ran his finger down the page. âForty-two percent less wind resistance.â He looked up at us. âThirty-eight percent less gravity.â
âLess gravity?â Eddie whispered. âYou canât get less gravity. Unless you go to the moon.â
Russell shook his head. âI think thatâs where Coach is.â
âAnd tough.â Coach punched himself in the chest. âLike wearing full-body armor.â He slapped the document shut and looked at us for a long moment. âThis technology is powerful, gentlemen. In the wrong hands, frankly, it could be dangerous. Which is why the Defense Department included a built-in fail-safe. If I couldnât handle this technology, you wouldnât be able to see this.â
He held out his arms and turned slowly, so we could get a good look. Turns out his back was as hairy as his front. Information I truly didnât need.
âBecause for those who arenât winners, for those who donât have what it takes to control the technology, the uniforms areââCoach stopped turning and squinted from player to playerââinvisible.â
We stood there, mouths open.
âDid he say what I think he said?â Bragger hissed.
Eddie nodded. âHe must be using a Stealth Brain.â
Coach paced over to the stack of boxes. âStealth technology enhances all your physical skills. Helps you run faster. Jump higher. Play longer.â He thumped the top box. âStealth technology is going to help us beat Whipple.â He held the box out to Duncan, who had no choice but to take it. âThese are Stealth Uniforms, gentlemen.â He handed a box to Manning. âIt takes time to get used to the new speed and agility, to get the uniforms functioning fully with your bodyâs natural current, so starting today, weâll wear them at every practice.â
We froze. Every. Practice.
As Coach passed out the boxes, he grunted a few things about the science behind the uniforms. When he reached the bottom of the stack, he gave us a long, hard look. âRemember.â He narrowed his eyes. A vein pulsed in the purple bruise. âOnly true winners have what it takes to control Stealth power. So if you got a problem with your uniform, if you canât handle it, you got no business on my team. Do I make myself clear?â
We stood there, all twelve of us, holding our suspiciously lightweight boxes, and nodded like bobbleheads.
âAnother thing.â Coach planted his fists on his hips. âThese uniforms are our secret weapon. We donât want Whipple finding out about them. Which is why the windows are taped over. What we do in the gym, stays in the gym. Our plays, drills, lineups, uniformsâall strictly classified information. Got it?â
The bobbleheads bobbled.
âGood. Now suit up. Letâs see how they fit.â
Seventeen
Well, they fit like skin, just like Coach promised.
We milled around the locker room in our underwear, shaking our heads, empty boxes scattered on the floor around us. Of course, theyâd been empty before we ever opened them.
I stared at the boxes. I couldnât believe it. Iâd spent all this time doing everything I could to get the team to Lawrence, and the whole world, including my coach, was working against me. Every time I got it figured out, every time I came up with a new strategy, something worse happened. All weekend, while I worked out Step Five, I kept telling myself that if we could get past thisâpast the school board, past a losing season, past the KU scrimmageâwe were home free. Because nothing could be worse than me playing basketball in front of my father.
Ha.
I felt like hitting something. Of course, last time I felt that way, Iâd ended up smacking Coach into a stupor with a basketball.
âI donât get it.â Duncan sat huddled at the end of a bench, clutching a red box lid over his bare belly, trying his best not to