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dead quiet. Mom and Dad had tried to cheer Russ up before we left the Schnitz, but he kept shutting them down by either grunting, sighing, or shaking his head.
    We took the highway home and Russ waited until our exit before he finally said, “I choked.”
    â€œNo,” I said, chuckling. “You
puked
.”
    â€œOwen,” Dad warned from the front seat.
    â€œWhat? It was awesome!”
    â€œI don’t think—” Mom started to say, but I cut her off.
    â€œIt was the best revenge ever. I could tell that Peter kid from Beaumont was a total turd and when Russ nailed him, it was—”
    â€œAn accident,” Russ snapped. “I didn’t mean to do it.”
    â€œIt was still awesome,” I said, mostly to myself.
    Dad waited for the light and turned left. “I’m proud of you, Russ.”
    â€œCan we please not talk about it?” my brother begged.
    â€œWhat?” Mom asked, turning to look at him. “You did your best.”
    â€œAnd blew it,” Russ said.
    If “it” meant chunks, he was right about that. I had no idea chewed-up waffles would look so gross.
    â€œThere’s always next year,” Dad said.
    â€œPlease stop,” Russ said.
    â€œIt’s not that big a deal, Russ,” I told him.
    He turned to face me. “It’s like losing the NBA championship.”
    Ha! “Yeah, right. Don’t get too crazy, Russ.”
    â€œI’m serious!” he hissed at me. His nostrils were bulging out. “To me, this was
exactly
like losing an NBA championship.”
    â€œHoney,” Mom said.
    â€œEveryone at school is going to know about this.” He blinked hard a couple of times.
    Was he going to cry?
    I guess if I lost an NBA championship, I’d probably cry, too.
    I decided to cheer him up. “Okay, nobody at school evenknows Masters of the Mind exists, Russ. No one will know you blew it.”
    â€œOwen,” Dad warned again.
    â€œWhat?” I was trying to be positive!
    â€œI let everyone down,” Russ said. “I was supposed to be the team leader and I cracked under the pressure.”
    â€œIt’s not the end of the world,” Dad said.
    â€œIt’s the end of mine,” he said, then went silent again.
    I opened my mouth to speak, but Dad shot me a look in the rearview mirror, so I shut it.

    Russ was in a funk for days after state and nothing seemed to pull him out of it. He hung out in his room alone most of the time, and moped around the house for the rest. All of his nerdy friends tried to talk to him at school and Nitu even stopped by the house twice, but he was still down in the dumps.
    Of course, he kept studying like his life depended on it and he made it to Pioneer practices, but he just wasn’t the same.
    After a whole week had passed, it was my turn to set the table one night. Since Mom and I were alone, I told her how I felt: that Russ should be over the whole thing already.
    â€œThat competition was really important to him,” she said.
    â€œWell, lots of things have been important to
me
and I’ve had to get over them.”
    â€œIs that right?” She raised one eyebrow at me, like I was supposed to prove it.
    â€œYeah. I had to get over being outplayed by Dante Powers, getting benched when I knew I could make a difference in a bunch of games, and I even had to get over the Twinvaders when they joined the team.” And I was just getting started! “I had to get over Hoopst—” I stopped myself, realizing I had a golden opportunity right in front of me.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Mom asked.
    â€œNothing. I was just thinking,” I said, trying to buy some time while I came up with a plan. Something seriously genius was brewing and I only needed a second or two to pull it all together.
    She opened the oven to check on the chicken. “Thinking about what?”
    I waited until she’d closed the door again and turned