Triple Threat (10 page)

“Time out!” JYD yelled as he grabbed the ball.

Slowly we walked over to the fence where Johnnie and Steve were standing.

“Looks like they have it figured out,” Johnnie said.

“I think so. It's going to get tougher from here on in, both on defense and offence.”

“But we only need five more points,” Kia said. “Two more shots—one from the three—and it's game.”

“They're not going to let you get free for those shots. I'm just guessing, but I figure they probably think that if I score on them it's one thing, but if one of you score on them it's just embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” Kia asked.

“Sure. How would you feel if you lost to a couple of five-year-olds?” JYD asked.

“Especially in front of all your friends and a gigantic audience,” Johnnie added.

“I wouldn't like it,” Kia said.

“And you'd probably do anything you could to avoid it. Expect things to get tougher … and rougher.”

“I'm not afraid,” Kia said. “Bring it on.”

“Anybody got any ideas?” JYD asked.

“We have to clear space, and the only way I can see doing that is by setting some picks,” I said. “I'll send the ball in to you and we'll use you as a pick. That should open it up for one of us.”

JYD set himself at the top of the key. Ben was on him, but JYD easily corralled my pass. Kia and I both broke toward him, trying to use JYD to peel off our man. We got there at about the same time, cut on both sides of him and—

“Switch!” Devon yelled, and suddenly Devon was covering Kia and Ethan was glued to my side. We were still covered, just by the other player. It hadn't worked at all.

I broke toward Kia. As she came toward me, I planted. She cut right by my screen and—

“Uggggg!”

I went flying backward as Devon plowed into me, the two of us tangling up as I smashed into the ground, Devon landing heavily on top of me. I struggled to turn around to see the action. Kia was free, driving the net. She put the ball up and the crowd roared as it dropped!

Devon pulled himself to his feet and offered me a hand. “You okay?” he asked.

I held up my arm. The whole elbow was scraped and raw. “Most of me.”

“I could have really hurt you,” Devon said.

I shrugged.

“You got guts, man.”

“Thanks.”

JYD walked over and took my arm, lifting it up to look at it. “Does it hurt much?”

“Not yet. Later … but not as much if we win.”

“When we win,” Kia said, correcting me.

“I like that attitude, girl,” JYD said. “Let's throw them a curve. Change the defense. Let's go man to man.”

“What?” I asked in shock.

“Kia on the inbounds man, Nick on Ben and I'll take who's leftover.”

“You want me to cover Ben?” I asked.

“I don't think he can beat you off the dribble. Keep your feet moving and hands up.”

Ethan had the ball, and as we scrambled to cover our men it was obvious by the look on his face that he was shocked and surprised by our defense.

“Mismatch!” Ben yelled out.

So much for surprise. Ethan threw the ball in to Ben. Devon had faded way off to the side, drawing
JYD with him. I expected either JYD or Kia to double down on Ben, but neither did. They stayed outside with their men, leaving Ben and me, alone, at the top of the key. There was a smile on Ben's face. Obviously I wasn't the only one who'd noticed nobody was coming over to help.

“Keep your feet moving!” JYD called out.

“And remember he can't drive to his left!” Kia yelled. “He's useless to his left!”

Ben's smile was replaced by a scowl. He hadn't appreciated Kia's comments. I didn't appreciate them either. Getting him mad wasn't in my best interests.

Ben started dribbling. I knew this wasn't his strength. He was used having the ball passed to him once he was inside. He shifted over, the crossover partially bouncing off his leg. If I hadn't been playing off, I might have got it … but there was no way I was going outside on him. Even more than not being a good ball handler, he wasn't an outside shooter. His whole game was inside and power. He hadn't attempted an outside shot during the whole time I'd watched him play. And even if he did have a shot, he'd have been nuts to take it. Why risk a lower percentage shot when he could stuff it in the net with a jam?

“Come on, Bennie!” somebody yelled from the sidelines. “Don't be afraid. The kid won't hurt you!”

There was a ripple of laughter from the crowd.

Ben scowled and his eyes almost glowed with anger. He lowered his head and drove the net. I shuffled over, blocking his lane, planting my feet and—he bowled into me, sending me backward into the air and then smashing down against the pavement!

“Charge!” Kia screamed.

The crowd roared, and when I looked over I saw a whole bunch of people put their hand behind their head—the signal for a charge.

“He was still moving!” Ben argued. “It was a block, not a charge!”

Devon walked over and took the ball from Ben's hands. “You're the only one here who saw it that way.”

Devon offered me a hand and pulled me to my feet. My leg was as scraped up as my arm, and there was a tender spot on my side where some pointy part of Ben had slammed into my ribs.

“You okay?” Devon asked.

“If it's our ball, I'm good.”

“Then you're good.” He handed me the ball.

I walked it out to the top of the court. My leg was stinging badly and I was working at not limping.

“I'll put it in play,” I said.

JYD leaned down. “Throw it in for the net,” he whispered. “Give me an alley-oop.”

“I thought you weren't going to score anymore,” Kia said.

“I also thought it would be nice for you to live to see the end of the game. I can't just stand here and watch Nick get banged up. Send me the pass.”

“Sure … if you're open.”

JYD did a double take. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

“It's about respect,” I said.

He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. “You got mine, little brother. You're point guard, you call the play.”

I slapped the ball. “Five!” I yelled.

“Five?” Kia questioned.

“You heard me.”

Five was an isolation play we ran with our team. It meant that Kia had to break through screens to get open for a quick shot. It was meant as a last-second shot—quick inbounds pass for a quick shot.

JYD, of course, had no idea what the play was, but
knew it was something meant for Kia. As she broke around him, JYD lay down a pick that separated her from Ethan. Ben switched off, racing to keep up to Kia. As she reached her spot, I threw in the pass.

Ben was on top of her instantly, making the shot impossible. She dribbled away and I ran, trying to get open. She threw out a pass and I managed to grab the ball. Instantly I fired it out—high and hard—to JYD. He snared the pass and started to dribble.

I knew how easily he could beat his man. We only needed three points. We could just give him the ball and he could drive a couple of times and win the game for us. That would have been so easy … but easy wasn't necessarily right.

I faded off to the side, trying to slip away as everybody watched JYD handle the ball.

“I'm open!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

JYD fired the ball to me and everybody became unfrozen at once. Devon and Ethan rushed toward me to block the shot. I bounced a pass underneath their outstretched arms, the ball hitting Kia in the hands. She was standing at the three-point line. She turned, aimed and the ball went up—a perfect shot for the winner!

I rushed over to Kia, but JYD got there first. He picked her up and tossed her high into the air—so high that she could have slammed … on the way down! The crowd surged forward from all sides and swept me up in a wave of backslaps, handshakes, laughter and cheers. JYD and I exchanged a high five, and then Kia rushed over and threw her arms around me in a big bear hug!

“We did it!” I screamed as she released me.

“Did you have any doubts?”

“Lots and lots,” I admitted.

“Congratulations, Kia. Congratulations, Nick,” JYD said. “You did it.”

“We did it. We wouldn't have had a chance without you.”

“And I wouldn't have had a chance without you two. We did it as a team. Besides, it wasn't just the score that made you two winners. It was the way you played.”

“I think we earned their respect,” I said.

“You earned the respect of everybody, both on and off the court. You showed how to be real winners.”

“They don't look too happy,” I said, gesturing to where Ben, Devon and Ethan were standing, off by the fence, gathering up their things.

“Would you be happy?” Kia asked.

“Probably not.”

“No shame in losing,” JYD said. “You can win with honor and you can lose with honor. Come on, let's go over and tell them ‘Good game'.”

“Good game and goodbye,” Kia said.

“Why goodbye?” JYD asked.

“They have to leave. We won, so they have to go. Whoever won became the kings—and queen—of the court,” Kia said. “When they kicked us off, they said that we could come back when we could beat them and then they'd leave … so they're gone … and I can't say that I'm not happy about it.”

Judging from the expression on JYD's face, he
was
unhappy.

“Isn't that what a bunch of bullies deserve?” Kia asked, reading his expression. “Doesn't it serve them right to get back what they were giving out?”

JYD didn't answer.

“If they had won, they would have been kicking us off,” Kia said.

“Maybe,” JYD said. “Nick, are you feeling good about making them leave?”

“I feel good about winning and the way we won,” I said.

“That wasn't what I was asking.”

“Making them leave is giving them what they gave us, but … but, I don't know.”

“Let's see if I understand. They chase you away because they're bigger and better, and it was wrong. Now, today, we're bigger and better and we're chasing them away, and somehow that's now right?” JYD asked.

“Well … yeah … sort of,” Kia said.

“Now it just seems like we're being the bullies,” JYD said. “How does that feel?”

“Better than being bullied,” Kia said.

“But not much better,” I added.

“Kia?” JYD asked.

“Okay, not much better … but I'm not leaving.”

“Maybe nobody has to leave,” JYD said.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked.

“To get respect you have to give respect. Let's go and talk to them, offer our congratulations to them.”

We walked over. The crowd was thinning out, and a few guys were already tossing up shots at the far end of the court.

“Good game,” JYD said. He shook Ben's hand and then did the same with Ethan and Devon. “You boys can play some ball.”

“I guess not enough,” Ethan said.

“My little brother and sister can play some ball too, don't you think?”

“They can play,” Ben said.

“How old are you two?” Devon asked.

“I'm eleven,” I said. “And Kia will be eleven in September.”

“Unbelievable,” Devon said. “There's no way I was near that good at that age.”

“Probably means they've had some good coaches and teachers,” JYD said. “People who showed them how to play, who helped and supported them. Gave them encouragement.”

“We've had great coaches,” Kia said.

“That makes all the difference,” JYD said. “Older and experienced people to help you to rise up.”

“I got something for you,” Ben said to me. He bent down, reached into his backpack and pulled out a basketball. “Here,” he said.

“A ball … why?”