A LITTLE HELP?

Whaddja think?” Flip said. “Was that awesome, or what?”

He smacked me on the back in the school parking lot, and it practically knocked me over. I was so wiped out. I already felt like one big rubber band from all that practice, but I didn’t say so. I just tried to keep walking in a straight line.

“It was definitely… something,” I said.

“So you’re getting into it now, huh? I knew it,” he said.

“Sure,” I said. “Let’s go with that.”

I didn’t tell him about the whole deal with Miller. It was too embarrassing. Plus, Flip still kind of thought he was the reason I joined the team.

“You want to stay over next Friday?” he said.

“Seriously?” I asked him. I’d never actually had a sleepover at anyone’s house before. I’d barely had a best friend before, unless you count Leo, who’s awesome but also, you know, imaginary.

“Sure,” Flip said. “We can do extra training. You know—agility and catching and stuff.”

That was his nice way of saying I was fast, but maybe not so good at everything else. Or anything else. Flip knew I needed extra practice. And now so did I.

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

“Bring Junior too,” he told me. “I’ve got an idea.”

“What kind of idea?” I said.

“You’ll see.”

“All right,” I said. “And, Flip? Thanks.”

“No sweat,” he said. But that was easy for him to say. Flip Savage was one part regular kid, one part machine.

As for me, I was pretty sure there was going to be sweat.

Lots and lots of sweat.