Chapters (41)
- Cover
- Dedication
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Also by Mike Lupica
“I can’t,” Lucas said. “You just heard Mr. C. tell me not to.”
“He doesn’t have to know,” Ryan said. “No one has to know.”
“I’d know,” Lucas said.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Ryan, who loved to eat, ate quickly at lunch the next day, telling Lucas and Maria that he had to get to the library and do some work.
“Ryan?” Maria said. “Ryan Moretti? Bolting from the cafeteria to do schoolwork?” She smiled at Lucas. It was one of those smiles that made it difficult for Lucas to focus on what she was saying. “Who was that?”
“Turned out Mr. C. gave him a little extra time to work on his paper,” Lucas said.
“I thought he passed his in along with the rest of us,” she said.
“He thought he was done,” Lucas said. “It just turned out he wasn’t done done.”
He quickly changed the subject back to basketball. Even when he was with Maria, basketball always made him feel as if he was on safe, and solid, ground.
“I can’t believe we only have one more game before Christmas,” he said. “And the way we’re playing, I’m worried that even taking one Saturday off will slow our roll.”
Maria giggled.
“Did you actually just say ‘slow our roll’?” she said.
“I heard Stephen Curry say it after a Thunder game the other night,” Lucas said, suddenly feeling sheepish. It happened a lot in her presence, even though being with her was another way of being on safe, solid ground.
“Stephen Curry is allowed to say it,” she said. “You are not.”
“Now you’re the one slowing my roll,” Lucas said.
She laughed. So did Lucas. It felt good. When they were walking back to class, it occurred to him that he hadn’t thought about Gramps once during lunch.
It still happened that way sometimes.
Just not very often.
The last game before Christmas was against the Jefferson Jazz at Claremont Middle.
Even Christmas felt different this year. He was still excited about it. He still loved this time of year. But it was different, the way a lot of things were.
Gramps still wasn’t having dinner with them. He never stopped by the house. He didn’t pick up Lucas for practice or drop him off after.
He was Lucas’s coach. He was the coach and Lucas was one of his players. That was their relationship, in the gym and at these games, which were starting to feel bigger and bigger as the Wolves kept winning.