Collateral Damage
Page 6
Ty felt the blood rushing to his face. He put the ball in front of him.
“Demonte, you best not be trash talkin’ if you can’t bring game,” Rondell said.
“We play ball with you, you skate with us, that’s the deal?” Benj pointed at the skateboards resting in the grass. “Ty, let’s see how good you and Rondell are on wheels.”
“I can teach you something about that,” said Ty’s dad as he popped a wheelie with his chair. Ty knew why his dad was back in his wheelchair. He had pushed himself too hard with the exercises his physical therapist recommended, but that was the Denver Douglas way. With time and patience, his dad would be back with the walker, then walking again.
Ty looked at his friends. They all looked like they wanted to laugh at the wheelchair trick but didn’t know if they should, so Ty went on point.
“Good one, Dad.”
Ty’s dad laughed the loudest. But the laughter gave way to noise from a nearby court. Ty recognized one voice among the chaos: Arquavis. Since Arquavis hooked up with Shania, he and Ty hadn’t spoken, other than on the court and only when necessary. Now that the season was over, with the Wildcats eliminated in the first round of playoffs, Ty didn’t need to maintain his silence or the peace.
“Where you going, Ty?” Benj yelled as Ty started toward the other court. His walk turned into a run, ending in a full out sprint.
“Arquavis!” Ty shouted as he closed in. Arquavis and three other players, older guys he vaguely remembered from school, stopped their game. Jamal was on the bench, looking at his phone.
“Hey, guys, you remember Tyshawn Douglas,” Arquavis said, smiling. “He used to be starting point guard. He used to have the hottest girlfriend, but used to don’t count for much.”
“That’s what you’d like to think.” Ty stared at Arquavis, who stared back. Neither blinked.
“He wants everybody to feel sorry for him ‘cause his dad got all messed up in the war.”
“I don’t want anything from you Arquavis,” Ty countered. “Except an apology.”
Arquavis faced Ty as he talked, but his audience was the other players on the court. “If you’re talking about Shania—”
“I know you talked her into breaking up with me.”
“How she tells it, you weren’t that into her,” Arquavis said. His buds laughed. Ty wanted to counter, to tell the truth, but not around strangers. “You’re just a loser, Tyshawn.”
“Let’s go, you and me, one on one!” Ty shouted in Arquavis’s face. But before Arquavis could answer, Ty heard a noise behind him followed by Rondell’s voice.
“You don’t need to go it alone, Teflon,” Rondell said. “You got a team.”
“I see one player, one loser, and two skaters. You’re four players short of a team,” laughed Arquavis.
“Five players is a team, and I’m on point.” Ty heard his dad say as he turned around. The wheelchair moved roughly across the pitted pavement. “Now, gimme that ball.”
Arquavis tossed the ball hard and high, but Ty’s dad caught it with ease. He bounced the ball rhythmically. It sounded like the marching of boots, the beating of a heart.
“Serious?” Arquavis said. His friends all laughed, except Jamal.
“Serious,” Ty’s dad answered as he shot the ball to the net. The ball banged the backboard and fell through the hoop. “Basketball’s one thing I didn’t forget.”
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Patrick Jones is the author of more than twenty novels for teens. He has also written two nonfiction books about combat sports, The Main Event, on professional wrestling, and Ultimate Fighting, on mixed martial arts. He has spoken to students at more than one hundred alternative schools, including residents of juvenile correctional facilities. Find him on the web at www.connectingya.com and on Twitter @PatrickJonesYA.
A magazine editor for ten years, Brent Chartier has written three books for young adults. His interest in concussions stems from his work with the Center for Neurological Studies, Dearborn, MI. He lives in a Detroit suburb with his son, Casey, and their two cats.