Fast Break by Mike Lupica

his right. On
SportsCenter
one time, he’d seen a celebrity trying to throw out the first pitch at a Braves game. The guy was a lefty. But the ball ended up closer to first base than home plate, like he was trying to pick off an imaginary runner.
    Zoe stopped. So did the girls with her, all of whom Jayson recognized from lunch the day before. The other girls laughed at his clumsiness, but Zoe didn’t. She just stared at the ball rolling away from them across the grass, eyes wide.
    She turned back to Jayson.
    â€œAnd you’re a basketball player?” she said, giving him that smile again. Jayson saw how great it was, even from a distance.
    â€œIt slipped,” he said.
    Then he jogged after the ball in his new sneakers; he’d been wearing them to break them in a little before practice.Brought the ball back to her. Happy he’d been able to say something to her this time.
    â€œThese are my friends,” she said. “Lizzie. Alex. Ella. Guys, this is Jayson. I’ve heard he’s a really good basketball player. Apparently we’ll have to take that on faith.” That smile again, lighting up her face.
    â€œI’m just not used to the ball,” he said. “Not a soccer guy. But my friends who played, back at my other school, said I’d be good at it.”
    â€œOh really?” Zoe said. “Because you’re fast?”
    â€œI’m just telling you what they said.”
    â€œWell, it takes more than being fast to be a good soccer player,” Zoe said.
    Ella, taller than the rest, said, “A
lot
more. You’ve got to have moves. And know what to do with the ball on offense and how to take it away on defense.”
    â€œSounds like basketball,” Jayson said.
    â€œJust without using your hands,” Ella said.
    â€œI always thought that was kind of weird,” he said, turning to look at Zoe. “A sport that doesn’t let you use your hands.”
    Zoe raised an eyebrow. “You mean the way you just used your hands so brilliantly?”
    â€œI told you, it slipped.” He took the ball back from her. “Watch this.”
    He put the ball on the tip of his right index finger and tried to spin it the way he would a basketball.
    Not even close.
    The ball just fell off his finger and dropped to the ground like he’d blocked his own shot.
    So much for showing off,
Jayson thought.
    Zoe turned to the other girls. “Maybe that’s his hidden talent,” she said. “He’s got hands that act like feet!”
    They all laughed again. As embarrassed as he was, Jayson almost laughed with them. But he stopped himself. Maybe it was pride. The guy who hated to lose more than anything was losing big-time with this girl.
    Just like he had at lunch on the first day.
    â€œStupid ball, stupid sport,” Jayson said.
    â€œSo now soccer’s not just weird,” she said. “It’s stupid.”
    â€œI just like
real
sports,” Jayson said. “You know, the kind where people actually score more than one or two times a game.”
    â€œYou think you could score on me?” Zoe said, smiling again, but issuing a challenge, they both knew it. Doing it right in front of her friends.
    â€œYou can’t play one-on-one in soccer,” he said.
    â€œOh yes you can,” she said. “Even a soccer hater like you must know about penalty kicks.”
    â€œI didn’t say I was a soccer hater,” he said.
    â€œSaying soccer isn’t a
real
sport pretty much means you don’t respect the game. So why don’t you teach us all how easy it is to score?”
    He could feel his heart pounding now, being carried alongby this. Not just the challenge, but the fact that this was probably the longest conversation with a girl he’d ever had in his life.
    â€œOkay,” he said. “You win. I’ll take you on sometime.”
    â€œNot
some
time. Right now.”
    â€œI gotta get to