CHAPTER 4

JOSH HOOD KNOCKED DOWN a three-point jump shot and then another. One of his teammates passed him balls as he launched shot after shot, making almost all of them. His concentration wasn’t broken until he heard a slow clap echoing in the gym. He stopped and turned to see a couple of unfamiliar faces.

“Can I help you?” Josh asked.

“Only if you’re Josh Hood,” the man replied.

“In the flesh, mister. Who are you?”

“Cal Murphy, sports writer for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. And this is my wife, Kelly. She’s a photographer.”

Josh dropped his ball and shook their hands. “What brings you to Millersville?”

“Just working on a little story about high school basketball and wanted to interview the best player in the Bluegrass State,” Cal said.

“Did you clear this with my coach?”

Cal jotted some notes on his pad and paper. “Of course. Is this a bad time? I can come back later.”

“No, it’s fine. Have a seat.”

They settled onto the bleachers. “My wife is going to take a few pictures while we talk. Is that okay with you?”

Josh nodded. “Sure. I always like to get my mug in the paper.”

Cal smiled. “So, tell me how you became the best high school basketball player in Kentucky.”

He put on his best show of false humility. “I’m not sure I am the best.”

“That ring you’re wearing certainly says something like that.”

Josh twisted the gold band on his right ring finger. “Oh, this? I was voted the best last year, but I wear this to remind me that I have to keep working hard if I’m gonna be the best again.”

Cal scribbled down a few notes. “I hear you have a fierce work ethic. Where did that come from?”

Josh snickered. “Funny story. When I was in the fourth grade, I was only getting the minimum playing time on my local rec team. My coach worked for my step-dad, so I told my step-dad to fire him if the coach didn’t play me more. My step-dad told me that wasn’t how we did things and that if I wanted to play more then I had to earn it. So, I started practicing every day after school for at least an hour. Eventually it grew into two hours a night and sometimes three in the summer. I even started skipping my chores to shoot hoops. That didn’t go over well with my mom, who said I couldn’t practice until I finished my chores and homework. You wouldn’t believe how fast I can fold a basket of laundry.”

“Is your father still in the picture?”

“Let’s not talk about that. I’d rather focus on basketball than the intimate details of my personal life.”

Cal flipped through his notebook and landed on another page of questions. “You’ve received offers from all the top basketball college programs across the country—Notre Dame, Duke, Stanford, Kentucky, Connecticut, Georgetown, Syracuse—the list goes on. Have you narrowed that list down at all?”

Josh shook his head and leaned back on the bleachers. “There’s only one offer that matters to me—the only offer that every kid in this state ever cares about.”

“So, is it safe to say you’ve made up your mind that you’re going to sign a scholarship to play at Kentucky then?”

“Nothing’s for sure yet, but they are the odds-on favorite at this point. I’ll be shocked if I’m not gracing the floor at Rupp Arena this time next year.”

Kelly’s camera whirred as she clicked off pictures of Josh with various facial expressions.

Cal made a few more notes and continued his questioning. “People have accused you and the team of being a bunch of partiers. Does that bother you at all?”

Grinning, Josh shook his head. “We have a lot more to celebrate than most people, so we’re practically celebrating all the time. If people criticize us about that, I don’t hear about it. But I’d challenge them, that’s for sure. I’d dare them to party less if they were as successful as us.”

“There are some people who think it was your partying habits that played a role in the death of another one of your classmates last year. How do you respond to those people?”

With narrowing eyes, Josh stopped and glared at Cal. “How do I respond to those people—or is that your way of hiding behind a tough question?”

Cal cocked his head. “I don’t have a problem asking tough questions, kid. My next one is about Emily Palmer.”

Josh stood up and kicked the bleachers. “We’re done here. Get outta my gym!”

He heard Kelly’s camera working overtime to capture the emotional outburst. He ran toward her with his hands protecting his face.

“Enough with the pictures, lady! We’re done. Got it?”

Kelly jammed her camera into her bag and followed Cal, who hustled across the gym floor toward the far exit.

“And stay out!” Josh yelled.