I was daydreaming about Sam when Coach Murphy asked me to stay after class.

She stood in front of her desk and fiddled with the whistle around her neck. “Look, Allie, I’m sorry about yesterday. Miss Holt’s mom fell and broke her hip. She was telling me about it when you walked in.”

“Oh, I knew it was something private. Sorry.” That solved half the mystery, but it didn’t explain why Sam had asked me not to talk about it. My reporter’s antenna went up. There was more to this story.

Coach reached into the jacket of her nylon tracksuit and handed me a folded piece of paper. “This is the quote you wanted. Go ahead and read it. Make sure it’s all right.”

I unfolded it and read: Sam Johnson is the most talented point guard I’ve coached in twenty years. Her big heart and outgoing personality make her a leader both on and off the basketball court.

“It’s great!”

Coach smiled. “My pleasure. Sam is really something special.”

I couldn’t have agreed more.

After school, I hurried home to the Smith Corona typewriter Mom had given me last Christmas. I put in a clean sheet of paper and started my article: “Sam Johnson—A Star On and Off the Court.” In my opening paragraph, I wrote about meeting Sam on my first day at DB. I admitted how nervous I’d been about eating lunch alone, but that Sam had introduced me to Webster. I told about watching her practice basketball, how she glided through the air scoring a layup. I dropped in the quote from Coach and added a couple paragraphs about the Pinto World Championship Horse Show. I even threw in how she had arm wrestled her dad at the dinner table. I ended the article this way: Whether on or off the court, Sam Johnson makes every day more interesting at Daniel Boone Middle School.

While I was proofreading and erasing my mistakes, the phone rang. I ran to the hall to answer it.

“Hey, it’s me,” Sam said. “What are you doing?”

“Working on a story about my favorite star athlete.”

“Good. I’m way more interesting than Johnny Tremain. He is one boring dude.”

“Promise you won’t laugh at me.”

“Cross my heart.”

“Yeah, but do you cross your heart and hope to die, stick a pin in your eye?”

“I do,” Sam said. “What’s the big confession?”

“I love Johnny Tremain. The way it takes you to another time and place.”

“I officially declare you the smartest person I know,” Sam said. “Except for Webb. He’s a brain too. Are you sure you want to be my friend?”

“I’m sure.”

Sam and I sat breathing into our phones. We didn’t have much in common, but it didn’t seem to matter. “Maybe I could tutor you in English.”

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Sam said. “You can tutor me in English, and I’ll teach you to ride Penelope.”

My heart slammed against my chest. I was afraid of Penelope, but I wanted to impress Sam. I’d have to trust her not to laugh at me or let me get hurt, and I’d have to hide it from Mom. “It has to be a secret. My mom wouldn’t like it. Not one bit.”

“I won’t tell her,” Sam said, “but won’t she notice when your clothes get dusty and you smell like a horse?”

If I wanted to be a normal kid again, I had to take some risks. “No problem. I’ll bring old clothes to change into and some perfume.” In my best Monty Hall imitation, I shouted, “Let’s make a deal!”

The next morning, I hurried to Miss Holt’s classroom for an early meeting with Webb. He’d brought Krispy Kreme doughnuts, which put me in an outstanding mood.

While I licked jelly off my fingers, Webb read through my article. When he got to the end, he put the second page down and started reading the first page again. “Webster, you’re driving me crazy. Do you like it or not?”

Webb pushed his glasses up. “It needs a little more depth. Highlight the coach/player relationship. You tell us how Coach Murphy feels about Sam, but how does Sam feel about her coach?”

He was right. I thought I’d turned in a perfect article. I’d even had Mom proofread so it wouldn’t have any mistakes. “I can fix it, Webb. Do you think I’m good enough to join your staff?”

“You don’t mind revising?”

“I wish it had been good enough the first time, but I know revision is part of the process.”

“Revision is the magic word!” Webster said. “Allie Drake, you’re hired. The pay is zero, the hours are long, but on the plus side you’ll get to work with a handsome devil like me.”

That Webster had a real sense of humor. “Doughnuts, Webb. I’ll work for jelly doughnuts.”