not to say âshut upâ?â
âMy momâs dead.â Theo hadnât meant to say that. There was something about her that made him just blurt things out. Sheâd make a good cop.
She shrugged as if his mom dying was no big deal, as if heâd told her heâd stubbed his toe. âSo, what happened?â she asked. âYou go through some growth spurt over the summer and they dragged you onto the team? Youâre some kind of nerd and you saw this as a chance to have everyone see you differently? Win the big game, get the hot cheerleader?â
Theo sighed. There was no point in faking it with this girl. âPretty much.â
âNow you know, heightâs not the main thing in roundball. What you need is some sort of Karate Kid âMiyagi guru whoâll lay down all that wax-on-wax-off stuff. Only about basketball.â
âI suppose that would be you,â Theo said with a snort.
She laughed. âMe? No way, dude. I donât have the patience. And the poor dope who teaches you is going to need a lot of patience. But I know someone who might help.â
âFor a fee?â Theo said smugly.
âThatâs between you and him.â
A scam. He should have guessed.
âNo thanks. I already got a coach.â
She shrugged. âSuit yourself.â
Just then, a motorcycle revved loudly nearby. Her head jerked up at the sound. Theo noticed a shift in her expression. Not scared exactly, but something close. Like someone bracing to take a charge from a much bigger player.
The biker was parked on the jogging path, which had signs forbidding skates, skateboards, and bicycles. He was dressed all in black leather and wore a shiny black helmet with red flames on the side and a dark visor.
Theo couldnât see his face, but he seemed to be looking straight at the girl.
âDo you know him?â Theo asked.
But she was already walking up the slope to meet Motorcycle Guy. He whipped off his helmet. He looked like he was about eighteen, with crow-black hair and dark skin. Not as dark as Theoâs, but definitely surfer tan.
The biker immediately started talking to her in a foreign language Theo didnât understand. It seemed kind of Russian, the way he sounded like he was chewing tough meat while talking.
She answered in English with, âI donât care.â
The reply seemed to anger the biker even more. He stomped on the kickstand so the bike wouldnât fall, and jumped off with an athletic grace that Theo admired. He marched up to the girl, grabbed her by the shoulders, and hollered in her face, âThis is your last chance!â
She shook her head and hollered back, âLeave me alone!â
He shouted something in that foreign language.
She jerked free from his grip and said, âMind your own business.â
He slapped her across the face so hard she fell to the ground. Her basketball slipped from under her arm and rolled away. Theo wasnât sure what shocked him more, the sudden slap, or the fact that she went down. Heâd imagined her too tough to be knocked down by anything less than a truck.
The girlâTheo realized that he didnât know her nameâstood up, rubbed her face where sheâd been smacked, and kicked Motorcycle Guy hard in the shin. He groaned at the contact and hobbled back a few steps from the pain. He shouted some words in that foreign language and raised his hand high as if to slap her again, harder.
âHey!â Theo heard himself shout. Then he realized his feet were running up the slope toward Motorcycle Guy. He didnât remember telling his feet to do that. In fact, he wasnât at all happy about the direction they were heading. Because there was no way he could beat up Motorcycle Guy. Yet he was still running up that slope, still yelling things like âLeave her alone!â and holding up his cell phone: âIâve already called 911!â Actually, that would have