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Liam chooses a cinnamon-raisin bagel and smothers it with honey-walnut cream cheese. He watches Pelke pour a glass of grapefruit juice for his girlfriend, Chloe. For someone who’s only here because he has to be, Pelke seems to be having a good time.

  Liam slides over to get juice and sees Coach Kloss coming toward him.

  “Bergie, I’m glad you made it.” Coach slaps him on the back. “One hundred percent—everyone from varsity basketball is here.”

  Staley and a senior with red hair stand in front of the fireplace and motion for quiet. “I’m Chris Staley from basketball.”

  “And I’m Trisha Norwood from swimming. For anybody new, we’re your HAF co-captains.”

  “Thanks for being here,” Staley says. “This is our largest turnout of the year.”

  Everybody claps and Coach beams.

  “For the warm-up, we want you to break up into small groups of four or five and introduce yourself.” Trisha twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “Tell the group which sport you play and share a triumph and a challenge. A triumph is something good that’s happened and a challenge is something you’re struggling with.”

  Circles form on the living room carpet and Liam and Seth join the nearest one. Trisha gestures to Liam. “Why don’t you begin?”

  “I’m Liam Bergstrom and I play basketball.” Liam tries to think of a triumph. “I’ve been on varsity for a little over a week and I’m doing pretty good.” He hopes it doesn’t sound like bragging, especially in front of Seth.

  “And a challenge?” Trisha encourages him with a smile.

  Liam taps his heel. “My girlfriend is in France for four months. That’s a gigantic challenge.” He turns to the left to indicate he’s finished.

  “My name’s Chloe Keenan. I play basketball and my triumph is finding people in my life I can really count on.” She smiles at Pelke. “My challenge was having to work with Jared Drake to set up the food for this meeting.”

  Liam laughs with the others and Chloe grins. Her brown hair is pulled back in an orange headband. She’s pretty in a perky sort of way.

  “My real challenge is my younger sister,” she says. “I’m worried about the friends she’s hanging out with.” Liam watches others nod sympathetically. Chloe’s challenge is caring about someone else. Maybe that’s what he was supposed to say. He should have said something about Grandma.

  After everybody finishes, Staley introduces Drake. “As you know, some of us have been working on our own Champion’s Prayer.” Drake gives copies to Chloe, who passes them around the room. Drake waits until everybody has one. “Let’s all read the first two verses together.”

  “‘God, You are awesome and almighty.’” All the voices blend together. “‘Help us to understand and follow the path You have chosen for us. As athletes, let us compete in the image of Christ.’” Liam looks around. He doesn’t even know what competing in the image of Christ means.

  “’Heavenly Father, through You, all gifts come to us.’” Liam’s throat tightens as he follows the words on the page. “’We give all praise and honor in Your name.’” Seth reads along next to him, and Pelke’s loud voice echoes across the room. “’Help us to become champions for Jesus.’”

  Liam stares at his paper. Image of Christ. Champions for Jesus. This doesn’t feel right. He can’t say these things just because everybody else is.

  09

  Pressure

  “Thanks for the chocolates, Kenz. They were great.”

  “Good. I’m so glad it’s you. I’m dying to talk English.”

  He tosses dirty socks and boxers off his chair and sits down. “What are you doing?”

  “Homework. And I’m sick of it. I’m sick of everything being in French.” She sighs. “I have to work so hard to say the right words, and sometimes I know what I want to say, but I don’t have the vocabulary, so I sound like a total idiot.”

  “I do that in English.”

  “Living with someone else’s family is frustrating, too. Everybody says treat it like your own home, but it isn’t mine. I have to adjust to their ways of doing things. They only talk to me in French, too, even though they all know English.” She pauses. “I miss my own house. I miss my family. I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too, Kenz.” Liam looks at her picture on his desk. “I wish you were here in my room.”

  “I wish you were holding me right now.”

  “I do, too.” He scratches the back of his neck. “How are we going to handle fourteen and a half more weeks?”

  “I don’t know,” she says. “Some days are harder than others.”

  “What are you wearing right now?”

  “Why? I look terrible.”

  “You’re so far away. Knowing would make you feel a little closer.”

  “My pink sweats and my coral Abercrombie tank top. Does that help?”

  “Yeah. Is your hair pulled back?”

  “No, it’s down.”

  “Good.” A semester feels way too long. Why couldn’t she go for a week at spring break? “So what do you miss the most?”

  “Turtle Blizzards from Dairy Queen.”

  “No. Really?”

  “You, silly. I miss you.”

  “You can have both as soon as you get back.” Excitement rushes through him, and he shifts his position.

  “Yummy.” She giggles. “How did your day go?”

  “It was strange.” Liam picks at a fingernail and tells her about the HAF meeting. “Some people seem sincere, but others, like Pelke, don’t believe any of it and are only saying the words. I can’t do that.”

  “Of course not,” Mackenzie says.

  “I’d feel like a fake.” Liam stands. “And Coach leads prayers before every game and at halftime and expects us to lead them, too. It feels weird.”

  “What’s the matter with prayer?”

  “Nothing, but it’s kind of a personal thing. I don’t think Coach should be making us do it in the locker room.”

  “It sounds to me like you’re worrying too much.”

  Liam looks out the window and doesn’t respond. He’s not worrying. Just trying to tell her what’s going on. Why can’t she see that?

  “Liam.” Mackenzie fills the silence. “I’ve got some bad news. My dad got my cell phone bill. It cost a ton. He’s upset at how much we’ve been talking. He says I’m only supposed to use my phone to call them or for emergencies.”

  “What?” They haven’t talked that much. Liam stares at the dried cornstalks standing in the snow.

  “I can’t call you for a month,” she says.

  “A month?”

  “That’s what my dad said.”

  Liam sits down on the bed and rubs his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” Mackenzie says quietly. “Li, are you still there?”

  “Yeah.” He opens his eyes.

  “Don’t be mad at me. It’s not my decision. I’ll e-mail.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “I know,” she says. “I’m frustrated, too. We’ll just have to get through this month.”

  “I don’t know if I can make it that long.”

  “I’ve got to go, Li. Dad will see this call on next month’s bill. We’ll figure something out. Bye, Li.”

  “Bye.” Liam snaps his phone shut and pounds his fist on the bed.

  Saturday night, Liam’s hands fly at the controls of NBA Live. He’s up ninety-nine to ninety-eight and traps Seth at half-court. Seth twists and launches a wild shot.

  “For the win,” Seth shouts.

  “No way,” Liam hollers.

  The ball swishes through the net.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Seth jumps up and down using the couch as a trampoline.

  “I don’t believe it.” Liam tackles Seth and they fall to the carpet.

  “Believe it, sucker.” Seth turns him over and pins him.

  The doorbell rings and Seth runs to get it.

  “Good evening, Mr. Pizza Man. Let me introduce you to the Big Loser.” He motions to Liam
. “He’s paying and he tips extremely well.”

  Liam pulls bills out of his wallet and gives them to the delivery guy.

  Seth opens the box. “Pineapple and ham? Who’d ruin pizza by putting pineapple on it?”

  “It’s good,” Liam says. “Try a piece.”

  “No chance.” Seth grabs a pepperoni slice. “Don’t let any of that pineapple get on my half.”

  Liam slurps his Pepsi. “That meeting at Drake’s house. What did you think of it?”

  “It was okay.” Seth chews with his mouth open.

  Liam wipes cheese off his chin. “We didn’t do anything like that last year.”

  Seth leans forward. “Drake says it builds team unity and helps guys focus.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Liam shrugs. “Are you going again on Thursday?”

  “Yeah. Drake says it’s a plus for making varsity next year.”

  “Really?” Liam wipes a blob of sauce from his jeans. Since when is Seth talking so much with Drake?

  Seth burps loudly. “This time, though, I’ll bring my own doughnuts.”

  “What are you doing?” Liam sits down across from Mom at the dining room table.

  “Budget review. I have finance committee tomorrow morning.” Lines crease her forehead as she studies papers. “We must have been out of our minds to schedule that first thing on Monday.” She pets Dizzy, who snores in her lap.

  “How’s it look?” Liam picks up an eraser.

  “I need to make more cuts.” She circles a number with a red pencil. “Maybe I’ll lay myself off. I could get back to my painting.” She circles another number. “But somebody has college coming up, so I guess I have to keep plugging away. Do you have any more of those chocolates?”

  “No, I finished them.”

  “Darn. I could really use one.”

  “Mom, remember when you asked about Coach Kloss?” Liam squeezes the eraser.

  “Yes.” She crosses out a line on her page.

  “Well, he’s kind of into religion.”

  “What do you mean?” She looks up.

  “You know…prayers and stuff.”

  “What kind of prayers?” She sets her pencil down.

  “He makes up his own prayers.” Liam rolls the eraser around.

  “Christian prayers? Does he mention Jesus?”

  “Yeah, he talks about the Lord and doing His work. Then we always say the Our Father.”

  “I don’t believe this. He can’t be doing that in public school.” Mom stands, dumping Dizzy to the floor. “He’s a teacher whose salary is paid by taxpayers. He can practice any faith he wants, but he can’t lead you kids in prayer at school.”

  Liam taps the eraser on the table. “That’s kind of what I thought. Coach acts like everybody on the team is a Christian, but he doesn’t know that. Not everybody at school is.”

  “Of course not.” Mom’s face flushes when she gets worked up. “Leah Braverman is on the girls’ team and she’s Jewish. How do you think she’d feel if her coach led Christian prayers?”

  “Uncomfortable.” Liam slouches in his chair.

  “Of course. Separation of church and state is a fundamental American principle.” She sits down directly across from him, and her eyes zero in. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “I just wanted to talk about it, not do something.”

  “Liam, it’s wrong. When something is wrong, you have an obligation to take action.”

  Liam concentrates on the wood grain of the oak table. Suddenly, he feels in over his head. He’s not like Mom. He’s not looking for controversy.

  Besides, he can’t jeopardize his place on varsity.

  10

  His Call

  Monday morning, Liam arrives at school early and goes straight to the gym. JV players in street clothes are finishing up their one hundred free throws.

  “Bergie, you’re back,” Seth calls out. “You missed us so much, you couldn’t stay away?”

  “Yeah, you especially.” Liam blows Seth a kiss and the guys laugh.

  “Sick.” Seth drains a free throw. “Fifty-eight.”

  Liam leans against the Blazer Country mat behind Seth’s hoop and watches guys shoot. It seems ages ago that he played with them.

  “Fifty-nine.” Seth hops around as the ball rolls around and drops in.

  Coach G moves among the players, offering advice. He’s a good coach—serious about winning but low-key in practice. Liam improved a lot playing for him.

  Seth sinks another shot. “Sixty percent.” He dances over to Liam. “Hey, just because you’re on varsity doesn’t mean you can’t come to our games.”

  “I know.” Liam folds his arms.

  “We’re playing here Friday.” Seth puts him in a headlock. “Come support your boys.”

  “I’ll try.” Liam breaks free as guys head to the locker room to write down their percentages on the chart.

  “Hey, Coach G.” Liam holds out his hand.

  “Hi, Liam.” Coach G squeezes with a firm grip. He’s got reddish-brown hair and a bushy mustache.

  Liam picks up a loose ball and sets it in the cage. “Coach, I’ve got something I want to ask you.”

  “Shoot.” Coach gathers two more balls and tosses them to Liam.

  “When I played for Coach Cullen in ninth grade and for you on JV, we never prayed before games or talked about Jesus.” Liam shoves the balls in.

  “Yup.”

  “Now on varsity, we do.”

  “Yup.” Coach G wheels the cage to the equipment room and Liam trails after him. “Every coach does things his own way.”

  “Yeah, but why didn’t you do it?”

  “Kids come from different backgrounds and believe different things. Some kids don’t believe much of anything.” Coach G pushes the rack against the wall. “I have to work with kids where they are.” He pulls out a key ring from his pocket.

  “So you don’t think prayer in the locker room is a good idea?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Coach G locks the door and shakes the handle to make sure it’s secure. “You need to talk with Coach Kloss about that. You’re on varsity now. It’s his call.”

  At practice, Liam plants his feet against Drake, who’s banging against him. Pelke passes the ball and Liam turns and shoots. Drake jumps and blocks it.

  “Don’t be looking for your shot, Bergie,” Coach Kloss says. “We’ve got plenty of shooters on this team. Get the ball to them. Rebounding and defense, that’s your job.”

  Liam hurries back on defense. “I’ve got yours.” He slides over and slaps the ball off Nielsen’s knee.

  “Good help defense,” Coach calls.

  Liam passes the ball in. Pelke shoots a long jumper and Liam runs to the hoop for the rebound. The ball bounces off the rim and he leaps for it. He passes to Gund, who nails the jumper from the free throw line.

  “Good board.” Staley slaps Liam’s hand.

  “Drake, you can’t give up easy rebounds like that,” Coach shouts.

  Liam runs downcourt with extra energy. It’s a rush to anticipate where the ball will go. It’s like seeing the future.

  Coach blows his whistle. “Bonus situation. Hit both ends of the one and one.” Coach shoots a free throw and hits all net. “If you miss your first one, run two laps around the gym. If you miss your second, one lap.”

  Liam looks at the other guys, who are catching their breath. Just what they need. Pressure free throws to end practice.

  “We’re in this as a team.” Coach makes his second shot. “We’re not leaving until everybody makes two in a row.” Liam grabs a ball, dribbles to the far hoop, and lines up his feet. He bounces the ball twice and shoots. The ball hits the front rim and rattles in.

  Drake runs past. He must have missed his first shot. Liam goes to the line and eyes the hoop. He dribbles and shoots. Too hard. The ball clangs off the back rim. He leaves the ball bouncing and takes off running. Nielsen’s ahead of hi
m. He must have missed his, too. They’re going to be here all night.

  Liam runs back, picks up the ball, and toes the line. He doesn’t want to be the last one. The ball is off to the right from the moment it leaves his hands. He runs hard on his two laps, passing Gund and Staley, who are sprawled out on the bleachers. They made their two in a row. That figures—they’re the two best shooters on the team. Pelke jogs over to join them. He’s not a great shooter, but he hits his free throws.

  Liam finishes his second lap and picks up the ball. Relax. Take your time. He dribbles, exhales, and shoots. The ball hits the rim, rolls back, and drops in. One more.

  “C’mon, Bergie. Finish it off,” Staley shouts.

  Liam lines up, feeling eyes on him. Relax. Take your time. He aims and shoots. Swish—the beautiful sound. He runs to the bleachers and pounds fists with Pelke and Staley.

  Drake and Nielsen are still shooting and Liam exhales a long breath. It’s better to watch than be watched. Drake makes his shot and raises his arms in triumph.

  “You can do it, Nielsen.” Staley claps.

  Liam starts clapping, too. Staley’s solid. As head of HAF, he doesn’t just talk. He walks the walk.

  Nielsen lines up and makes the first one.

  “Big Man, Big Man,” Pelke chants.

  “Big Man, Big Man.” Liam joins in with the others.

  Nielsen buries the second and grins with embarrassment and relief.

  After getting dressed, Liam sits on the bench in the locker room and rubs the rash on his finger. Everybody else is gone.

  What’s Coach Kloss doing? Liam gets up and paces back and forth in front of the training room. Why is he taking so long?

  He goes back to the bench and sits down. Suddenly, he feels dizzy, like the room is closing in on him. He grabs his coat and rushes out the back door. He takes a breath of cold air. He can talk to Coach some other time.

  Wind whips snow around the dark parking lot as he turns on the Toyota and pops in a CD. He races out of the empty lot, and the orange warning light next to the gas gauge blinks on. He doesn’t feel like getting gas in the cold.

  He doesn’t want to go home and have Mom question him either, so he stops at Subway. “Turkey sandwich on wheat with everything except onions and hot peppers, and two chocolate chip cookies.” While he waits, he calls home and leaves a message. “I’m going to see Grandma. I’ll be back later.”