Football Double Threat Page 5

  Rocky hurried over to him. “Man, you really know how to handle that ball!”

  Jared relaxed. “Thanks. My dad used to work with me on that stuff.”

  “Used to?” The second the words were out, Rocky wished he could pull them back. It wasn’t any of his business why Jared’s dad had stopped playing soccer with him.

  Jared dropped the ball and nudged it with his toe. “My mom and dad got divorced two years ago and my dad moved away. I hardly ever see him now. Instead, I’m stuck with my stepdad.” He practically spat out that last word.

  “Oh. You don’t like him much, huh?”

  “What’s to like?” Jared eyed Rocky. “Would you want him as your stepfather?”

  Rocky blinked. “How should I know? I don’t even know who he is.”

  Jared gave the soccer ball another mighty kick. “Yeah, you do. You just don’t know it. No one is supposed to know.”

  Rocky was totally bewildered by now. “What is it that no one is supposed to know?”

  “That Coach Ward is my stepfather.”

  Rocky’s jaw dropped. “Get out of town!”

  Jared gave a short laugh. “Yeah, half of the time I can’t believe it either. But it’s true. He married my mom over the summer.”

  “Why isn’t anyone supposed to know you’re related?”

  Jared flared up at that. “We’re not related!”

  Then he took a deep breath and calmed down. “He’s worried the other Pythons will think he’s playing favorites if anyone found out. But that’s such a joke! I didn’t even want to be on his stupid team! No offense to the Pythons,” he added hurriedly.

  “Then why the heck did you join?” Rocky asked.

  “My mother thought it would be a good way for Coach Ward and me to get to know each other better.” Jared kicked at the grass. “But all it’s done is make my soccer friends mad. See, they don’t know about Coach Ward either. They think I ditched them to play football. Now they won’t even talk to me.” He gave Rocky a sidelong glance. “And until this week, the football guys wouldn’t talk to me either.”

  Rocky shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled at last. “So why didn’t you just tell your mom you wanted to stick with soccer?”

  Jared lifted a shoulder. “She laid down a major guilt trip on me. About how I wasn’t even trying to get along with the coach and how I was making it so difficult for us to be a happy family, blah blah blah. After that, it was hard to say no.” He sighed. “Anyone ever guilt trip you into doing something you didn’t really want to do?”

  “Me? Nah,” Rocky replied. “So, is that why you agreed to play safety too? To make your mom happy?”

  Jared snorted. “No, I agreed to play safety because I was bored out of my skull sitting on the bench waiting to kick the dumb football! Now at least I’ll get into the game more.”

  Rocky laughed. “A lot more, probably. You know, for someone who hasn’t been playing football for long, you’re pretty good at it. Better than me at safety, anyway.”

  Jared gave him a quick look. “You’d be good too if you ever made it to practice on time!”

  “Don’t remind me,” Rocky said, shaking his head. “I can still hear Coach Ward yelling at me.”

  “Why have you been late so much, anyway?” Jared asked.

  “Let’s see.” Rocky ticked off the reasons on his fingers. “Thursday, I had to help Bobby take down about a hundred handbills we weren’t supposed to have put up in the first place. The day before that, I sat in an empty room waiting for Bobby and other student council candidates to show up for a meeting that Bobby had told me started at two thirty, but really started at three. And Tuesday, I had to go collect a second bunch of rock samples because the first batch disappeared — even though I’m sure I put them in Bobby’s backpack!” He sighed. “And on top of all that, I still haven’t sold hardly any of my chocolate bars, although I did manage to unload Bobby’s for him.”

  He looked up then to see Jared staring at him curiously. “What?”

  “Nothing. It’s just . . . well, does Bobby always have you doing so much stuff for him?”

  16

  Rocky stared back at Jared. Then he looked away. “I guess I have been doing a lot of stuff for Bobby lately,” he mumbled. “But only because I broke his leg.”

  “Huh. When you say it like that, it sounds like you meant to break it.”

  “Of course I didn’t!” Rocky protested. “It was an accident. But it was still my fault. If I hadn’t tackled him, he wouldn’t have hit the bench and broken his leg.”

  Jared considered this for a long moment. “Okay, sure,” he said finally, “but go back one step more. Why did you tackle him?”

  “He took my music player even though I’d asked him to leave it alone. And he was making fun of me in front of you guys.”

  “So if he hadn’t done those things, you wouldn’t have tackled him, and —”

  “— and his leg wouldn’t be broken!” Rocky widened his eyes with understanding then. “Man, I never looked at it that way before! I guess it really wasn’t all my fault, was it?”

  “It was just a freak accident,” Jared agreed. “And the floor was wet, which it shouldn’t have been. You shouldn’t blame yourself — and Bobby shouldn’t blame you either. And he shouldn’t make you feel guilty for it.”

  “Bobby isn’t making me . . .”

  Rocky’s protest died on his lips because, suddenly, he wondered if Jared was right. He remembered too how angry Bobby had been when he thought Vincent was taking over his position and when he found out Jared was to learn it. He also remembered how relieved he’d been that Bobby hadn’t been angry with him too.

  But what if he had been angry? What if he was still angry? Would he take out his anger on Rocky by guilt-tripping him into doing him favors — favors that would keep him from the practice field?

  Rocky turned to Jared then and told him of his suspicions. As he did, he felt his temper start to rise. Bobby was supposed to be his best friend!

  Jared nodded slowly when Rocky was done. “There’s only one way to know for sure if you’re right. Ask him.”

  Rocky stuck his hands in his pockets and tightened them into fists. “Oh, I’m going to ask him, all right. And I’m going to tell him a thing or two too!”

  Rocky started to storm out of the park.

  “Hold up, Rocky!” Jared cried. “You and Bobby have been friends for a long time. So talk to him, don’t yell at him. Find out why he’s been acting the way he has. Then try to work it out between you.”

  Rocky rounded on him. “Is that what you did with your mom and Coach Ward?” he asked angrily. He regretted his words the instant they were out of his mouth. Jared was only trying to help him, after all.

  But Jared took it in stride. “No, I didn’t. I yelled and screamed and shouted. And look where it got me — nowhere!”

  Rocky’s anger waned. “Okay. I’ll talk and I’ll listen. But he better have some darned good reasons for treating me the way he has!”

  Rocky and Jared parted company then. Rocky took the long way home, past Bobby’s house. But when he knocked, no one answered.

  “I’ll find him at the game,” he decided as he walked to his own house.

  “There you are!” his father said when Rocky came into the kitchen. “I was about to send out a search party. You’d better get some breakfast. We have to leave for your game in half an hour.”

  17

  Two bowls of cereal and a glass of orange juice later, Rocky and his parents were on their way to the football field. It was a glorious morning for a game, sunny but not too bright, with a cool breeze wafting through the red-and-gold leaves of the trees.

  Rocky barely noticed the weather, however. He was too busy looking for Bobby. He didn’t see him. Then it was time for warmups and the game started soon after.

  The Rangers had won the toss so the Pythons were kicking off. As Jared jogged onto the field, someone called out, “Send it into the str
atosphere!”

  Jared raised his hand in acknowledgment. Then he readied himself for the kick.

  Fweet! The official blew his whistle. Jared ran forward and booted the ball high into the sky.

  The Rangers got under it and made the catch at their own forty-three-yard line. Their blockers cleared a path but the Pythons biggest lineman, Alan Dobbs, broke through and flattened the ball carrier with a dead-on tackle.

  There was a shuffle as players from both special teams left the field to make way for the incoming offense and defense. Jared, who was starting out in the safety spot, remained on the field. He danced from foot to foot as if he was nervous.

  He had every reason to be. Coach Royson had warned the Pythons that the Rangers were a top-notch defensive squad. It turned out their offense was nearly as strong. Their quarterback stood inches taller than most of the other players. He also had a rocket of a throw. With his extra height, he was able to send his powerful passes over the outstretched hands of most of the Pythons linemen and linebackers. That left the cornerbacks and the safeties to stop the play.

  Unfortunately, the Pythons secondary didn’t do that, not at first, anyway. The Rangers quickly marched down the gridiron with a series of short, sharp passes. Three of the passes were caught by the receiver Jared was supposed to be covering.

  Rocky felt bad for him. Jared had seemed to be playing so well — had told Rocky he was actually enjoying football now that he was playing safety. But today, he looked like the football newbie he really was. Rocky wondered how much longer Coach Ward would keep his stepson in the game.

  Not much longer, it turned out. “Rocky! Sub in for Jared!” the coach called.

  Rocky stuck in his mouth guard and headed out onto the field. Jared gave a curt nod when Rocky approached.

  “Jared! Come here a minute,” Coach Ward called then.

  For a split second, Rocky thought Jared would steer clear of his stepfather. But after a brief hesitation, Jared joined him at the sidelines. The two were in deep conversation when Rocky got into his stance.

  “Shut ’em down, shut ’em down,” he muttered to himself. “Quick feet, one eye on the ball, one eye on the receivers. Here we go!”

  The Rangers quarterback took the snap and faded back. He shoved the ball into the arms of one of his running backs.

  Or did he?

  Rocky recognized the fake in the same instant he saw the Rangers tight end barrel through the defense and look back for the pass.

  Oh, no you don’t! Rocky put on a burst of speed. The quarterback threw. Rocky reached the tight end just before the ball. He thrust out his hand to slap down the pass.

  Thwack! To his horror, his fingers didn’t hit the ball — they hit the tight end’s face mask and got caught in the grill!

  A whistle shrieked. A yellow flag sailed through the air next to him. All play stopped instantly.

  “Face mask!” the official called. “Five-yard penalty against the defense!”

  There was a collective groan and loud booing from the stands. Rocky wished he could tell the official that he hadn’t meant to grab the mask. But he knew it would be useless to argue the call. So he just trotted with the rest of his team to the new line of scrimmage.

  18

  Rocky’s penalty put the Rangers in good scoring position. They took full advantage of it too with an unexpected running play that found the tight end plunging over the end zone.

  Fweet! Touchdown!

  Rocky lined up for the extra-point attempt. The Rangers went for two — and got them with yet another short pass from their star quarterback.

  Rocky jogged off the field feeling completely miserable, knowing he was responsible for his team’s eight-point deficit. He vowed to turn things around when he took to the gridiron again on offense. In the meantime, he grabbed a cup of water and walked over to where Jared stood watching the return team set up for the Rangers kickoff.

  “I saw you talking with Coach Ward,” Rocky said in a low voice. “That go okay?”

  Jared nodded and took a drink from his own cup. “I talked to him before the game too,” he confided. “Him and my mom. I laid it all out for them — about how I’d felt guilttripped into playing football, how my soccer buddies were ignoring me, all that stuff.”

  “Wow. That took guts. Did they listen to what you were saying?”

  “For the most part, they did. Probably because this time, I wasn’t yelling. I told the coach that I was beginning to like football too, but that I liked soccer better.”

  “What did he say?”

  Jared grinned. “He said he heard about a new indoor soccer league that plays during the winter and that I should definitely sign up for a team! That’s when I told him he should coach it!” His grin faded then. “Did you talk to Bobby yet?”

  Rocky shook his head. “He wasn’t home. And I haven’t seen him here. Have you?”

  “Nope.” There was a loud cheer from the stands then. The Pythons had returned the ball for more than thirty yards.

  Jared nudged him. “Looks like you’re up, cowboy. Go get ’em!”

  Rocky ran onto the field and joined the huddle. Jeff, usually calm, cool, and collected, seemed excited. “Coach wants us to do the flea-flicker right away. Rasheed takes the handoff. Isaac, Rocky, you guys slant out and cut back in. Ready? Break!”

  Jeff’s excitement was contagious. Rocky sprinted to his spot and got into his stance with his heart in his mouth.

  Gonna make it happen! he told himself.

  Jeff barked out the signals. Joe snapped the ball. Lars charged forward to help block while Jeff danced back and handed the ball to Rasheed.

  The Rangers defense swarmed the running back, clearly expecting him to rush with the ball. But before they could reach him, Rasheed dished the ball back to Jeff.

  Rocky, meanwhile, was doing everything he could to get clear of his defender. He cut out, slanted in, ran straight, and spun back.

  Now the Rangers turned toward the Pythons quarterback. Their defensive tackle was only steps away when Jeff launched a long bomb in Rocky’s direction.

  Rocky did a mental fast-forward to picture where the ball would come down. He dashed to that spot at top speed. The cornerback shadowed him all the way. But at the last moment, Rocky threw himself horizontally through the air. Arms outstretched, he reached for the ball — and snared it at the Rangers thirty-six a split second before his chest hit the dirt!

  The officials signaled that the pass was complete and that the Pythons had made first down. The crowd roared. Rocky’s teammates thumped his shoulder pads and helmet. Then they huddled up to hear the next play. This time, it was a simple run up the middle by Lars.

  “Punch me a wide enough hole,” Lars growled, “and I’ll charge right on through it!”

  He was as good as his word — better even, for after blasting though the opening he strong-armed one tackle out of the way and dove beneath another for extra ground. In all, the play gained them six yards.

  Second down and four to go. Jeff called for a bootleg, with a fake to Rasheed. “Rocky, Isaac, go short this time. We just need four.”

  They didn’t get the four, however, because the Rangers blitzed and dropped Jeff for a loss of three.

  Third down and seven. Jeff no longer looked excited; he looked grim. “They’ll be looking for the long bomb again,” he said. “And that’s what we’ll do — but the pass won’t come from me. Rasheed, you feel up to throwing?”

  “Bring it on,” Rasheed replied.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Halfback pass. Receivers, get into that end zone and give him a target. Break!”

  19

  Adrenaline rushed through Rocky’s veins as he got into his stance. His leg muscles tightened with anticipation. Steady, steady, he said to himself as Jeff called the play, a-a-and . . . NOW!

  At the snap, Rocky shot forward like an arrow from a bow. Jeff flicked the ball to Rasheed. Rocky darted into the end zone and hooked out toward the flags. Rasheed pump-fak
ed the ball in a perfect imitation of Jeff.

  When he threw, however, the ball wobbled instead of spiraled. But the throw had height and distance and when the ball came down it landed smack in Isaac’s waiting hands and stuck there. Touchdown!

  “Beautiful!” Rocky crowed. He didn’t care that he hadn’t made the catch. He was just happy the Pythons had scored. So were his teammates. On the extra-point attempt, they rode their momentum into the end zone for two more on the scoreboard. The game was now tied 8 to 8.

  Rocky ran off the field, high-fiving Jared who was running on for the kickoff. The Rangers returned it for twenty yards and the Pythons defense took to the field. As before, Jared stayed in at safety.

  Rocky went to the cooler to fill his bottle with water.

  “So, the coach is playing the newbie in my spot, huh?” Rocky looked up to see Bobby crutching his way toward the bench. “What’s the matter, Rock Star, aren’t you good enough to play it?”

  Rocky’s temper flared then. “Maybe I would be good enough,” he spat, “if you’d let me get to practice on time this week!”

  Bobby jerked back as if Rocky had taken a swing at him. Suddenly off balance, he started to fall. Rocky caught him by the arm to steady him and then let go.

  Bobby sank down on the bench, rubbed his arm, and gave Rocky an injured look. “My leg, ow, my arm, I think you —”

  Rocky cut him off. “Save it, Bobby. I’m through letting you make me feel guilty. In fact, maybe it’s your turn to feel guilty — guilty for keeping me from learning your position!”

  Bobby blinked. “What’re you talking about? I didn’t —”

  “The chocolate bars? The student council stuff? And what about my rock collection, Bobby? Did you get rid of my bag of rocks just so I’d be late to practice that day too?”

  Rocky hadn’t really believed Bobby had done anything with his rock collection. But then he saw a look of shame cross Bobby’s face — and he knew he’d hit on the truth. All the anger went out of him then, replaced instead with hurt. He slumped down on the bench.