CHAPTER 11

WHEN DAN AND I get to the park on Sunday, everyone’s there, including Chad. Why isn’t he with his friends? I wonder. Why’s he with us on the regular now?

Chad sees me and his face says the same thing I feel about him: Why’re you even here?

Then, from high up, Christopher calls and jokes to me, “Stephen Curry!”

I smile because it’s wavy being called that, and Christopher’s a’ight. Plus it’s dope he’s climbed to the top of the fence that cages in the handball court. He dangles a leg over like it’s dumb easy to be up there.

Chad dares me, “Bet you can’t climb it too.”

I eye the fence’s holes, so small that sneakers’ fronts barely fit in them. How’d Christopher climb this?

I’m about to ask Christopher when Chad hisses, “Don’t ask Christopher. He climbed it on his own when I dared him. You don’t need help either.”

Fine. I go for it and my fingers carry most of my weight, since my feet won’t grip. My fingers hurt-hurt, and halfway up, the pain makes me want to come down.

I look at Christopher waving me up. I look down at Chad smile-yelling, “If you can’t climb it, just come down!”

I can do what any of these guys can do, I think. I keep climbing.

Now my friends cheer me on.

Jeremiah: “Stephen, you got this!”

Jen: “You’re almost there!”

Dan: “C’mon, Miles Morales! Reach the top!”

I glance back down. When you’re two stories up with nothing to catch you, two stories feels like way more.

But now I’m amped to get to the top.

And Chad hates that. He jumps on the fence and starts shaking it.

Here’s the thing: My fingers have that feeling of carrying heavy plastic shopping bags by the handles for too long multiplied by a million. Now Chad’s climbing this fence, shaking it, and I’m losing my grip.

“Stop, Chad!” Jen yells. “You’re gonna make Stephen fall!”

Christopher reaches out to me from the top. “Stephen, give me your hand. I’ll pull you up.”

I grip my fingers into fence holes and pull myself up as hard as I can.

Christopher’s hand is now so close. “Stephen, a little more. Just a little.”

Right then—smack—our hands clasp, and with me climbing and him pulling, I make it to the top.

All of a sudden, Chad loses interest and jumps down.

Me and Christopher dangle one foot over. “Dan called you Miles. Spider-Man Miles?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you’re Miles, for real. This climb isn’t easy.”

“Don’t try gassing Stephen’s head up!” Chad jealous-shouts at us celebrating. “He’s no real climber.”

Dan’s annoyed voice checks Chad. “You’re talking? You didn’t even make it to the top.”

“’Cause I didn’t want to,” Chad replies. “It’s too easy a climb. And, Stephen, if you’re Miles, let’s all go to the factory. Show us how to climb that fence.”

I don’t want to go there, but Chad’s smirk annoys me. And it’s gonna feel good wiping the smirk off his face when I punk him by getting through the fence without even climbing it.

When I say, “Yeah. I’ll go,” Chad smiles big at me—the kind the Joker gives Batman.