, too, huh?”
“Sure thing,” Tiki said, laughing even though he didn’t think it was so funny.
They did their homework and went to bed, but Tiki had trouble sleeping. Across the room he could hear Ronde tossing and turning too.
The house was too quiet without their mom moving around downstairs, watching TV or cooking or talking on the phone. Every little creak and groan of the old wooden beams made Tiki’s eyes pop open.
But it wasn’t fear that was keeping him awake. A little flame of worry was burning inside him. Something was going on at Adam’s house, he was sure—and whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
From across the room he heard Ronde sigh.
Twins think alike, he told himself.
• • •
“Honor roll, dude!” Tiki bragged, holding up his report card for the whole lunch table to see.
“Gimme that!” said Paco. “This is garbage, man. You stole a blank report card from the office and typed in the grades yourself!”
Tiki laughed and shook his head. He and wide receiver Joey Gallagher had the highest grades at the table, with Ronde only slightly behind. Most of the kids had a lot of Bs and Cs, with a few Ds sprinkled in here and there. Those Ds might be good for laughs now, but they were a real pain when you had to explain them to your parents.
“Hey, it’s only midterms,” Cody Hansen pointed out. “By the time the term ends I’ll have a higher average than any of you guys. You’ll see.”
Cody, the team’s quarterback, was getting less annoying. He was no longer unbearable as he’d been back in September when the term and the season had started. But he still had a little of the old braggart in him. “When it’s time for finals, football season’ll be over, and there’ll be more time to study.”
“Not if we make it to the state finals, dude,” Fred Soule said. Fred was the team’s other wide receiver. He and Joey were both ninth graders, as was Cody.
“True,” Cody said. “And we will get there—for sure.”
The Eagles’ confidence was sky-high at the moment. Six straight wins will do that for a team.
It was a huge change from earlier in the season, when Cody just couldn’t get in sync with the rest of them, and nobody could figure out which way the new coach was leading them.
But ever since they’d started working together, and really getting behind Coach Wheeler’s system, they’d been total world-beaters. They hadn’t lost a single game since.
“Hey, let’s not get over-confident,” Ronde said, putting up a hand. “There are still a few games left before we can say we’re in the play-offs. And you know if we lose even one of those games, the teams ahead of us have to lose, or else we’re out of it.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Cody said with a smirk. “We’re not losing another game, Barber. With Costa’s leg on our side, we’re golden, right?”
They all laughed. It was funny that the shortest, skinniest, nerdiest kid on the team was actually their most valuable player.
“Say, where is Adam, anyway?” Paco wondered. “He never misses lunch. He eats more than any of us.”
Again, everyone laughed.
“Didn’t he beat you in an eating contest once?” Tiki reminded Paco.
“The kid is a total animal,” Paco said with a mock shiver. “He’s a freak. I can’t believe somebody that thin can pack in so many doughnuts.”
“Was he absent today or something?” Ronde wondered.
“He’d better not be sick,” said Paco. “We need him this week against the Mountaineers.”
“Hey,” said Cody. “He’s playing, okay? As long as his leg’s not broken, who cares if he sneezes all over the locker room?”
“Eeeeuw!” everyone groaned. “Gross!”
“No, man,” said Sam Scarfone. “He’s not sick. I saw him going into the office on my way down here.”
“Oh,” Ronde said. “Well, in that case, maybe he went to see the nurse.”
“Not that office, dude,” Sam said. “The principal’s office.”
There was a sudden silence at the table. Everyone’s eyes went wide. “What’d he do, beat some kid up?” Paco joked.
Everyone laughed nervously. Tiki knew it wouldn’t be so funny if Adam was in real trouble.
But he can’t be! he told himself. Adam never got into trouble. He wasn’t the kind of kid who had behavior problems.
Tiki looked over at Ronde, who looked as queasy as Tiki felt. Something was definitely up with Adam. They’d just have to wait till practice to find out what.
• • •
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Coach Wheeler shouted, clapping his hands and smiling as the team executed yet another play perfectly.
Too bad it isn’t a game, Tiki thought as he took his position behind Cody for the next play. We’ve never played this well before, even in practice!
They were running all their set plays today, with only light contact—no real hitting. Tiki looked around for Adam. He wanted to ask him why his mom had been mad, and why he hadn’t shown up for lunch. But Adam was nowhere to be found.
Tiki figured he must have gotten sick. Adam never missed a football practice otherwise. Tiki sure hoped it was nothing serious. They were going to need him against the Mountaineers on Thursday.
“Ohio State, on four,” Coach Wheeler called the play in, then watched as the Eagles’ offense went through its paces like a finely tuned machine. “You guys come out like this on Thursday, and we’re gonna get ourselves another big win!” he shouted.
Ohio State was a quick screen pass for Tiki. He had been working on his moves for this play because it involved a certain amount of acting. Tiki had to make it seem like he was really blocking the rusher, even though he was letting him get through to Cody on purpose.
Then Tiki had to turn on a dime, just as the pass was being floated toward him. If it worked like it was supposed to, Ohio State was designed to pick up anywhere from five to ten yards. But the way Tiki could dodge and deke in the open field, it might also result in a touchdown.
Tiki ran the play to perfection. Then he turned to make sure that Coach Wheeler had been watching. He was disappointed to see that the coach hadn’t been looking at all! Instead he was deep in conversation with Mrs. Franklin, the assistant principal.
What’s she doing out here? Tiki wondered. If there was a problem with one of Mr. Wheeler’s students, why didn’t she wait and talk to him when he was in the office, or in the teachers’ lounge? Why did she have to interrupt football practice? Didn’t she realize how important it was that the coach concentrate on his team?
Wheeler stood with his arms folded across his chest. He looked very serious, with that eagle’s frown of his. He nodded every now and then as Mrs. Franklin spoke. Then he would look down at the ground, scuffing it with his shoe.
Tiki got a funny feeling in his stomach. What were they talking about? Not him, he hoped!
No, it couldn’t be about him. His grades were good—near the top of his class. And Ronde’s were too.
Still, Mrs. Franklin being there was not a good sign. She was a nice lady, kind of, but she almost always brought bad news.
“Hey, Coach!” Cody yelled, cupping his hands in front of his mouth. “What next?”
Coach Wheeler looked up, startled, like he’d been brought back down to Earth. “Um, Georgia Tech. And look sharp. Let’s go!”
He clapped his hands a couple of times, and the boys lined up to run the play. Tiki glanced back over his shoulder as Cody called for the snap. Coach Wheeler wasn’t even looking. He and Mrs. Franklin were deep in their own little world.
The play went perfectly—every play that day went better than ever before. But as good as that made Tiki feel, it upset him that Coach had missed so much of it.
After practice, when they had showered, gotten back into their street clothes, and were about to leave for home, Coach Wheeler called for their attention. “Listen up, you guys.”
Something about the tone of his voice made everyone stop what they were doing. The room was deathly quiet.
“Some of you may have noticed that Adam Costa wasn’t at practice today,” he said.
A low murmur made its way around the room. A few of the players nodded their heads.
“Mrs. Franklin has informed me that Adam has been placed on academic probation.”
A gasp went up from the players.
“What?” Cody said.
“Academic probation,” the coach repeated. “It’s serious business.”
“Wow,”
Cody said, shaking his head. “That really stinks for him.”
“He’ll have to do some makeup work,” Coach Wheeler continued. “Hopefully he’ll pass next go-round. But here’s the really bad news: Until he passes his makeup tests in both subjects, school rules say he’s barred from all extracurricular activities. In other words, until Costa’s grades improve, no more football.”
CHAPTER THREE
REACHING OUT
* * *
A LOUD MOAN OF PROTEST WENT UP FROM THE players. “Noooooo!” “What?” “No way!”
Mr. Wheeler held up his hands to quiet them, but it took a while for the ruckus to die down.
“I’m sorry, guys,” he said. “I don’t like it any more than you do. But those are the rules, and there’s nothing we can do about it but play our hearts out, try to win on Thursday, and hope that Adam aces his makeup tests and gets back with the team—soon.”
In the quiet locker room the full meaning of what had happened now began to sink in. “Why is Mrs. Franklin doing this to us?” Paco complained. “What did we do wrong?”
“Nothing,” Mr. Wheeler replied. “Nothing at all. Not one little thing. Still . . .”
“How could she do this to us?” Joey protested. “Doesn’t she realize Adam’s been our MVP this season?”
“I don’t know about that,” said Cody, who had always thought of himself as the team’s most valuable player.
Cody was the quarterback, so he had a point, sort of—but even Cody would have had to admit that Adam was the hardest Eagle to replace. After all, there was a backup quarterback—Manny Alvaro—but there was no backup kicker.
On top of that, Adam was both their placekicker and their punter! They depended on his leg for everything from field goals to extra points to kickoffs to punts!
“I can’t believe Mrs. Franklin would sabotage her own school,” said Sam Scarfone, slamming his meaty hand on a locker door.
“Man, is she for real?” Paco said.
“Don’t blame Mrs. Franklin,” Coach Wheeler warned. “She doesn’t like it either. But it’s her job to enforce the school rules.”