Real by Carol Cujec;Peyton Goddard

Real by Carol Cujec;Peyton Goddard

Author:Carol Cujec;Peyton Goddard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shadow Mountain
Published: 2020-12-22T23:34:12+00:00


Slam Dunk

“How ’bout a strawberry shake for my star athlete?” Dad waltzed into the kitchen Saturday morning, his usual perky self. “You’ll need your energy for shooting hoops at the park.”

Hypothesis: Dad has lost his mind.

I stomped my foot as Mom sat down next to me with the keyboard.

What’s the point?

“Coach George called to apologize. He said he wants you on the team. As a player this time.”

But I cannot dribble. I cannot pass.

“Well, you can run, can’t you? You can block. And most important, you can shoot.”

He grabbed the ball and two water bottles and headed for the door.

Fact: Dad’s positive attitude gets annoying sometimes.

At the park, I saw kids on tricycles, kids playing in the sandbox, everywhere kids together. I bounced the ball in place.

Bounce, bounce, bounce.

I thought about all the years where my only playmate was dear old Dad.

Bounce, bounce, bounce.

Ever since he taught me to throw a nerf ball, he’s been my biggest cheerleader.

“Let’s practice a few free throws.” Dad pointed to the basket, and I threw.

“She shoots, she scores!” Dad yelled it every time I made a basket.

Passing was a different story though. A basketball is much bigger than a nerf ball.

Pass. Drop. Pass. Drop.

He throws it, she blows it!

A voice yelled from the sideline. “Try keeping your hands in position, Charity.”

“I see our assistant coach has arrived,” Dad said, wiping his forehead. I turned to see Mason standing there in black shorts and orange high-tops.

Mason nodded to Dad and came up to me. “Hey Chare. I meant to tell you the other day . . .” He looked down at the blacktop. “I’m real sorry about . . . you know . . . I was kind of a jerk to you before. I mean, Mom never told me anything and then seeing you again . . . felt like I didn’t know you anymore or you didn’t know me. Anyhow . . . I guess I was in shock.”

I wanted to tell him sorry too.

Sorry I whacked you in the nose.

I do not think he told anyone about that. Aunt Kiki would have said something to Mom about it for sure.

For the next ninety-two minutes, Mason and Dad took turns throwing me passes and teaching me to dribble. Sorry to say, my arms and legs still did not cooperate.

Felt good, though, to get another playdate with my cousin after all this time.

Wednesday after school, Dad took me to Hornets practice, and I realized he was right. I had to stick with the team to show I could fit in at Lincoln. To prove that kids like me could contribute and did not have to sit on the sidelines and watch other kids have a real life.

Dad helped me as I typed a short message to the team. I tapped one letter at a time while the girls looked confused and a little bored.

Dad pressed “play” on the iPad and an electronic voice spoke my words.

I am happy to be a Hornet. Thank you for including me.



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