Rivals by Tommy Greenwald (top 100 novels of all time .txt) 📕

being nice, but I accept his compliment with a nod.

Carter gestures over to Coach Cash. “Hey, what’s the deal? You know this dude or something?”

“Yeah. He’s actually my private coach.”

Carter whistles. “Dang. What’s that like?”

“Intense.”

“In a good way?”

“Sometimes.”

“Well, you must love the game, huh?”

“Sometimes.”

He laughs and fills his water bottle. “Hey, how’s your teammate doing? The one that got hurt?”

“He’s pissed off.”

“At you?”

“At everything.”

We both silently decide that’s enough on that topic. “Listen, man,” Carter says, “I heard the guys out there, ribbing you because of the coach. Don’t let them get to you. Just keep playing ball, you’ll be fine.”

“I appreciate that, thanks.”

“All good.”

We stand there for a few seconds, and it occurs to me that I could actually be friends with this guy in another life.

He picks up his gym bag and slings it over his shoulder. “Anyway, I gotta go grab the bus, see you next time. Keep up the good work.”

I’m wondering what it would be like to take a bus home when my dad walks up to me. “That was Carter Haswell, right? That kid is something. Gotta figure out a way to keep him on the team.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the program costs fifteen hundred bucks a season, and I’m pretty sure his family doesn’t have two nickels to rub together. Coach Cash already got a call from his mom about it, and we’re talking about putting together some sort of scholarship for him.”

“Wait, why are you involved with that?”

“Because I’m one of the sponsors of the team,” my dad says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, right.” Of course.

My dad puts his sunglasses on and chuckles. “Carter smoked you out there a few times, huh? Well, now you know what it’s like playing with the big boys.”

I answer him by pulling out my phone and putting my ear pods in. On the ride home, I think about asking my dad to stop for ice cream, but I don’t.

WALTHORNENEWS.COM

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 22 11:18 AM

Star Walthorne Athlete Withdraws from School

In a week that’s already seen its share of local off-the-field sports news, another bombshell dropped last night as it was revealed that Sophia Vargelle, a student at Walthorne North Middle School and a star guard on the school’s basketball team, has withdrawn from school. Ms. Vargelle’s family was found to have moved out of the Walthorne School District sometime last year, but the student-athlete remained enrolled at the school without special dispensation, which is in violation of state law. Sources have confirmed that Walthorne North will be forced to forfeit all games played by last season’s team, which had a record of 15 wins and 5 losses and finished third in the league.

ALFIE

I don’t know who Sophia Vargelle is. So obviously, I had no idea what she had or hadn’t done until that random person called into my radio show.

But none of that matters when Janeece and Callie spot me in the lunch line.

“Hey! Alfie!”

I turn and see them walking toward me with big smiles on their faces.

“Dude!” Callie says. “Well done!”

“What do you mean?”

She smacks me on the shoulder playfully, but it hurts. “Come on! I heard what happened. Some, like, anonymous caller called in to your show and told you about that girl Sophia on Walthorne North. Then she withdraws from school! And she’s, like, one of their best players! I mean come on, how awesome is that?”

“Pretty awesome, I guess,” I say, just to say something.

Callie winks. “You really are some kind of investigative reporter, huh? First the kid who told the other kid to play hurt, and now this? I love it. I LOVE IT! You’re taking North apart, like, one by one!”

“I actually got the Clay Elkind story wrong,” I tell Callie, “and this time all I did was answer the phone.”

Janeece gives me the side-eye. “What, you feel bad for that Sophia girl, because she’s white, like you?”

“Of course not!” I say, shocked.

Janeece giggles. “I’m just messing with you.”

“She did a bad thing, for sure,” I say. “But it wasn’t all her fault. I’m pretty sure her parents or coach came up with the idea.”

“Doesn’t matter to me, to be honest,” Janeece says, shrugging. “We’re gonna whup North with or without that girl. But I don’t mind seeing them knocked down. They think that just because they’ve all got money that they can break the rules. Well, they can’t.”

“You know it,” Callie agrees.

We get our food, and Callie bumps my tray with hers. “Come on, let’s sit! We can talk about other ways to get those guys in trouble!”

I’d rather eat by myself and study for the math test, to be honest, but I’m not about to tell them that.

“Sure thing,” I say.

CARTER

As I walk into the cafeteria for lunch, Eddy intercepts me right away.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask him. “Everything good?”

Eddy jerks his head behind him. “Coach Benny has lunch monitor duty, and he’s looking for you. He doesn’t look happy.”

“Oh, great.”

I keep my head down, hoping it will make me invisible, but just before we sit down, I feel a big hand—more like a paw, really—clamp down on my shoulder.

I turn to face him. “Coach Benny! What’s up?”

“Hello, Mr. Haswell. Do you mind telling me what is going on with you and math?” He always likes to get straight to the point.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Principal Marshak came to see me this morning. Apparently she has been advised by your math instructor that you’re in danger of failing math. And if you fail math, you will automatically be disqualified from participating in extracurricular activities.”

We both know what that means. The only extracurricular activity I participate in is basketball.

“I understand, Coach,” I say.

“Do you?” He leans into me. “I thought we talked about this. Didn’t I get through to you? Nothing is more important than your schoolwork! And if you fail math, it will mean more than just missing the