HERE’S THE DEAL
I’m not going to lie. I was shaking in my boxers. I started wondering who was going to take Junior on his walks while I was in the hospital. And what color my casts should be. All four of them—one for each arm and leg.
“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Miller yelled.
“Huh?” I said. I guess maybe my eyes were just a tiny bit squeezed shut.
“I said, are you always that fast?” he asked me.
“Uh, yeah,” I said, not sure if it was a trick question. “I’m always that fast.”
“ ’Cause Flip said you’re coming out for football.”
And I thought—Ohhhh. That was what this was about. Miller wanted to make sure I didn’t go anywhere near his precious team.
“Flip’s wrong,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’m not even thinking about going out for football. Seriously.”
Miller took a step forward—then another. He put his face right up to mine. (My feet still weren’t touching the ground, by the way. The goons still had me by the arms. I was 100 percent helpless, and about 80 percent going to wet my pants in a second.)
“Wrong answer,” Miller said.
“We need some speed on the field,” Tug told me. “And you just passed the first tryout.”
I was like—Huh???
“So now you’re going to convince Coach Shumsky to put you on the Falcons roster,” Miller said. “Or else.”
“Or else what?” I said.
Miller faked a punch then. And yes, I flinched like someone had just slammed on the brakes.
“Or else we go back to doing things the way we’ve been doing them,” Miller said, grinning like an evil jack-o’-lantern. “Except maybe a little bit worse.”
I think “worse” meant he was throwing Tug and Jeremy into the deal, but it didn’t matter. I got the drift either way.
“But if you’re on the team, we’ve got no problem,” Miller said.
In other words, I either played football or I took everything Miller (and Jeremy and Tug) could dish out, from now to the end of middle school—or until I was dead, whichever came first.
“So… you want me on the team?” I said.
“Wrong again,” Miller said. “You want you on the team. From now to the end of the season, football is your life. Got it?”
Just then, the gym door opened and Coach Shumsky came outside, along with a bunch of other players. I saw Flip, and he looked at me like he was as confused as I was.
At the same time, Tug and Jeremy let me down, and I hit the dirt like a sack of Rafe-potatoes.
“What’s going on out here?” Shumsky said. “Why aren’t you fellas warming up like I told you?”
“Khatchadorian wants on the team, Coach!” Tug said.
“And he can run like his life depends on it,” Miller said. Then he looked right at me. “Isn’t that right?”
I spent about one and a half seconds thinking about all my possible answers. And then I realized there was only one.
“That’s right, Coach,” I said. “Please, please, please, can I play for the Falcons?”