Wild Card Page 3
“Well, who decides what the school rules are?” Fred Soule asked. “Nobody here ever got to vote on them.”
“Look,” the coach said, “at the end of the day, it’s the principal who makes the rules. That’s the way it is. You all knew the rules about academic probation from day one, and we all have to live by them, Adam included.”
“It still stinks,” Cody said.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “I mean, who takes any of that stuff seriously?”
Coach Wheeler shrugged. “Like it or not, you’d better take it seriously. That’s how it is in any school, guys. Hidden Valley’s no different.”
Ronde liked Dr. Anand, the principal. When she’d picked Coach Wheeler to take over the Eagles after Coach Spangler had left the team, nobody had thought it was a good idea. But it had turned out pretty well so far. In spite of all their troubles, the Eagles still had a shot at making the play-offs.
No, wait—that was when they still had Adam.
Without him, as far as Ronde could see, their chances for a championship were just about zero.
“I don’t understand,” he said aloud. “How could this happen to us?”
“Yeah, just when everything was going perfect,” Bill Reeves added.
“We were headed for the play-offs for sure,” Fred Soule chimed in. “Now? Forget it.”
“Hey, it’s not that bad,” Cody objected. “I mean, I’m still here.”
Ronde shook his head and rolled his eyes. Cody sure did have a high opinion of himself.
“We’re all still here,” Tiki said.
“Yeah, all except our team MVP,” Paco pointed out. “Without him who’s gonna kick all those field goals and extra points? And who’s gonna nail the other team deep in their own end?”
Suddenly it hit Ronde—Paco was right! “Hey, Coach?”
“Yes?”
“Who is going to do the kicking on Thursday?”
Coach Wheeler sighed. “I’m going to try some of you out at tomorrow’s practice. Anyone who thinks he might be good at it, or wants to learn, I’ll be looking for volunteers.”
Ronde blew out a breath. Volunteering to be Adam Costa’s replacement was asking for a world of pressure.
“Meanwhile,” Coach Wheeler said, “let’s try to stay optimistic. After all, we’re on a six-game winning streak, right? If you all do your jobs—and, by the way, that includes keeping your own grades up—we’ll get through this and be fine in the end.”
Ronde took a look around the locker room. In spite of Coach Wheeler’s upbeat words, there was not a one of them who looked the least bit optimistic about things turning out “fine in the end.”
• • •
“Remember when Adam hit that field goal from the twenty-eight-yard line?” Tiki said as they headed for the late bus that would take them home.
“Yeah, man,” Ronde said, smiling in spite of his dark mood. Kicking from the twenty-eight meant it was a twenty-eight-yard field goal—incredibly long for junior high. “And he’s such a skinny kid too. And his punts are even longer. He can kick it almost fifty yards—more, if he gets a good bounce.”
“We’re sunk if he doesn’t come back,” Tiki said.
“Dude, he’s not coming back,” Ronde said. “Not this week, anyway. Remember what Coach said?”
Tiki shook his head. “I don’t care what anybody says. We’ve got to get Adam back, before it’s too late and our season goes down the drain!”
Ronde agreed. They had to do something, all right—but what?
• • •
It was hard to concentrate on homework that night. Ronde kept putting his pencil down and rubbing his eyes. He pressed so hard that he saw colors and lights when he closed them.
But it didn’t help. The same old homework was still staring up at him, waiting to be finished.
Was this how Adam felt all the time? Ronde knew Adam wasn’t the best student, but he’d never actually failed a class before.
Maybe Mrs. Franklin was right. Maybe all the time Adam was spending at football practice was hurting his grades.
He remembered what Tiki had said: We’ve got to get Adam back!
“Maybe we should call Adam,” Ronde suggested.
Tiki looked up from the other side of the kitchen table, where he had his homework spread in front of him. “Good idea,” he said.
Ronde started to get up, but he realized that Tiki wasn’t moving. “You call him, Tiki,” he said, sitting back down.
“Me? Why me? It was your idea!”
“You know you were thinking of it too.”
“So what if I was? You’re the one who said it out loud!”
“What are you, chicken?”
“Me? You’re the one who’s chicken!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
Ronde slammed his hand down on his textbook. “All right, all right!”
But he didn’t get up to make the call. “You know,” he said after a long pause, “Adam might not want to hear from anybody right now. He might not want to talk about it at all.”
Tiki considered this. “Yeah, you know, you may be right. He’s probably so embarrassed about failing his midterms . . .”
“And letting the team down . . .”
“Exactly!”
“Calling him about it might feel like we were rubbing it in.”
“Piling on! You’re right.”
“We’d better wait till he has a chance to get over it.”
“You think?”
“Definitely. Don’t you?”
“I guess,” Tiki said, sighing. “Poor Adam.”
“I know. It really, really stinks,” Ronde agreed.
They both went back to doing their homework. But Ronde felt worse than ever, and he was sure Tiki did too.
All that baloney about Adam feeling embarrassed—he and Tiki both knew it was the two of them who were nervous—about calling. What if they said the wrong thing, and Adam started to cry or something? That would only make a bad situation worse!
“So . . . you’re not gonna call him?” Ronde asked.
“Why are you asking me?” Tiki said. “Didn’t we just agree it would be a bad idea?”
“Well, yeah, but . . .”
Just then they heard the front door open, and their mom came into the house.
“Besides,” Tiki added, “I’ve got a history quiz Thursday.”
“Don’t look at me,” Ronde shot back. “I’ve got an English quiz.”
“So what? You’re good at English!”
“So? You’re good at history!”
“What are you two arguing about now?” Mrs. Barber asked, dropping her purse onto the table right between them.
The purse was almost as big as a suitcase. It was jam-packed full of stuff too. It made a big thump when it hit the table.
“Nothing, Mom,” Ronde said, glaring at Tiki.
“Don’t give me ‘nothing,’ Ronde,” she warned. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Sorry, Mom,” he said. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just . . . too awful to talk about.”
“Really?” she said, taking a seat between them at the table. “In that case you’d better give me the whole story, right now.”
Ronde and Tiki looked at each other, and sank down in their chairs. When their mom laid down the law, they both knew they’d best listen.
“You tell her,” Tiki said.
“Me? You tell her!”
“Now, don’t start in on that again,” said Mrs. Barber.
“Ronde, you start. Then, Tiki, you fill in whatever he left out.”
“Yes, Mom,” said Tiki.
“Yes, Mom,” said Ronde.
When she’d heard the whole story, Mrs. Barber’s brow wrinkled in concern. “That poor boy. Think how awful he must feel. To fail in two subjects, and to be taken off the team, too!”
“I know,” said Tiki. “It’s so unfair!”
“No, it’s not unfair,” said Mrs. Barber. “If the school has a rule, there’s usually a good reason for it.”
“Sure,” Ronde said, sulking. “To punish the whole team.”
“Ronde!”
“It’s true, Mom!” Tiki chimed in. “Just because Adam messed up, why do we all have to suffer? We didn’t do anything wrong.”
“No, you didn’t,” she agreed. “But let me ask you this—do you think a school should allow its students to fail?”
Tiki and Ronde looked at each other glumly.
“Well?”
“No, ma’am,” they both said.
She got up. “I’m glad to see you’re both doing your homework. I know that if either of my boys ever failed a course, I’d want your school to take it seriously.”
“But what about the rest of the team?” Tiki protested.
“Yeah, what about us?” Ronde echoed.
Their mom shrugged. “Maybe instead of moping around you ought to think about what you can do to get Adam back on the team.”
“Huh?”
“Like what?” Tiki asked.
Mrs. Barber smiled and headed for the stairs. “Oh, I don’t know. But you’re smart boys. I know you’ll come up with something. Remember, where there’s a will there’s a way.”
After she left, the boys looked at each other. “Well, I’m stumped,” said Ronde. “You got any bright ideas?”
To Ronde’s surprise Tiki had that look in his eye that said he did have one.
“Ronde, Adam’s failing in math and biology, right?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Well, I’m good at biology. And you got an A in math, didn’t you?”
“A plus. But—”
“Why don’t we call Adam up and offer to help him study for his makeup tests?”
Ronde thought about this for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve never tutored anybody before . . .”
“So what?” Tiki said. “There’s a first time for everything, right?”
“I guess . . . but what if we offer and Adam gets embarrassed about it?”
“Hey, man, let’s not worry about that. He can always say no.”
“Mmmm . . . I don’t know . . .”
“Look, we can just say we called to see how he was doing, and then . . . you know, kind of like we just thought of it right then?”
“Okay,” Ronde finally agreed. He went over to the phone, removed it from the hook, and handed it to Tiki. “Go on. Take it.”
“Why me?” he asked.
“What do you mean, why you? It was your idea!”
“Yeah, but you’re the oldest.”
“By seven minutes!” Ronde shot back.
“Come on, Ronde!”
Ronde held the phone out to Tiki, not budging.
“Okay,” Tiki said, “you dial. I’ll go into the living room and pick up the extension. That way we both make the call, together.”
Ronde frowned, but relented. “Okay. Go on in there, then.”
“Start dialing first.”
“Look, dude, why don’t we wait till tomorrow. Maybe we’ll run into him at school or something. Maybe by then somebody else will—”
“Ronde, we’re Adam’s best friends on the team. If calling is too embarrassing for us, you know nobody else is going to do it.”
“All right, all right.” Ronde punched in the phone number while Tiki went into the living room to listen in on the extension.
“Yes?” Mrs. Costa’s voice sounded pained—or was that just Ronde’s imagination?
“Um, this is Ronde Barber?”
“Yes?”
“Could I . . . Um, could I speak to Adam, please?”
A sigh. “Sure. Just hang on a minute. I have to go get him. He’s in his room.”
Ronde could hear the phone being put down, then silence.
“Man,” Ronde said, “seems like he’s always up in his room.”
“I know,” Tiki replied on the extension. “And his mom is always yelling at him too.”
Ronde let out a chuckle, remembering how Adam liked to do his impression of his parents yelling at him. It had been funny at the time, but now Ronde realized it might not be so funny in real life.
He heard the phone being picked up, dropped to the floor, and then picked up again. “Hello? Sorry. Hello?” came Adam’s voice.
“Hey, dude,” Ronde said. “It’s me.”
“And me too,” Tiki added.
“Hi, guys!” Adam said. “Man, am I ever glad you called.”
“You are?” Ronde said.
“Totally! I thought nobody was ever going to talk to me again, after the way I let the whole team down.”
“Now, don’t say that—,” Ronde began.
“You didn’t let anybody down, except maybe yourself,” Tiki assured him.
“You mean it?”
Well, not really, thought Ronde. He and Tiki had certainly had their moments of blaming Adam. After all, if he’d studied a little harder, maybe none of this would have happened.
Still, he could tell that Adam was hurting, and neither he nor Tiki had the heart to hurt his feelings any further.
“Everybody’s in your corner, dude,” Ronde assured him.
“Definitely,” Tiki agreed. “It’s so unfair, what they’re doing to you!”
“To all of us!” Ronde added.
Ronde could hear a tremble in Adam’s voice when he said, “I’m really sorry, guys. Tell everyone, okay? I didn’t mean to mess up so bad. I don’t know how I failed those tests. I was like, ‘Did we really go over this in class?’ I swear, it was like reading Chinese. I couldn’t even figure out what some of the questions were, let alone the answers!”
“Hey, man,” Tiki said, “don’t worry about letting the team down, okay? We’ll find a way to keep winning somehow. You just work hard, pass those tests, and get back quick.”
“Hey, you know what?” said Ronde, remembering his mom’s words. “Tiki and I sometimes study together. Maybe we could get together and help you study for your makeup exams?”
“Wow, that’s really amazing of you guys to offer,” said Adam, sniffing again. “But it’s okay. They’ve already lined me up with a tutor. Some ninth grader.”
“What’s his name?” Tiki asked. “Anybody we know?”
“It’s not a him; it’s a her. Melody somebody.”
“Melody Burghammer? Isn’t she on the chess team?” Ronde asked.
“And the computer team, and the debating team, and the science olympiad—and she plays piano, too. I figure if she can’t help me, I’m really in trouble.”
That was Adam, thought Ronde. Always with the jokes, no matter how bad the reality was.
“Anyway, I guess I’m set with tutoring, but thanks for the offer anyway.”
“So, when do you think you’ll be back with the team?” Ronde asked. It was the question on everyone’s mind, not just his and Tiki’s.
There was a long pause. “Um . . . I don’t really know,” said Adam. “I’ve got my first tutoring session tomorrow—”
“What about Thursday’s game?” Tiki broke in. “Can you take your makeup tests by then?”
“Dude,” said Adam, “that’s the day after tomorrow.”
“I know, but—”
“Sorry,” said Adam, heaving a huge sigh. “I know I’m not smart.”
“Hey! You’re not stupid,” Ronde told him.
“That’s right. If you study hard, you can get those grades up,” added Tiki.
“Thanks, but there’s no way I’ll be back in time for the Mountaineers game,” Adam said sadly. “Maybe for the week after.”
“MAYBE?”
“Hey, it’s two subjects, not one—and they have to get the teachers to stay after school to proctor me when I take the retests, so it has to be on certain days. Anyway, it’s gonna take me a while to get all those factoids through my thick skull.”
Ronde smiled. It was good to hear that Adam still
had his sense of humor.
“Meanwhile,” said Adam, “who’s gonna be our kicker on Thursday?”
There was a long, long silence.
Who was going to kick for the Eagles on Thursday?
It was the million-dollar question. And so far nobody had any answers.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE SEARCH FOR THE GOLDEN FOOT
* * *
BY THE TIME PRACTICE ROLLED AROUND ON Wednesday, a lot of the team members had run into Adam and gotten the lowdown on his situation. Five minutes into drills, everyone on the Eagles knew how things stood.
They simply had to forget about Adam for now and try to win without him.
It’s possible, Tiki told himself. The Eagles were on a six-game winning streak, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like the Mountaineers were unbeatable. They had a losing record of 3–5, so under normal conditions the 6–2 Eagles would have been favored.
But without a kicker?
When Coach Wheeler blew his whistle at the end of drills, it usually meant it was time to run plays, and then scrimmage. Today was different.
“Boys,” he said, “I’m going to send most of you over to the home end of the field, to work with Coach Ontkos and Coach Pellugi. I’m going to stay at this end, to try to find some potential replacements for Costa. So first of all, raise your hands—is there anybody here who thinks he can kick?”
Tiki looked around. Every single kid’s hand stayed down at his side. Nobody—nobody wanted to try to fill Adam’s golden shoes.
When he thought about it, Tiki wasn’t surprised. Adam was a hard act to follow—and whoever became his replacement would be under a huge magnifying glass.
Sure, if the new kicker came through, he would be a hero to the whole school, let alone the team. But if he failed . . .
Not me, Tiki thought. Somebody else can have that chance, and I wish them all the luck.
At that very moment Coach Wheeler tapped him on the shoulder. “Barber,” he said, “I want you to try out.”
“Me?”
“Sure, why not. Just give it a try, okay?”
Tiki hesitated. “Uh . . .”
“Don’t worry. You can still start at running back.”
“Yeah, but—” Tiki knew he had to think fast if he wanted to get out of this. “How about Ronde?”