Cody took two dribbles to his right, until he was almost behind the basket, and then he put up a fifteen-foot rainbow while nearly brushing against the garage door. He held his follow-through with his right hand extended high in the air, like the best shooters in the NBA and college. Swish. He grinned, retrieved the ball, and fired a bounce pass to Jessica.

“No way you’ll make that shot,” he said. “You don’t have that kind of talent.”

Jessica snorted and waved dismissively. “Are you kidding?” she said, dribbling over to where Cody had let the ball fly. “I make this shot in my sleep.”

She took a deep breath and launched a jumper. The ball clanged noisily off the front of the rim and rolled into the hedge. They both looked at each other and laughed.

They were playing H-O-R-S-E in Jessica’s driveway, one day after the Orioles’ big win over the Tigers, and she was down to her last letter. One more miss and Cody would be the winner.

“This is where I excel,” Cody said, dribbling out to the top of the key. “Nailing down the win. Hitting the tough shot. Putting unbelievable pressure on my opponent.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “I know one thing,” she said. “You’re putting unbelievable pressure on your mouth with your lips flapping like that.”

Both of them were pretty good at trash talk. That was half the fun of the game, seeing if you could get under the other player’s skin or make them laugh to throw off their shot.

Cody dribbled between his legs and put up a seventeen-footer. Swish. Jessica groaned as she retrieved the ball.

“I can’t believe how lucky you are,” she said.

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Cody said. “It’s all about natural athletic ability. And an incredible laserlike focus. Not to mention a burning will to win.”

“Puh-leeze,” Jessica said, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes as she readied to shoot. “Now you’re making me nauseous.”

This time her shot bounced off the back of the rim and caromed into Mrs. Hoffman’s flower bed.

Cody shouted, “Yessss!” pumped his fist, and danced wildly around the driveway.

“Well,” Jessica said, shaking her head, “at least you’re a classy winner. At least you’re not rubbing it in.”

“It’s hard to be humble when you’re me,” Cody said, nodding and holding his arms aloft, as if acknowledging the roars of a crowd. “Someone who wants the ball in pressure situations. Someone with ice water in his veins.”

“There must be at least one sports cliché you haven’t used this afternoon,” Jessica said. “But I sure can’t think of it.”

“Admit it. The chunkster’s got game,” Cody said.

“You’re not the chunkster anymore,” Jessica said. “Looks like you lost a few pounds, Wisconsin Boy.”

Cody felt himself blush and hoped Jessica didn’t notice. They kept shooting baskets even after the game was over, enjoying the last of the warm afternoon sun. They talked about school and Cody’s baseball team and Jessica’s softball team and her karate lessons.

“Been meaning to ask,” Jessica said. “What’s going on with Dante? Is he still bothering you?”

Now Cody wore a pained look. “You had to bring him up, huh?” he said. “And here we were having such a good time.”

“Sorry,” Jessica said. “Guess the answer is yes.”

“Dante still wants to punch my lights out, if that’s what you mean,” Cody said. “He’s still as friendly as a crocodile.”

Quickly, he filled her in on the events of the previous day, including the older boy’s sarcastic comment about Cody’s mock interview with Willie and the semi-threat he had made after the Orioles win.

“I’m not afraid of him,” Cody said, plopping down on the Hoffman’s lawn. He glanced sheepishly at Jessica. “Okay, I’m a little afraid. Guess I have to stand up to him, though. Unless I hire you to be my security detail.”

“You can’t afford my rates,” Jessica said, spinning and delivering a kick to an imaginary foe. Then she grinned. “I start at five hundred bucks an hour. But since we’re friends, I’d cut you a break. Only four ninety-nine.”

“Gee, thanks,” Cody said. But even that little joke couldn’t cheer him up. “Why does he hate me so much, anyway?”

“Not sure,” Jessica said, sitting down next to him. “But he’s an angry kid. I hear he lives with his mom, who works all hours. His brothers are always pushing him around. All they do is skip school and hang out in the park bothering people. I’m surprised Dante still plays baseball—maybe it’s to get away from them.”

She pulled up a tuft of grass and idly tossed it in the air.

“My advice, Wisconsin Boy,” she continued, “is to just stay away from him. You don’t want to get into a fight with him. He’s bigger than you, he’s older than you…”

Her voice trailed off, then she shook her head emphatically. “I don’t think that would go too well for the Orioles’ newest relief pitcher,” she added. “Maybe Dante’ll get bored with you and start picking on someone else.”

It reminded Cody of the conversation he’d had at lunch earlier that day with Willie, Jordy, and Connor. Weeks ago, Cody had confided in them about the trouble he’d been having with Dante. But when he’d sat down with them today and told them he was tired of being bullied and was thinking of confronting Dante to make it stop, they had all looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“Dude, he’ll pound you like a bad piece of meat,” Jordy had said.

“Break you into little pieces,” Connor had added.

“Yeah,” Willie had said, “then break those little pieces into little pieces.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Cody had said glumly, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Plus, don’t forget the Rottweiler Twins,” Jordy had added. “Even if, by some miracle, you manage to get Dante to back down, he’ll sic his crazy brothers on you.”

But sitting here now with Jessica, as twilight descended and the first chirping of crickets could be heard, Cody had already made up his mind. It was time to stand up to the big guy.

“I have a plan.…” Cody said now. Jessica was sitting with her knees curled under her chin, rocking back and forth, and now she looked up.

“Actually, it’s something my dad thought up,” Cody continued. “And by the way? It’s designed to help me not get my butt whipped.”

He explained the plan to Jessica exactly as it had been explained to him, beginning with the three sentences his dad had scribbled on the napkin in the restaurant near Camden Yards.

When he was through, Jessica was silent. She sat there with her brow furrowed, looking off into the distance, as if considering all the ramifications of what Cody had just proposed.

Well, he thought, at least she’s not doubled over with laughter. At least she didn’t blurt out, “Wow, that might be the stupidest thing I ever heard!” That was encouraging—sort of.

Finally, Jessica nodded almost imperceptibly. “You know,” she said, “it just might work. In fact, seeing how Dante reacted when I kicked him with all the kids watching, I’d say it will work.”

Hearing this, Cody felt relieved. The two of them climbed to their feet and exchanged a fist bump.

“When will you try out this so-called plan?” Jessica asked.

“Tomorrow,” Cody said. “Right after school. I’ve put it off long enough.”