Chapter 1
Sitting on a bench in the Greenville Middle School locker room, Sarit leaned down and laced up her white basketball shoes. The locker room was full of girls getting ready for the first basketball practice of the new season. They were all laughing and chattering excitedly.
But Sarit was silent. She didn’t want to go out onto the court. Ever since her dad had moved across the country, she didn’t want to play at all.
Her twin sister, Allie, looked over at her. “Hey, it’s okay,” Allie said. “I know it’ll be hard to practice without Dad, but Coach Ritz seems really nice.”
Sarit didn’t reply. She didn’t understand why her sister wasn’t more upset. Their father had been the coach for their basketball team, the Cowboys, since they’d started playing in fourth grade.
But then last year their parents had divorced, and their dad had moved to the other side of the country for a new job.
Sarit had never played basketball without her father on the court. She wasn’t even sure she knew how to play without him there. Basketball practice was the time they’d always spent together. Now he was gone. Basketball was still there, but it no longer seemed like any fun.
“Come on, guys, Coach wants to start!” one of the players called. The other girls hurried out of the locker room. Sarit didn’t move.
“Aren’t you coming out?” Allie asked, looking worried.
Sarit nodded. “Just give me a minute, okay?” she said quietly. “I’ll be right there. Promise.”
“Okay,” Allie said slowly. “I’ll be on the court.” With one final, worried look at her sister, Allie followed the rest of the team out of the locker room.
Sarit stayed on the bench in the empty locker room after her sister left. Through the door, she could hear the new coach’s voice calling out instructions as the team ran drills. He sounded nice enough.
Sarit sighed and stood up. Maybe Allie’s right, she thought. Maybe I just need to give the new coach a chance.
The rest of the team was busy running a passing drill when Sarit walked into the gym. The girls were all breathing hard as they dribbled back and forth across the court.
At one end of the court, Coach Ritz stood, holding his clipboard and a whistle. “Let’s see some hustle out there, girls!” he yelled to the team. “Keep those balls under control!”
Dad never yelled at us, Sarit thought. But deep down she knew that wasn’t really true. Coach Ritz was just doing his job.
But it should still be Dad standing there, like always, she thought miserably.
Coach Ritz spotted her. “Hey, Sarit,” he called. “Find a place in line.” His voice was gentle. He knew about the situation with her dad.
Sarit nodded and slipped in line behind her sister. Allie smiled and handed her a basketball.
Fwweet! The coach blew his whistle loudly.
At the sound, the girls in the front of the line ran forward, dribbling the balls in front of them as they went. When they reached the end of the court, they spun and dribbled back.
Sarit stared down at the ball in her hands. She’d always loved the feel of holding a basketball. It felt right in her hands, like an old, familiar friend.
But today, the ball felt awkward, like it was too big somehow. She didn’t know what to do with it. Her hands were sweating, and her grip on the ball was slippery.
Sarit thought about what her dad had told her when they’d practiced dribbling on the driveway last year.
“The trick is to keep your eyes straight ahead and not think too much about your hands,” he’d told her. “Let your hands do the work, not your head.”
Fweet! The next line of players ran forward toward the end of the court. Allie ran ahead of the others, dribbling easily. She was always the fastest runner. Anna, the center, was close behind. Suddenly, Anna lost control of the ball. She had to break from the line to retrieve it.
Allie reached the end of the court first. Sarit watched her effortlessly reverse direction, backing up a few feet, while still keeping the basketball close to her and in play.
“Good work, Allie!” Coach Ritz yelled. “Everyone, keep the ball close! That’s the trick. As you back up, bring the ball with you.”
Sarit took a deep breath. Her line was next. Come on, she told herself. Allie’s playing fine. You can too. She gritted her teeth as the coach’s whistle blew one more time.