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  He stuck out his hand, and Tiki shook it so hard Wheeler had to laugh. “So, are we good to go now?”

  “Good to go?” Tiki said. “I’m totally psyched!”

  • • •

  Tiki was glad they were all the way across town for this game against the Badgers of William Byrd Junior High. The pressure was always a lot higher when your mom and your friends and everyone you knew was sitting there watching.

  Today would be tough enough without that added pressure. Just knowing that if they lost they were mathematically eliminated was enough to make every member of the team—especially Tiki—as jumpy as a high voltage cable.

  This might be our last meaningful game this season, Tiki thought. And if they lost, it would be William Byrd, of all teams, that had ruined their season—starting with that horrible one-point loss at home in their very first game, when they’d had no real coach and it had been every man for himself.

  The Badgers had a losing record—2–8—but one of those two victories had been that early shocker against the Eagles. If they beat us again, thought Tiki, it’ll be really tough to take.

  Well, at least he could forget about trying to score points with his foot. It was a relief that Coach Wheeler had agreed to stay away from field goals and extra-point kicks. On punts and kickoffs all Tiki had to do was kick it as far as he could. He could forget all about accuracy.

  Tiki felt good about that. It meant he could concentrate on scoring points the way he was supposed to—with his running game.

  And maybe, just maybe, he’d even get to repeat his patented fake punt.

  • • •

  The first time the Eagles had the ball, Coach Wheeler kept things simple. He had Cody hand Tiki the ball on first down, and bam! Tiki did the rest. He went for a gain of twelve, and two plays later he ran for another nineteen!

  After a couple of dropped passes by the receivers, Tiki got the ball again—and this time he sprinted right through a huge Paco-shaped hole in the line for a gain of twenty-three, all the way to the Badgers’ twenty yard line!

  Two more incompletions later it was obvious that Cody was having a tough time passing. It was a cold day—the first really cold day of the season—and the Eagles’ QB seemed to be having trouble gripping the ball.

  The next play was a draw play featuring John Berra, who bulled his way for eight yards.

  Now it was fourth down and two to go from the twelve. A perfect field goal situation. Except, of course, that the Eagles were not doing that today. Instead they went for the first down. Tiki took a handoff around the end, cut the corner with amazing speed, and raced down the sideline into the end zone!

  The two-point conversion was another pass to Joey Gallagher that fell short. But that was okay, Tiki told himself. They were still up by six, and they’d started the game off on the right foot.

  Three minutes later that lead was gone, as the Badgers came out firing bullets after Tiki’s short kick. Their quarterback, unlike Cody, seemed not to be having any problem at all with the cold weather.

  So the Eagles started their next drive behind by a point, 7–6. Tiki knew he wasn’t the only one on the Eagles who was on the verge of panic.

  On this drive the Badgers were looking for him. Word had obviously spread around the league that Tiki Barber was somebody you needed to double-team.

  But that didn’t stop Tiki. In his mind he was running for his life. No matter what happened, or how many players covered him, they weren’t going to take him down.

  Taking Cody’s handoff, he followed Paco through the hole and into the backfield, bouncing off would-be tacklers one after the other. He was finally pushed out of bounds at the Badgers’ forty-six, after a gain of thirty-five brutal yards.

  After a short breather on the sidelines Tiki came back into the game. This time Cody found him on a quick dump pass, and Tiki took it from there. Jigging and jagging, zigging and zagging, he even jumped over a fallen player or two, and finally danced into the end zone, letting out a roar of triumph!

  Inspired, the Eagles converted the two extra points, and took a 14–7 lead.

  Tiki boomed his next kickoff—the farthest he’d kicked a ball yet—but it didn’t have much height, and the returner had time to get behind his blocking and run it back all the way to the Eagles’ twenty-five!

  The defense held strong, thank goodness. But the Badgers did manage to notch a field goal, tightening the score to 14–10.

  “Hey!” Ronde shouted at Tiki, who was moping on the bench. “Forget it, man! Just get us another touchdown!”

  Tiki nodded, forcing himself to concentrate and not feel sorry for himself—at least not while the game was on.

  During the next offensive series he took a screen pass from Cody on second down and ran it for a big gainer to the forty-five yard line. Then, on first down, he zipped through the line again for a quick twenty yard gain.

  “Miami, baby!” Cody told the huddled team. A flea-flicker, called by Coach Wheeler.

  Tiki took the handoff, then lateraled back to Cody, who hurled it over the defenders’ heads to Fred Soule in the back of the end zone!

  On the two-point conversion, Cody bootlegged and ran it in himself, behind a block from Tiki that put the defender flat on his behind.

  “Nice blocking, little dude!” Cody said, slapping Tiki on the helmet.

  Tiki usually hated it when people called attention to his size. He and Ronde were getting bigger every month, but they were still two of the shortest, skinniest kids on the team.

  But right then, he was so glad to be winning—and not kicking—that he laughed along with Cody as they headed into the locker room for halftime.

  The second half was a defensive battle, and several times it looked like the Badgers might break through for a touchdown that would make the game dangerously close.

  But the Eagles’ defense made a heroic goal line stand on one drive, and on the other, Ronde made an incredible interception to prevent a sure touchdown.

  The Badgers’ field goal that followed made it 22–13, Eagles, and another one in the fourth quarter brought the Badgers to within a touchdown at 22–16.

  There were still five minutes left to play in the game when the Eagles got the ball back at their own thirty yard line. The Badgers might have been out of the play-offs themselves, but they sure were “playing proud,” Tiki thought.

  They were keying on him ferociously now, and the Eagles had to go to John Berra to try to eat up the clock. But he didn’t get very far, and when the two-minute warning sounded, it was fourth down and seven, with the Eagles stalled at the Badgers’ forty-three.

  Tiki got ready to punt. Then, looking over at the sideline, he saw Coach Wheeler flashing him the high sign.

  Yesss! A fake punt! He’d almost forgotten about their secret agreement!

  Tiki lined up as if to kick. He took the snap. He faked kicking—then took off almost straight ahead, zipping right past the onrushing Badgers and into the open field!

  Tiki pumped his legs relentlessly forward. He was hit full force by a flying Badgers safety, but somehow he managed to hold on to the ball as he fell to the turf.

  Cody grabbed his hand and yanked him up. “Dude, you okay?” The smile on his face told Tiki everything he needed to know. They’d gotten the first down they needed—the ball was still in their possession!

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  “Their sixteen!” Cody told him. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Just give me the ball again, man,” Tiki said, shaking the cobwebs out of his head.

  Cody did, and Tiki put a spin move on the first Badger to come at him. He took a stagger step to avoid the second. Then he got behind a block from John Berra and took off for pay dirt.

  When he crossed the goal line, he spiked the ball, fell to his knees, and let the tears flow. All the way back to the sidelines, his teammates mobbed him, hugging him and smacking him on the back and the helmet.

  After another successful two-point conv
ersion and, finally, a meaningless last-second touchdown and two-point conversion for the Badgers, the final score was 30–24, Eagles.

  They were now 8–3 with one game left to go in the season. At least they hadn’t knocked themselves out of play-off contention, Tiki thought with a sigh of relief.

  But not total relief—not by a long shot.

  If the teams ahead of them won their games today, the Eagles’ season would be over in spite of their victory.

  Well, thought Tiki, I guess all we can do now is wait.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE SLIM THREAD OF HOPE

  * * *

  THE BOYS WERE EATING THE DINNER THEIR MOM had prepared for them—stuffed shells and salad, with cupcakes for dessert.

  The note she’d left said, I know you boys made me proud today, even though I couldn’t be there. And when you play proud and live proud, win or lose, good things are bound to happen.

  Ronde and Tiki both knew what she meant. It wasn’t the kind of proud where you strut around bragging about yourself. Living proud meant acting in a way that made you proud of yourself. It meant doing the right thing, even when no one was looking.

  The phone rang, bringing Ronde’s thoughts back to the moment. “You answer it,” he said, his mouth full of food. “I’m still eating.”

  Tiki’s eyes went wide. “And what am I doing? Sitting here watching you eat? I’m not your secretary.”

  “How do you know it’s for me? It’s probably for mom, or else it’s one of those sales calls.”

  All this time, while they were arguing, the phone kept on ringing.

  Tiki finally pushed his plate away and went to answer it. “You owe me for this,” he told Ronde. “Hello?”

  The voice on the other end was Paco’s, Ronde could tell. He was yelling that loud.

  “Whoa, dude, hold up! Slow down so I can understand you!” Tiki said. As he listened, his eyes went wide, and a big grin spread across his face. “Yeah, man! Oh, baby, yeah!”

  “What? What!”

  Tiki waved Ronde off. “Dude, we’ll be right over.” He hung up and clapped his hands. “Come on, Ronde. We’re going over to Paco’s to celebrate.”

  “What happened?” Ronde asked.

  “The Colts and the Bears lost!”

  “Both of them?”

  “Yup—and to really weak teams too! Ronde, man, we’re still alive! Can you believe it? We’re still breathing!”

  “Woo-hoo!”

  • • •

  At Paco’s they got all the details. “My friend Stewie Brewer was over there at the Bears game? His cousin goes there or something. So he calls me after, ’cause he knows I’m dying over here, and he says the Bears got wiped out by the Mountaineers, twenty to zero, or something like that!”

  “And how’d you hear about the Colts game?” Ronde wondered.

  “My cousin works for the Roanoke Reporter in their mail room. So I called him and he found out for me. Close game. Twenty-four to seventeen, Panthers.”

  “Wow,” Ronde said, shaking his head. “Did we get lucky today or what?”

  “Imagine both those games ending in upsets,” Tiki said. “But, man, am I glad they did!”

  “Well, don’t get too excited,” Ronde warned. “Lightning has to strike again next week. And, by the way, we also have to win.”

  “Hey,” Ronde said. “You know what? I just thought of something. If we win next week and the Colts and the Bears lose, we’re all tied in the standings, right?”

  “Yeah . . . so?”

  “Well, the tiebreaker is the teams’ record against each other—and we beat the Colts twice and split two with the Bears. But we outscored them, and that’s the tiebreaker. If we win and either of them loses, we’re in!”

  “Hey, he’s right!” Paco said brightly. Then his expression darkened. “But you left out one thing. We’re playing the Rockets. They’re nine–two so far.”

  “Hey, Paco,” Ronde said, “just remember, one of those losses was against us.”

  Paco tilted his head to the side. “I don’t know, guys,” he said. “We had Adam in that game, remember. He made a big difference, and we won by three points.”

  He blew out a breath, and looked up at the twins. “So . . . are we going to have him back for this game, or what?”

  “He takes his math makeup test tomorrow,” Ronde said. “If he passes, he can take the biology makeup next Wednesday. And if he passes that one too, he can play on Thursday.”

  “Whoa,” Paco said nervously. “I sure hope you guys are getting through to him.”

  “Keep your fingers crossed,” Tiki told him.

  “Hey, Paco,” Ronde said, “look at the bright side. There’s only one team we have to catch now.”

  “Yeah, but the Colts are playing the Panthers, the Bears are up against the Mountaineers, and we’re playing the Rockets. That’s not a good situation. You two guys had better get Adam in shape, or I don’t like our odds.”

  • • •

  The next day at practice everyone was nervous. They all knew that Adam was inside, taking his math makeup test.

  Ronde kept sneaking looks at the doorway. He knew that when the test was done, Adam would come through those doors. And in an instant, by the look on his face, the whole team would know their fate.

  “Hey, Ronde, wake up!”

  Ronde snapped back to attention at the sound of Coach Wheeler’s voice. It was hard to concentrate, he had to admit. And yet he had to. The upcoming game was the most important one of their entire season. If they won, they at least had a fighting chance. If they lost, it was all over, no matter what the other teams did.

  Still, every one of the Eagles knew that their chances against a good team like the North Side Rockets were much better with a great kicker on their side.

  And a great kicker, Tiki was not.

  The practice was tense, and the players were making way more mistakes than usual. Everyone, it seemed, was having a hard time concentrating. Their minds were all on Adam, and their eyes were all sneaking constant looks at those doors.

  Ronde thought back to that last tutoring session he’d had with Adam. He sure hoped Adam had absorbed the football comparison. If he failed his makeup test, not only would it be devastating for the Eagles, but it would be personally embarrassing for Ronde.

  Finally, after what seemed like hours, the fateful doors swung open. There stood Adam Costa, a blank expression on his face. He looked them over—all his fifty-seven teammates—and then he smiled and flashed the team a big thumbs-up!

  A cheer went up from every corner of the football field. Adam had not only passed his math test, but he’d gotten a B!

  Hope was still alive!

  CHAPTER TEN

  LIFE LESSON

  * * *

  TIKI SAT AT THE TABLE, HIS CHIN IN HIS HANDS, staring glumly across at Adam. He wished he could be at practice right now, busting a run or catching a screen pass.

  But no—he had to spend the entire afternoon helping someone else do his homework—and then spend the entire evening doing his own!

  He felt sorry for Adam, sure. Who wouldn’t? Tiki stared across at his old friend as he scratched his head, squinted his eyes, and pressed so hard on his pencil that he broke the tip for the hundredth time in the past hour.

  “I just can’t get this stuff through my thick skull!” Adam complained, banging his head with his fist for emphasis. “I am so dumb!”

  “Cut it out, will you?” Tiki begged, rolling his eyes. “We both know you’re not dumb. Remember back in seventh grade chemistry, when you memorized all the elements?”

  “That was different,” Adam explained. “I just learned the lyrics to this old song my dad turned me on to, ‘The Elements.’ All I had to do was say the words out loud and leave out the tune.”

  Tiki shook his head and laughed. “Well, if you could do that, why can’t you do this?”

  “There’s no song that lists the parts of a cell.”

  “So? Mak
e one up!”

  “You think I can just make up a tune in my head?”

  Hmm. Maybe not, thought Tiki. He’d have to find another way to get Adam over his mental block.

  But it was hard to think of good ideas when all he could keep his mind on was football practice, where all the rest of their teammates were getting ready for the huge game on Thursday night.

  What if all this time he was spending with Adam turned out to be wasted? What if Adam failed his makeup test on Wednesday and Tiki had to be the kicker in that critical, final game of the season?

  He’d gotten by against the lowly Panthers, but the Rockets were a different story. They were already headed for the play-offs.

  That was the Eagles’ best hope—that the game wasn’t really important to North Side. But Tiki knew that if it was him, being in the play-offs wouldn’t matter. He always wanted to crush every opponent—and he was pretty sure the Rockets felt the same way.

  “Hey, are you paying attention?” Adam said.

  Tiki snapped out of his reverie. “Uh, sure I am.”

  “Yeah? What’d I just say?”

  “Uh . . . Okay, okay, I was daydreaming. Sorry.”

  “We don’t have much time, Tiki. I need you to focus!”

  “You need me to focus?”

  “Yes! Come on, man. I’ve got to get myself back on the team, and fast!”

  Adam was right. Tiki was angry at himself now. He should have realized no one felt worse about the Eagles’ troubles than Adam, who was most responsible for them.

  “Okay, okay, I’m focusing,” he said. “Let’s get back to work.”

  • • •

  That night he and Ronde lay in their beds in the dark. Tiki couldn’t sleep. He kept staring at the ceiling, where he could see the shadows of leaves cast by the moonlight. They danced back and forth, keeping him awake, the thoughts dancing in his head to the same beat.

  “Ronde? You awake?”

  “Uh-huh,” came the answer.

  “I can’t sleep.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Adam’s gonna fail this biology makeup test.”