Long Shot - Mike Lupica [37]
“You know all the fun I’m always talking about in basketball? Well, this here is that fun.”
The horn sounded. As they started walking back on the court, Ned grabbed Pedro by the arm. “I’ve been messing up,” he said. “Big-time.”
“You just missed a bunch of shots you usually make,” Pedro said.
“I’m not just talking about today,” Ned said. “I’ve been a jerk.”
Pedro grinned. “We can debate that another time. Right now, let’s just win the game.”
“Got a plan?” Ned said.
“Yeah,” Pedro said. “We outwork their butts.”
“Pick-and-roll without the pick?” Ned said.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
They pounded fists. The refs were taking a little extra time, because something was wrong with the scoreboard. While they straightened it out at the scorers’ table, Pedro got between Joe and Bobby and told them what the plan was.
Joe said, “Are you insane?”
“Probably.”
Joe nodded. “I’m good with that,” he said to Pedro.
Pedro knew what was going to happen. He could see it inside his head. Could see it happening like his dad making that bicycle kick of his, putting the ball in the net every single time, one move leading to the next.
And to the next.
Jamal inbounded the ball at half-court. Pedro went and got it, as Joe and Jamal and Bobby cleared out. Kyle was on Pedro, and Josh Watson was still on Ned as Ned came running toward Pedro, looking for all the world like he wanted to set a huge pick.
Josh called it out.
Pedro didn’t care. He knew what was coming the way Ned did, because they were back to reading each other’s minds the way they used to.
It went exactly the way it had in the pickup game right before the season started. Ned stopped before he set his pick. Josh laid off him, giving him room, expecting him to break for the basket whether he’d set a pick or not.
Pedro checked the clock.
Eight seconds.
Instead of cutting for the basket, Ned popped back into the corner. When he was open, Pedro whipped the ball over to him.
As soon as he did, it wasn’t just Josh covering him, it was Kyle running at him, too. Like the last game. It was the same spot where Ned had just made his three-pointer. The Warriors weren’t going to leave him open from there.
When Ned saw the double-team, he kicked the ball right back to Pedro, wide-open now at the right of the foul line.
Wide-open for the same shot he’d missed against Wilton the other day.
Only they had more time today.
So now Ned cut down the baseline for the basket, hand up, calling for the ball. A step ahead of Josh Watson.
Ned was open, too. Just not enough.
Trust it, Pedro’s dad always said.
Trust it.
So Pedro trusted that Joe Sutter, the real hot hand today, was where he was supposed to be. Where Pedro had told him to be.
Pedro’s eyes never left Ned as he one-handed a no-look pass all the way across the court to his best bud.
Then all he had to do was watch as Joe caught the ball and didn’t hesitate. No time for that. He just squared his shoulders and let the ball go and watched along with everybody else as the shot that beat Wilton hit nothing but net.
Game.
NINETEEN
Election Day.
Everybody was scheduled to cast their ballots in their last morning class.
The teachers in each class would then collect the ballots and deliver them to Mr. Lucchino’s office after the period. Then he and the vice principal, Mrs. Connolly, would count the votes while the students were at lunch.
The announcement about which ticket had won, Pedro’s or Ned’s, would come at two o’clock.
“It’s like it’s the end of a game,” Pedro said, “but I don’t get to do anything to decide how it comes out.”
“You already did,” Joe said.
“How do you figure?” Pedro said.
“When you made your speech, to me that was game, set and match,” Joe said. “That’s what they say in tennis, right?”
“Only when the match is over,” Pedro said.
“Trust me,” Joe said, “this baby is over.”
He and Joe and Sarah all voted in Social Studies. Pedro smiled as he looked at his own name, then put a check mark next to it so big and thick he made the little box disappear.
When they got