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That’s him right now with the ball! See? Number twenty-five? Let’s root for them.”
    “Go, green!” yelled Sammy, at the very moment that Justin tossed the ball in a high arc toward the basket.
    Swish!
The ball fell right through the net.
    Sammy jumped to his feet. “Yay, Justin!” he shouted.
    “Attaway, green!” yelled Dad.
    Noah pounded on the armrests of his wheelchair. His dad threw an arm around him and yelled, “Go, Justin!”
    Charles wanted to yell and clap and stomp hisfeet, but he couldn’t. He was still having a hard time concentrating on the game. Why? Because he knew he had to let Noah down. Soon he would have to tell Noah that he, Charles, was not going to be able to keep his promise. Honey was not going to be Noah’s service dog after all.
    Sure, Dee had said that she would try to think of a solution to the problem. But it was obvious that it was not going to work out. Charles and his family were going to have to find another home for Honey, and Noah was going to have to wait — and wait, and wait! — for a service dog of his own.
    Charles felt terrible. And it didn’t make him feel any better that Noah had introduced him to his dad as “Charles, the guy who’s going to get me my own service dog!”
    Noah’s dad had grinned and stuck out his hand for a shake. “We’ve missed having a dog in the family,” he said. “I hear this pup you’re caring for is a real good one. Can’t wait to meet her!” Thenhe and Noah had told Charles about some of the regular dogs they’d owned in the past. Obviously Noah’s family loved dogs and knew how to care for them. What was so different about a
service
dog? Why couldn’t Noah’s family take care of Honey?
    “Yeah!” Noah yelled now. He threw his fist into the air. “Did you see that play? That was an awesome steal!”
    Charles had not seen it. He was too busy trying to figure out how he was going to explain things to Noah. Charles was miserable.
    At halftime, there was a free-throw contest, open to all kids under the age of fourteen. “Want to try?” Noah asked.
    Sammy jumped right up. “I’m in!”
    Charles shook his head. “I think I’ll just hang out,” he said.
    Noah’s dad and Charles’s dad were talking about the game. Charles sat quietly and watched as Noah rolled his wheelchair out onto thecourt and started tossing a ball around with Sammy and Dakota, the girl Charles had met at the community center. Charles remembered Dakota’s service dog, Boomer, a happy black Lab. Noah had drawn some great pictures of Boomer.
    Just then, Charles felt a tap on his shoulder.
    “Hey, Charles!”
    It was Dee, with Harry standing next to her.
    “I didn’t know you guys were coming!” said Charles.
    “Are you kidding?” Harry asked. “We never miss a game. Dee plays in the women’s league. She’s awesome. You should see her shoot threes.”
    Dee blushed. “There are lots of good players on my team,” she said. “Anyway, listen! I have some news for you. I talked to my friend Mimi, who works for Best Friends, and I told her how much you want Honey to go to Noah.”
    “You did?” Charles asked. “What did she say?”
    “Well, she said I was right about the rules. . . .”Dee paused, smiling. “But she also said that sometimes there are creative ways to work around the rules.”
    Charles felt himself smiling. “Really?”
    “Since you know both of them, she wants you to write her a letter and tell her all about Noah and Honey and why they would be good for each other. Can you do that?” She handed Charles a slip of paper with Mimi’s e-mail address on it.
    Charles was nodding hard. Maybe things would work out all right after all! “I’ll do it as soon as I get home!” he promised.
    Dee held up one hand, fingers crossed. “Let’s hope for the best!”

CHAPTER NINE
    Noah came in third in the free-throw contest, and the green team won the game by just one point — but Charles hardly noticed. Instead of worrying about how