“You keep practicing that all week, until it’s second nature,” Mr. Jeter said as they came back to join the others. “It’s going to come, but it takes time and repetition.”

“What about me?” Derek asked. “What should I be concentrating on this week?”

“First of all, like I said, you need to be dribbling with your left hand and driving the lane from the left side, taking layups from the left. Second, you’ve got some nice deceptive moves, but you’ve got to make sure that, when you go up for the shot, you’re staying in balance—not falling back or forward or tilting to one side. That’s why your shot drifts sometimes. So make sure to plant your push-off foot firmly.”

Derek knew his father was right. He’d seen many of his shots hit the rim after drifting to the left. He would have to work on that this week—whenever he could find a minute.

“Okay, check this song out—it’s ‘Fresh.’ ”

“I’ll bet it is,” Derek said.

“No, that’s the name of it—‘Fresh.’ It’s by Kool and the Gang.” Vijay hit the play button, and the song began.

“It is cool,” Derek said, nodding his head to the beat as he imagined moves he could do along with it. He was lying on his bed, propped up by a bunch of pillows. He had zero energy left after his long, hot afternoon playing basketball in the sun.

After listening for a while, he said, “What else have you got?”

“I’ve already played you six different songs,” Vijay said. “I’ve only got one left.” Sighing, he switched to another. “This one’s called ‘Smalltown Boy.’ It’s by Bronski Beat—they’re British—and it was number one for three weeks in a row.”

Derek listened as the beat took hold. “Yeah, I like this groove—but I don’t know, Vij—we’re not exactly small-town boys. Kalamazoo is not a small town.”

“Well, okay, but it’s not New York or London or Mumbai either,” Vijay pointed out.

“We’ve got to at least come off slick, y’know? If we’re going to do the chicken dance and stuff, I don’t want people thinking we’re a couple of yokels or something.”

“I don’t get you, Derek,” Vijay said, taking out the CD. “You’ve got a problem with every song I brought. Are you in a bad mood or something?”

“I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep much last night.” That much was definitely true. But he didn’t mention that he’d also played basketball that afternoon.

“Well, tired or not, we’ve got to pick a song so we can start planning out our routine! So since you don’t like any of my music, what have you got in your collection?”