Athlete vs. Mathlete: Double Dribble (20 page)

“Uh, this was just going to be a one-on-one thing,” I reminded Mitch. The last thing I needed was the two of them ganging up on me.

“I know,” Marcus said. “I'm here for the meeting.”

“What meeting?” I asked.

“Masters of the Mind,” Russ said, from behind me. “Marcus is thinking about joining.”

“Masters of the Mind?” I asked.

“Try to keep up,” Mitch said, smiling.

We left the two of them at my house as Mitch and I walked to the park. Neither of us spoke as we each dribbled a ball.

When we got there, I was relieved to see that the court was empty.

“So, what's the deal?” I asked. “Why do you freeze up when your brother's not around?”

“He's the only guy I've ever played with.”

That didn't even make sense. “But you were on other teams, with other people.”

“Sure, but we did our own thing. At practices, at home, and at games.”

I thought about all the times I'd seen Mitch and Marcus off to the side at practice or hanging out together in the hallways. I thought about how they always seemed to be on their own.

“Just like you've done here,” I said.

“Yeah. We don't need anyone else.”

I laughed. “You totally do.”

“No, we don't.”

“You do right now,” I reminded him. “As long as he's out with that arm, you need the rest of us.”

He was quiet for a minute. “I know you're right,” he finally said, “but Marcus is the only person I trust.”

“Then you're going to have to learn to trust me,” I told him.

He looked me right in the eye. “And you're going to have to earn it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You're the only guy on this team who wants me to fail.”

How did he know that?

“And that's why I'm spending my Saturday trying to help you, right?”

“Okay, up until
yesterday
you wanted me to fail. Ever since Marcus and I got here, everyone else has been fine, but you've been acting like you don't want us on the team.”

“Well … yeah.” I thought for a second. “But I don't feel that way anymore.”

“And I'm supposed to believe that?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I want to
win
, okay?”

We stared at each other while crows cawed in the trees all around us.

“How about this?” Mitch suggested. “I'll admit that I need you and the rest of the Pioneers if you admit that you need me.”

The final score from our last game flashed in my head and my answer was painful but obvious.

“I need you,” I told him. “The Pioneers need you.”

“And I need you, too,” he said, then bounced his ball a couple of times. “Now let's do this.”

So we did.

For the next two hours, I ran the same kind of drills with Mitch that I had with Russ.

The biggest change he had to make was with communication. He was so used to automatically knowing where Marcus would be and vice versa, he didn't think to shout that he was open or listen for anyone else to say that they were.

“You don't hear the guys on the court?” I asked.

“Nah, I just tune it out.”

Just then, some high-school kids showed up. I wasn't sure if they'd boot us off the court, but they invited us to play instead.

“Sure,” I said, “as long as me and him are on the same team.”

From the second we started playing, I knew that the work we'd done all morning had been totally worth it.

Mitch and I were like … well, like our own kind of Twinvaders. We passed, blocked, and made shots together. The more we played, the more comfortable we got with each other. He started calling plays and I started guessing what moves he would make.

By the time the game was over, I felt like we'd been teammates for at least a couple of seasons.

And I never thought I'd ever say this, but that was … pretty awesome.

My Masters team was headed to Regionals in just one week, with a brand-new member. He took some convincing, but once Marcus chose to join us, he put his whole heart into the team.

Everybody loved him and the great ideas he brought to the table.

“Now that we're a team of five, I know that we are going to thrive,” Nitu said at our last meeting after a particularly good brainstorming session.

“Regionals are coming soon,” I said. “We win there and I'm over the moon.”

“Nice one,” Sara said.

The room was quiet for a few seconds, then Marcus gave us a shy smile.

“What have you got?” Jason asked.

Marcus cleared his throat. “Our chance at Regionals is great, and then we're on the road to State.” He paused. “I know we deal in rationals, but why not dream of Nationals?”

I grinned.

The kid was a natural.

And I loved it.

Marcus brought great ideas to the Masters team, but he had more than a few for the Pioneers, too.

When Coach Baxter took a look at his notes, he saw that Marcus had a keen eye for Mitch's strengths and weaknesses. So he asked him to watch the rest of us as well, to help pinpoint areas where
we
could use some help.

As a result, I think every single player on the team improved.

Even Owen.

We were down to the last few seconds of a game against Riverbend.

The score was tied and Nate had the ball.

He dribbled around a guard who'd had a hard time keeping up with him for the whole game. Then he passed to Owen.

My brother raced down the court, and I was sure he would go for the shot. After all, there wasn't much time left and he was in perfect position to score.

Then one of the guards made a move and almost stole the ball.

Owen remained calm, amazingly enough. He checked over his shoulder—there was nothing but Riverbend players in his sights.

“I'm open!” Mitch shouted.

Owen hesitated for a split second. It was the kind of thing only someone really close to him (like me) would notice. He took a deep breath like he'd made a tough decision.

I hoped he was about to do the right thing for the team. And he did.

One quick bounce pass and the ball was in Mitch's hands.

A second later, it was back in the air and zooming for the basket.

We all froze in place as it rolled around the rim once, twice …

“Come on,” Chris whispered, from next to me.

I crossed my fingers and held my breath.

After a final trip around the rim, the ball dropped through the net with the most satisfying
swish
I'd ever heard.

The Pioneers won!

Owen pumped his fist in the air and shouted, “Yes!”

I waited for him to high-five Mitch. Instead, the two of them nodded to each other and smiled.

And that was good enough.

As always, tremendous thanks to my agent, Sally Harding of the Cooke Agency, who has put up with my pesky e-mails for over ten years. And to my editor, Brett Wright at Bloomsbury, for his thoughtful direction and boundless enthusiasm.

Athlete vs. Mathlete

Copyright © 2013 by Wendy C. Smith

All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages

First published in the United States of America in November 2013
by Bloomsbury Children's Books
www.bloomsbury.com

This electronic edition published in November 2013

For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to
Permissions, Bloomsbury Children's Books, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Mack, W. C.
Athlete vs. mathlete: double dribble / by W. C. Mack. — First U.S. edition.
pages    cm
Summary: Fraternal twins Russ and Owen's domination of the seventh-grade basketball team falters when Mitch and Marcus Matthews, identical twins, arrive and prove their skill on the court and in the classroom.
[1. Twins—Fiction. 2. Brothers—Fiction. 3. Basketball—Fiction. 4. Competition (Psychology)—Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction.] I. Title. II. Title: Athlete versus mathlete, double dribble. III. Title: Double dribble.
PZ7.M18996Atf 2013    [Fic]—dc23    2013004314

eISBN: 978-1-6196-3150-2

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