Athlete vs. Mathlete: Double Dribble (6 page)

Ever since the first practice, where they had totally dominated the court, I'd been worried that the Twinvaders were going to take over the Pioneers in two or three quick moves.

They were so good, it was ridiculous!

And the other guys thought so, too.

I noticed that Nate had started to copy them, like wearing a black rubber bracelet on his wrist. And Paul had asked them eight hundred questions about Minnesota, as if he actually cared how cold it got there or how big the mosquitoes were.

The guys were acting like Mitch and Marcus were movie stars or something, and it was really starting to bug me. After all, we'd grown up together and always been equals. No one on the team had been special, no matter how well
they played. And now these two strangers were being treated like they'd invented the freakin' game.

Even worse, they acted like they deserved to have the rest of us Pioneers as
fans
!

I mean,
come on
.

I tried to talk to Chris about it at our lockers one morning. “It must be nice to go from zeros to heroes in less than a week, huh?” I asked as I pulled out my math book.

“What?” Chris asked, looking confused.

“The new twins.”

“Zeros to heroes?”

“Yeah, they came out of nowhere and now they're worshiped by everybody.”

Chris shook his head. “I don't think they were zeros in Minnesota, O. Their team went to state last year.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Not really,” he said. “Nobody's worshiping them. I think everybody's just excited that two more awesome players joined the team.”

“Without trying out,” I reminded him.

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “But like Coach said, it's not their fault they transferred midseason.”

Frustrated because my best friend had been brainwashed, I told Chris I'd catch him later.

Just like every other day at lunchtime, the Pioneers made sure that there was enough room at our table for the Twinvaders.

And just like every other day so far, they hadn't shown up.

“Do you think they go home to eat?” Nate asked.

“No idea,” I told him. And who cared, anyway?

“You invited them to sit with us, right?” Paul asked Nicky Chu.

“Yeah, during art class.”

I rolled my eyes as I bit into my tuna and sprout sandwich. They probably thought they were too good to eat with us.

Why couldn't anyone else see that they were jerks?

By the time our next game rolled around, I was feeling kind of nervous. It would be the first game for the Matthews twins, and I didn't know what to expect.

I concentrated even less in my classes than usual, and when I got nailed in the head by a piece of beef jerky at lunch, I barely even noticed.

“Think Coach will start them?” Nate asked the table.

“M&M?” Paul asked. “Totally.”

“Seriously?” I practically choked.

“Wouldn't you?” Nicky Chu asked. “I mean, if you had that kind of a combo ready to go, wouldn't you want to give them as many minutes as you could?”

I took another big bite of my tuna sandwich so I wouldn't have to answer.

“Where's Russ?” Chris asked a couple of minutes later.

“Hanging out with his Masters team, I guess.” I glanced at their table and saw that he'd laid out his apple, cookies, and drink and was pointing in turn at each of them. He seemed to be using them to explain … well,
something
.

“You think he'll get cut?” Nate asked.

It took me a second to realize that he was talking about basketball.

“From the team?” I asked, surprised.

“Well, yeah.” Paul shrugged. “We already had a full roster.”

Nate nodded. “And if we're two guys over—”

“Did Coach say he'd be cutting?” I practically choked.

“No, but—”

“Then don't even bring it up!”

As long as Coach didn't have plans to trim the team, it was all just talk and Russ was safe.

I'd just have to hope it stayed that way.

I made it to the locker room right after the last bell. Nicky Chu and Russ were already in there, getting dressed for the game.

“You guys ready?” I asked, pulling my jersey out of my bag. Mom had ironed it the night before, but after a day of being jammed in my locker, it was a wrinkled mess.

“Always,” Nicky Chu said, at the same time Russ mumbled, “I hope so.”

He
hoped
so?

“What's wrong?” I asked my brother.

“Nothing,” he said. “I mean, I'm just wondering how things are going to play out today.”

I was worried about the new guys taking over the Pioneers and winning over the fans, too, but I knew it was my job to keep it together, no matter how I was feeling inside.

“We're going to go out there and score a ton of baskets. That's how it's going to play out.”

The words felt good coming out of my mouth.

“That's what I like to hear,” a voice said from behind me.

I turned to see both twins dressed in their Pioneer uniforms. Coach had given out all the numbered jerseys at the beginning of the season, so Mitch and Marcus were stuck with blank ones until the new order came in. It kind of stunk, because I'd been counting on the numbers to figure out which of them was which.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “And believe me, beating West Slope won't be a problem.” I liked how tough that sounded.

“They're a smaller school,” Russ explained, totally taking the toughness out of it.

“We used to play some—” one of the twins began.

“Huge schools,” the other finished for him.

“Massive,” they said in unison.

“Yeah, well, we've got some pretty massive schools here, too,” I told them.

“Sure, you do.” They gave each other another one of those weird looks, like they were the only ones who understood anything.

That was really starting to tick me off.

But I didn't have time to worry about it because I could hear Coach blowing his whistle out in the gym.

“Let's roll!” I said, heading for the hardwood.

When I jogged over to Coach and the rest of the guys, I waved to some of the fans who cheered for me.

At the far basket, I could see the West Slope team taking shots. I'd always heard they played hard to prove they were better than their purple and orange uniforms, which had to be the ugliest in the league. Judging by their warm-up, the rumors were true.

But they'd never be warm enough for the Pioneers.

Our winning streak was going to stay red hot.

“I want to mix things up a little today,” Coach said, once we were all in the huddle.

Uh-oh.

I took a deep breath, knowing that when Coach mixed things up, it was usually bad news.

“I'm going to have Nicky and Chris start as guards, but I want the Matthews boys as forwards. Paul, you stick to center.”

Wait. What?

The only regular starters who'd be on the bench at tipoff were
Russ and me
?

I tried to shoot my brother a look, the way the Twinvaders did, but he was too busy watching Coach to notice.

Mitch and Marcus didn't even ask who would be playing small forward and who would be power forward, which could only mean one thing. Both of them could play both positions.

The situation was even worse than I thought.

Especially when they jumped up in the air and bumped their chests together.

I tried to imagine Russ and me pulling a move like that, but all I could picture was Russ wiping out.

Once Coach let us break huddle, I went straight to the basket to take a few practice shots of my own. When he put me in, I was going to have to seriously shine.

And I did during the warm-up.

I made a couple of layups, nice and easy, trying to concentrate on the good stuff. Like the sound of everybody's shoes squeaking against the floor, and hearing how excited my teammates were about the game.

I took a deep breath.

I loved basketball and I wasn't going to let a short ride on the bench change that.

After a couple of minutes of dribbling and shooting, I noticed that the Matthews brothers were dribbling, too. But they were bouncing the balls under their legs and
around their backs, like they were the freakin' Harlem Globetrotters.

I mean,
come on
.

Before I could even try to copy some of their moves, the ref blew his whistle. I took another deep breath and started walking toward the bench.

When I passed my new teammates, they high-fived each other, which was something me and my uncoordinated brother could never do, and shouted, “Twin it to win it!”

I looked at Russ, who shook his head.

As the players lined up for the tip-off, the two of us sat together, our eyes glued to our teammates.

When the ref tossed the ball, Paul easily tapped it over to a Twinvader, and I could see why Coach wanted three big guys up there. The twin passed to his brother, over the heads and waving hands of the West Slope players.

I watched Mitch and Marcus weave through the other players, taking huge strides the shorter kids needed two or three steps to match.

One of the twins spun around and whipped a bounce pass to his brother, who dribbled a couple of times, then fired the ball back with another no-look pass, perfectly on target.

The first twin went for the basket and scored the first two points of the game, like it was nothing.

As I watched them play, I saw how they moved together and how each brother always seemed to know exactly where
the other one was on the court. I didn't think they could read each other's minds, like my sci-fi-loving brother did, but he was right about them being “in tune” with each other.

Too bad I didn't like the song.

I watched one of the twins throw the ball toward the basket, and I knew we were in for
another
alley-oop. The second one jumped into the air at just the right moment and scored. It was like they'd planned out the whole game six months ago and practiced each move, over and over again, so they'd look like pros.

It was spooky.

But even I had to admit it was awesome. Ugh.

“You're up, Evans,” Coach said, near the end of the first quarter.

I looked at Russ, who shrugged.

“That was Evans, plural. Both of you get out there,” Coach said.

He didn't have to tell me twice. (Well, actually, I guess he did.)

I can't even describe how happy I was to be bumping Mitch and Marcus back to the bench, even if it was only for a few minutes.

They'd done a ton of damage while they'd been playing, racking up seventeen points between them. Sure, that damage had also put us in the lead.

But still.

I ran toward the twins, shouting, “Subbing for Matthews” because I wasn't totally sure which one I was replacing.

I felt like a hero coming home, even though the bench was only a few feet away from the game. I could almost hear the crowd breathe a sigh of relief as they watched me jog across the hardwood.

The Matthews boys were good, but they were still strangers.

Everybody knew they could count on the Evans twins.

Russ was right beside me, and it felt awesome, knowing that my brother and me were about to be back in business.

I heard a girl scream, “Let's see that Russell Hustle!”

I'd gotten used to his trademark cheer, but Russ hadn't. His face turned bright red.

Then he tripped over his shoelaces.

“Double knots,” I muttered for about the ten thousandth time since he'd started playing.

So much for looking like returning superstars.

Russ quickly retied his laces and I helped him back to his feet.

“Are we ready?” the ref asked, and I could tell he wasn't happy about the delay.

“For sure,” I told him, high-fiving Nate and Paul, then sizing up the sea of purple and orange in front of me.