END RUN

Flash forward! Again!

It was game three of the Falcons’ season. We were playing the Sloatsburg Middle School Rams, and the score was 7–7, coming down to the end of the fourth quarter.

We knew we had to score soon if we were going to have any chance of winning. There was enough time for one turnaround, but that would just put the ball in Sloatsburg’s hands. It was all down to this.

“All right, let’s do it,” Coach said. “Highway Eleven, guys. Highway Eleven.”

We didn’t have a lot of audibles for plays, but everyone knew this one by now. We’d practiced it all week. Highway Eleven was the name for my special take-the-hand-off-and-run play.

Quinn had scored our first touchdown of the game, so nobody from Sloatsburg had even seen Highway Eleven yet. Which made it our secret weapon. Which kind of made me our secret weapon.

And that’s when I got my next, brand-new, really big, really good idea—right there, walking onto the field for the play. I never even saw it coming until the idea hit me all at once, like a strike of lightning to the brain.

Miller never saw it coming either.

“Hey, Miller,” I said. “You know that deal I asked you about before?”

“Huh?” he said.

I slowed down and kept my voice low. “You know. About Maya, Jonny, and Dee-Dee?”

“Not now,” Miller said.

“Yes. Now,” I said.

Then I stopped, knelt down, and started tying my shoe. Even though it didn’t need tying.

“What are you doing?” Miller said. “Get up.”

I kept my face down so only he could hear. “I score, and you leave my friends alone,” I told him.

“Let’s go, Khatchadorian!” Coach yelled. “Keep it moving.”

“Yeah, Khatchadorian,” Miller said, squinting at me like he had fists for eyeballs. “Keep it moving.”

“Do we have a deal?” I asked him. “Or do I get lost on the way to the end zone?”

My heart was banging around playing defensive tackle against my ribs, but I held my ground.

“Here’s your deal,” Miller said. “Run the play or die.”

“All riiiight,” I said, making it sound a lot like You’ll be sorrrry.

He didn’t even answer. But I could tell I had him feeling kind of nervous now. He wanted to win this game. Miller wanted to win every game, which was a definite advantage for me.

“You sure about this?” I said while we were still getting into position.

“Shut up, you guys,” Jeremy said. The ref handed Quinn the ball, and we all got ready for the snap.

“Hike…” Tug called.

“Positive?” I said, so Miller could hear me.