Football Nightmare Read Online Free Page B

while?”
    “Yeah, sure!” said Keith.
    “Hang on a minute and I’ll get the ball.”
    Keith sat and thought about what his dad had told him. Maybe, he thought, he’d been thinking too long and hard about that game. Maybe he ought to try to give it a rest … maybe …
    “Sorry it took me so long,” said Mr. Stedman as he returned with the football. “Ready?”
    Keith admitted to himself that he felt nervous as he walked into the yard. It would be the first time anyone would have thrown him a ball since … since that day last fall.
    His father threw a lazy, soft pass and Keith felt his whole body get tense as he reached for it … and bobbled it on his fingertips, before getting it under control and hanging on. He flipped the ball back to Mr. Stedman, who threw it back again, slightly harder and on a flatter line.
    After a few more catches and throws, Keith was feeling more at ease. His father waved at him to cut across the yard, then fired a bullet that Keith snared easily.
    “Nice! You know,” said Mr. Stedman, “you’re looking like you did last season. Really.”
    Keith smiled, but said, “Sure. When there’s no one looking and it doesn’t matter, I’m a superstar.”
    “Maybe you’d look this good even with a bunch of fans whooping and hollering in the bleachers,” said his father, cocking his arm to throw again. “Hi, Heck.”
    Keith turned to see Heck in the driveway, dismounting from his bike.
    “Hey, Mr. Stedman,” said the other boy. He looked at his friend and nodded casually. “Hey, Keith.”
    Mr. Stedman tossed another pass to his son, overthrowing it slightly and forcing Keith to lunge for the ball. Keith grabbed it and hung on.
    “Looking good,” Heck said, clapping. “Is it okay if I get in on this?”
    Keith hesitated. Mr. Stedman said nothing and kept his expression neutral. “Sure,” Keith said. “Why not?”
    He flipped the ball to Heck, who threw it to Keith’s father. Within a few minutes, the three were tossing the ball around just as they had done many times over the years. And Keith was surprised that it was normal and natural. A little later, Mr. Stedman excused himself and went inside, while the boys kept going.
    At one point, Heck’s throw to Keith was low and to one side. Without stopping to think, Keith dived and made a shoestring catch just before he hit the ground.
    He got up and brushed dirt off his pants. “Did you do that on purpose?” he demanded, staring hard at Heck.
    “No way! The ball just slipped. I’m a running back, not a quarterback, remember?” Heck looked convincing, Keith thought.
    “But,”
Heck added a moment later, “I have to say, you still have good hands, buddy.”
    Keith smiled. Heck was right about that.
    “Listen, if we went to the park, we could air it out more,” suggested Heck. “What do you say?”
    Keith liked the idea. “Let me just tell Dad where we’re going,” he said, running to the front door and calling his father.
    When Mr. Stedman appeared, Keith said, “We’re going to the park for a while.”
    “Fine. Have fun,” his father replied.
    Keith was turning to go when a thought struck him. He turned back. “Did you call Heck up and ask him to come over when you went to get the football?”
    Mr. Stedman grinned. “You caught me. Are you mad at me?”
    Keith tried to keep his face straight, but he couldn’t help smiling back. “Nope. Thanks.”
    “See you later,” said his father, patting Keith on the arm.
    As the boys biked to the park, Heck said, “Listen, about yesterday. … I shot off my mouth too much.”
    “That’s okay,” answered Keith. “I thought about what you said, and you probably had a point. Anyway, no hard feelings.”
    At the park, Keith and Heck threw longer passes and ran patterns. Keith had just made an over-the-shoulder catch running flat out when he heard someone call, “Awesome play!”
    He discovered Cody watching from the edge of the grass. “Hey!” Keith called. “Been there