Box Out Read online

  Liam exhales and shoots. Seconds slow and the shot looks good as it arcs toward the hoop.

  The ball hits the back of the rim, bounces up, touches the front rim, and rolls off. Forty-two wraps up the rebound as the buzzer sounds. Liam stands at the line and stares at the hoop. All the hundreds—thousands—of free throws he’s made. How could he miss both of them? He turns to the scoreboard. Crosston 61, Horizon 60. Game over.

  He shuffles to the bench as Crosston fans dance onto the court.

  “Get ’em next time.” Chris Staley slaps his back.

  “Remember this feeling.” Coach puts his arm around Liam. “Use it to become a better player. You’re on varsity now. We’re counting on you.”

  Liam nods. Coach could have ripped into him and sent him straight back to JV. He could have said he made a mistake and brought Seth up instead.

  The rest of the guys head back to the locker room. Nobody else says anything to him. They don’t need to. Liam let the team down.

  He sees his parents standing at the side of the court. Mom rushes over and gives him a hug. “I’m sorry, Liam.”

  “Not now, Mom.” He frees himself.

  “It’s okay,” Dad says.

  “It’s not okay.” Liam shakes his head. “I lost the game.”

  “One game, Liam. You have a long season ahead. You’ll have other chances.”

  “Not playing like this.” Liam turns and trudges to the locker room.

  The January cold slaps Liam’s face as he walks to his car after the game. He scrunches his shoulders as he fumbles to insert the key in the lock. It’s freezing. Nights like this are when he misses Seattle most. He starts the Toyota and flips the heat to high.

  The flat, empty streets of Horizon are quiet. After two and a half years here, he’s still getting used to living in a small town. Most of the guys at school have known one another since kindergarten. If you didn’t grow up here, you’re an outsider.

  He turns left at the post office and drives past his church, Saint Mary’s, with the statue of Mary holding Jesus in front. Behind the church, lights shine at the one-story, brick nursing home where Grandma lives. Last Sunday they celebrated her eighty-third birthday. Grandma liked the cake and balloons but asked him twice whose birthday it was.

  Grandma is the reason they moved here in the first place. After she fell and broke her hip, she couldn’t live in her house anymore. Then she had a stroke and started to have memory problems. It was difficult for Dad to keep flying out to see her. So when a job opened up at the elementary school, he applied and they moved. Now Dad visits her every day and bugs Liam to stop by more often.

  9:32. Too late to see how she’s doing. Besides, what would he talk about? Blowing the game? Missing those free throws was huge. He choked on that first one, but that second shot felt good. That would have tied it and sent the game into overtime. They’d still be playing. They’d still have a chance to win.

  Liam drives past the Athletic Building at Borton College, where three guys wearing shorts are carrying basketballs as they walk back to their dorms. Are they crazy? Don’t they realize it’s freezing?

  The team needed Darius on that last possession. He would have made the shot with the game on the line. But he wasn’t there because of Liam’s stupid turnovers. Liam would give anything to have another chance to catch those passes. His phone breaks the silence.

  “That game sucked big time,” Seth says in his deep voice.

  “Tell me about it.” Liam turns the heater down to hear better. “I blew it.”

  “Don’t take it all on,” Seth says. “Lots of guys missed shots.”

  Liam brakes at the four-way stop. “Darius quitting sucks, too.”

  “What? I thought he got hurt. What happened?”

  “I don’t know. He walked out while Coach was ripping into him for trying to do too much.”

  “Well, he was hogging the ball,” Seth says. “He didn’t pass to anyone.”

  “He passed to me twice. I dropped it both times. I wouldn’t have passed to me after that either.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Right by Connie’s Cafe.” The car rattles as Liam bumps over railroad tracks.

  “We’re at Burger King. Come on over.”

  “Nah. I don’t feel like it.”

  “I’ll buy you a Whopper.”

  “Nah. I want to get home.”

  “Big baby.”

  “Later.” Liam flips the phone shut as he drives past the turnoff to Mackenzie’s house. If she were here, she’d hold him tight and whisper that it’s all right. She’d make him feel better. But he can’t call her now because it’s the middle of the night in France.

  He stops at the red light by Lonetree Elementary, Dad’s school. No other cars are around and this light takes forever. He could run it. But with his luck tonight, a cop would show and he’d get nailed.

  So he replays the dropped passes and missed free throws as he waits and waits and waits for the light to go green.

  03

  Never the Same Twice

  Wednesday morning, Liam finds a parking place in the back lot and turns off the engine. The last thing he wants to do is walk by Jock Corner, where all the senior basketball players hang out. So he pulls down his stocking cap and hikes all the way around the school in the whipping wind.

  He hangs his coat in his locker, grabs his books, and shoves them in his backpack. Down the hall, Pelke’s locked in a kiss with his girlfriend, Chloe Keenan from the girls’ basketball team. Sixteen long weeks until Mackenzie gets back.

  “Bergie.” Seth’s voice rumbles. “Cookieees.” Seth rips open a package of Oreos. He’s wearing another tight shirt to show off his weight lifting. “Me love cookieees.” He has the Cookie Monster voice down.

  “Thanks.” Liam takes one.

  “How you doing?” Seth grabs three.

  “Hanging in there.” Liam unscrews the top of an Oreo and scrapes the frosting off with his teeth.

  “Don’t give me that. You’re on varsity hoops and going out with Mackenzie Kost. You’ve got it made.” Seth pops Oreos in his mouth like they’re candy.

  Liam eats the chocolate part of his cookie.

  “You got some rebounds last night.” Seth holds out the bag.

  “You would have, too. I wish we both could have been called up.”

  “Somebody’s got to do the dirty work on JV.” Seth bounces back and forth and fakes a punch at Liam’s chest. “We won by twelve yesterday.”

  Liam eats another cookie. “You used up all your fouls?”

  “Count on it. A couple of hard fouls get guys thinking.”

  “I know. I’ve still got the bruises.”

  “I helped toughen you up.” Seth flexes his biceps in a muscleman pose and other kids turn to look. “If I’d gone against me in practice, I’d have been called up to varsity. Instead I had to go against a wimp.”

  “Shut up.” Liam pushes him. “Next year, we’ll play monster defense together.”

  “Me love defense.” Seth holds out the bag again. “Cookieees.”

  Liam takes two and jams them in his mouth, and he and Seth head in different directions.

  Jared Drake comes around the corner and Liam ducks his head.

  “Tough break last night.” Drake stops and rubs a hand through his short black hair.

  “Yeah. I’d like those shots back.”

  “We should have wrapped it up before then. We should have won by ten.”

  Liam twists the strap on his backpack. “It’s too bad about Darius.”

  “Who?”

  “Darius. Quitting the team.”

  “Who?”

  “Darius Buckner. You know.”

  “I don’t know him.” Drake shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know anyone who quits on his teammates.”

  Liam leans up against a locker and isn’t sure what to say.

  “Listen, I’ve got an offer for you.” Drake moves closer and Liam smells his aftershave. “Now that y
ou’re on varsity, my dad says we can use you for a few hours at the store. Are you interested in a part-time job at Shoe Source?”

  “Yeah. I’d love it.”

  “It’s every other Saturday. Not a lot of hours. Seniors get the prime shifts, but you’d still get a forty percent discount on shoes.”

  “Great.” Liam looks down at his worn Nikes. He could use a new pair.

  “Noon on Saturday. I’ll train you in.”

  “Thanks.” Liam switches his pack to his other arm. “Tell your dad thanks, too.”

  “Also, remember the meeting tomorrow before school.”

  “What meeting?”

  “HAF.”

  “What?”

  “Horizon Athletic Fellowship,” Drake says. “We meet at my house at seven. See you there.”

  Liam watches the clock during economics, his last class of the day. How can the hands move so slowly? Mr. Einerson diagrams something called elasticity of demand on the board. Twenty more minutes and he can call Kenz. C’mon, time, move.

  When the period finally ends, he hurries to the industrial tech wing, where the phone reception is better.

  Mackenzie picks up after three rings. “Hey, Liam. How was the game?”

  “Lousy. I missed two free throws and we lost.” He sets his gym bag down on the floor.

  “That stinks. Did you lose by a lot?”

  “No, one point.” He kicks an empty juice bottle down the hall.

  “That’s t…d…”

  “What?”

  “Th…te…b…”

  “I can’t hear you.” Liam moves closer to the window. “You’re breaking up.”

  “Who’s breaking up?”

  “You were. I couldn’t hear you.” He stares out at the snow-covered soccer field. He’s been waiting all day to call. Now that he’s finally talking to her, the words are getting in the way. “How are you doing, Kenz?”

  “I’m really homesick. I wish I was back in Horizon. Dad keeps saying what a great opportunity this is to improve my French, but I don’t think it’s gotten much better. I miss you, Li.”

  “I miss you more.”

  “No. Me more. I wish I was snuggled up against you right now.”

  “I do, too, Kenz.”

  “I miss so many things: you, my family, the food. Tonight Madame Giroux made coq au vin, but what I’m craving is chicken nuggets. Then she brought out homemade crêpes. She pouts if I refuse, so I had to eat two of them. I’ve already gained a pound and a half. I’ll be a pig by the time I get home. Oink. Oink.”

  “Stop it.” Liam laughs. Even with an extra pound and a half, she’s thinner than most girls. “Kenz, I’ve got to get to practice.”

  “Ooooh. Your first varsity practice?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ll do great.”

  “Thanks, Kenz.”

  “Oink. Oink.”

  “Stop it. Gotta go.” Liam flips the phone closed. Sometimes hearing her voice makes her feel even farther away. He picks up his bag and throws the strap over his shoulder.

  On the way to the locker room, he passes girls from the basketball team who are laughing outside the art room.

  “Cleared for takeoff.” Chloe Keenan runs down the hall and jumps into the arms of Iris Cleary, who twirls her around.

  “Hi, Liam.” Leah Braverman waves. She’s a senior with dark, curly hair and a wide smile.

  “Hey.” Last year she did an internship with Mom at the Arts Center, and Mom went on and on about how smart and talented she was.

  “Let last night go.” Her silver nose stud flashes as she turns. “Jack always says the river is never the same twice.”

  Liam scratches his head. What’s that supposed to mean? And who’s Jack? “Whatever.” Everyone says the girls’ team plays silly games and goofs around in practice.

  Liam knows Coach Kloss’s reputation. His practice isn’t going to be anything like that.

  04

  Killers

  Liam tightens the drawstring on his shorts as he walks down the hall to the small gym behind Gund, Nielsen, and Pelke. He breathes in the new shirt smell of his practice jersey.

  “He never fit in.” Nielsen pulls his shirt down over his belly.

  “He didn’t try to,” Gund says. “He had an attitude. He wouldn’t go to HAF. He wouldn’t run the offense. He wanted to do his own thing.”

  “Admit it.” Pelke rolls a ball in his hands. “You were tired of him stealing the ball from you in practice. You’re glad he’s gone.”

  “You’re the one he dunked on.” Gund gives him a shove.

  “He always kept to himself.” Nielsen adjusts his jock. “Like he thought he was superior.”

  “What do you expect from someone who hangs around the art room all the time?” Gund says. “Maybe he’s gay.”

  “Gay and a gunner.” Pelke bounces the ball off his head soccer style.

  “Yeah, he shot the ball every time he got it,” Nielsen says.

  “The gay gunner,” Pelke announces, and the three of them laugh.

  Liam follows quietly behind. He should say something. He should stand up for Darius. But these guys are seniors.

  “You ready for killers, Big Man?” Pelke tosses the ball to Nielsen.

  “Why?”

  “Coach is going to be tough after the loss.”

  Liam’s stomach tightens. It wouldn’t have been a loss if he’d made his free throws.

  “Gather round.” Coach Kloss stands at center court. “We’ve got a lot of work today.”

  Liam jogs over with the guys. Coach doesn’t sound that mad.

  “It’s simple,” Coach says. “We lost last night because we missed eight free throws in the second half.” He holds up eight fingers.

  “Bergie, Nielsen, and Drake each missed two. Pelke missed one. So did you, Gund. Eight misses. All we needed was two to win.” He adjusts the whistle around his neck. “They’re called free throws because they’re free points. We’ve got to have them.”

  Liam tightens the lace on his left shoe. At least he’s not the only one Coach is blaming.

  “We were nine of twelve in the first half and five of thirteen in the second. That tells me one thing. What do you think it is?”

  “We didn’t concentrate enough,” Gund says.

  “No. Why would we concentrate in the first half and not in the second?”

  We choked, Liam thinks, but he’s not going to say it. Nobody else says anything either.

  “We missed free throws because we were tired. You were bending over with your hands on your knees. That’s a sure sign of fatigue. Our conditioning needs to be better, and I take responsibility for that.”

  Liam stretches his arms behind his back to open up his shoulders. He wasn’t too tired last night. He sat on the bench for most of the second half.

  “We’re supposed to be the best-conditioned team in the conference.” Coach raises his index finger. “Number one. Nobody should outwork or outhustle Horizon.”

  Liam looks down at the floor. This sounds serious.

  “Everybody line up for killers.” Coach walks to the side.

  Everyone hurries to the baseline.

  “Go,” Coach hollers.

  Liam puts his head down and runs with the team. Free throw line, back. Half-court, back. Other free throw line, back. End line and back. Over and over. Running this way feels like punishment.

  “Hustle,” Coach calls.

  It is punishment. Punishment they wouldn’t have to suffer if he’d made his free throws.

  “Pick up the pace. You’re dogging it. I’m going to add extra killers for all of you if one person slacks off.”

  Liam runs harder and makes sure to touch each line.

  “All the way,” Coach hollers.

  Nielsen, who’s the biggest guy, is panting and trailing behind.

  “Push yourself.” Coach twirls his whistle.

  How long will he run them? Maybe until someone drops. Liam isn’t going to let it be him
. He tries to let his mind go blank to avoid the pain as he runs and runs and runs. When Coach finally blows the whistle, Liam’s legs shake like a fawn struggling to stand. He gasps for breath, and his heart beats so fast, it feels like a bomb about to explode.

  Nielsen dry heaves at the water fountain, and Liam turns away so Nielsen doesn’t see him watching.

  “Staley, you’re starting shooting guard now.” Coach stands under the basket.

  Staley, the sandy-haired junior, steps forward.

  “First five, we’ll run the offense here. Second five, down to that basket.” Coach points to the far hoop. “Sharp passes. Solid screens. Show some spirit.”

  Liam jogs down with the second five and reviews his responsibilities. He lines up and rushes to set a screen on an imaginary opponent.

  “That’s the way, Bergie.” Coach claps.

  Liam concentrates on the patterns. It’s the same offense he ran on JV, but somehow it feels faster now. As they run it over and over, he makes sure to cut quickly and precisely.

  Coach Kloss blows his whistle. “Everybody down here. Two-on-two rebounding drill. Crosston had eleven more rebounds last night. We need to do a better job of boxing out.”

  He motions Drake forward. “If I’m on defense guarding Drake, I need to stay close to him. As soon as the shot goes up, I box out by pushing back with my butt and hips to keep him away from the hoop.” Coach squats down and pushes Drake past the free throw line. “That way I can grab the rebound.”

  Coach looks around at the guys. “You can’t rebound if you don’t box out. Some of you are not showing enough energy.” He looks around the group. “First four, out here. Box out.”

  Nielsen slams back and catches Liam off balance. Liam struggles to hold his ground, but Nielsen stays with him and drives him out. Liam can’t be so passive against somebody so bulky. He has to use his quickness.

  “Switch,” Coach calls.

  Liam pushes against Nielsen and keeps his body on him as they battle for inside position. Coach shoots from the free throw line and the ball bounces up. Liam holds off Nielsen and grabs the ball.

  “That’s it, Bergie. Box out and protect your space. Nielsen, you’re playing too soft. You need to want it more.” Coach hits his fist against his palm. “Switch.”