فصل 12

Monster Blood 2 - Chapter 12

When Evan opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at about twenty guys and Mr. Murphy.

He was stretched out fiat on his back on the gym floor. His face still hurt. A lot.

He reached a hand up and touched his nose. To his dismay, it felt like a wilted leaf of lettuce.

“You okay, Evan?” Mr. Murphy asked quietly. As the teacher leaned over Evan, the whistle that was on a string around his neck bumped against Evan’s chest.

“Did my face explode?” Evan asked weakly.

Some of the guys snickered. Mr. Murphy glowered at them angrily. Then he turned back to Evan. “Conan hit you in the face with the basketball,” he reported.

“He’s got bad reflexes, Coach,” Evan heard Conan say from somewhere above him. “He should’ve caught the ball. I really thought he’d catch it. But he’s got bad reflexes.” “I saw the whole thing,” Conan’s friend, a huge hulk of a kid named Biggie Malick, chimed in. “It wasn’t Conan’s fault. Evan should’ve caught the ball. It was a perfect pass.” Perfect, Evan thought with a sigh. He touched his nose again. This time, it felt like a lump of mashed potatoes. At least it isn’t broken, he thought glumly.

Evan’s basketball tryout went downhill from there.

Mr. Murphy helped him to his feet. “You sure you want to try out?” he asked.

Thanks for the support, Evan thought bitterly.

“I think I can make the team,” he said.

But Conan, Biggie, and the other guys had other ideas.

During the ball-handling tryout, Evan confidently began dribbling across the floor. Halfway to the basket, Biggie bumped him hard—and Conan stole the ball away.

They blocked Evan’s shots. They stole his passes.

They bumped him every time he moved, sending him sprawling to the hardwood floor again and again.

A fast pass from Conan caught Evan in the mouth.

“Oops! Sorry!” Conan yelled.

Biggie laughed like a hyena.

“Defense! I want to see defense!” Mr. Murphy shouted from the sidelines.

Evan lowered himself into a defensive stance. As Conan dribbled the ball toward him, Evan prepared to defend the basket.

Conan drove closer. Closer.

Evan raised both hands to block Conan’s shot.

But to Evan’s surprise, Conan let the ball bounce away. In one swift motion, he grabbed Evan by the waist, leaped high in the air, and stuffed Evan into the basket.

“Three points!” Conan shouted in triumph.

Biggie and the other guys rushed to congratulate Conan, laughing and cheering.

Mr. Murphy had to get a stepladder to help Evan down.

His hand on Evan’s shoulder, the teacher led him to the side. “You’re just not tall enough, Evan,” he said, rubbing his pink chins. “Don’t take it personally. Maybe you’ll grow. But for now, you’re just not tall enough.” Evan didn’t say a word. He lowered his head and sadly slumped out of the gym.

Conan came running up to him at the door. “Hey, Evan, no hard feelings,” he said. He stuck out his big, sweaty hand. “Shake.” Evan held up his hand to show Andy. “It looks like a wilted petunia,” she said. “I can’t believe I fell for Conan’s stupid handshake trick twice!” Evan wailed. It was the next afternoon. Evan and Andy had walked from school to the small park near their houses. Evan had complained about Mr. Murphy and Conan and the other basketball players the whole way.

The late afternoon sun beamed down on them as they walked. Andy stopped to watch two monarch butterflies, their black-and-gold wings fluttering majestically as they hovered over a patch of blue and yellow wildflowers along the creekbed.

Even the trickling brown creek looked pretty on this bright day. Tiny white gnats sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight over the shimmering water.

Evan kicked at a fallen tree branch. Everything looked dark to him today.

Dark and ugly.

“It just wasn’t fair,” he grumbled, kicking the branch again. “It wasn’t a fair tryout. Mr. Murphy should have given me a better chance.” Andy tsk-tsked, her eyes on the sparkling creek.

“Someone should teach Mr. Murphy a lesson,” Evan said. “I wish I could think of some way of paying him back. I really do.” Andy turned to him. A devilish grin crossed her face. “I have a plan,” she said softly. “A really neat plan.” “What is it?” Evan demanded.