Nothin But Net by Matt Christopher

and by 3:30, the gym was already filling up with spectators. “We’re up by two points,” Tim heard Brian Kelly tell Mike
     Gruber as the two of them sat on the Eagles bench. Brian was suited up, but Mike was in jeans and a T-shirt. His eyes, shooting
     daggers of hatred, followed Tim wherever he went. It was almost more than Tim could stand.
    He wanted to go over and speak to Mike, to tell him he was sorry, that he hadn’t meant to break his finger. But he knew Mike
     wouldn’t believe him — not after the warm-water stunt and all that business with Stephanie Krause.
    They were only up by two points. The basketball game was worth five. This was it, and everybody knew it. Lose, and they’d
     set a record for failure that would probably live in infamy forever in Camp Wickasaukee lore. Win, and he could start to turn
     the page on all the bad stuff that had happened so far this summer.
    Billy was now on the Eagles basketball team as an emergency replacement. Tim had lobbied for him with Jody the day before.
     “We need rebounding and shot blocking,” he’d told him. “Tito says they have a kid who’s six foot four.”
    “We’ve got Bobby Last,” Jody had countered.
    “Yeah, but what if he gets in foul trouble?”
    “Hmmm. Maybe you’re right. I’ll think about it.” And he had. He’d put Billy on the team, in spite of the howls of protest
     from the other kids.
    The game began, and Tim stopped thinking about all the other things that were weighing on his mind. He concentrated on basketball
     alone, and so did the other Eagles. By halftime, they were up by 12 points and were looking good, except that Bobby Last had
     four fouls already.
    “You’re gonna have to sit for a while,” Jody told Last.
    “No, Coach,” Bobby complained. “Put me in — I’ll take it easy on him.”
    Him
being the tall kid on the other team — the kid who had single-handedly kept his team in the game with 14 points, a ton of
     rebounds, and six blocked shots in the first half.
    “Nope. Can’t afford to lose you. Donnie — I’mputting you on the big guy. Don’t get in foul trouble, but stay on him as best you can.” He turned to Tim. “You’re doing good,
     Daniels. Keep it up. Just control the tempo. Remember, the clock is our friend. And take care of the ball. No turnovers.”
    “Right,” Tim said, all business.
    The whistle blew for the start of the second half, and Tim got up off the bench. As he headed back onto the court, he scanned
     the bleachers, looking to see if Mike Gruber was still there. He hadn’t been on the bench at halftime, which was a surprise
     to Tim. He’d have thought Mike would still want to feel like a part of the team, even though he was injured.
    And then he saw Mike and knew at once why he hadn’t been on the bench. Gruber was in the last row of the bleachers, with his
     arm around Stephanie Krause’s shoulder. When he saw Tim looking at them, he leaned over and kissed Stephanie right on the
     lips. And he kept it up for a long time, too. Tim stood there, ignoring the ref’s whistle, until Brian Kelly came over and
     shook him. “Yo, shorty, are you in this game or not?”
    “Huh? Oh, yeah,” Tim said, feeling his face go red. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do it.”
    Woodbine won the tap, and went right to their big man. He worked his way in on Donnie D. and sank an easy layup. Donnie was
     a great player, but he was five inches shorter than this kid. There was no way he could stop him without fouling him. Tim
     knew he was going to have to ratchet up the offense, or Woodbine would come storming back on the shoulders of their giant
     center.
    Tim took the inbounds pass and sped up the floor. He switched hands on the dribble, bounced it between his legs, and drove
     the lane, heading for the basket.
    Now if that didn’t impress Stephanie, nothing would.
    Bam!
The big kid in the middle swatted away his shot like it was a mosquito. The rebound resulted in a fast-break bucket the