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joke.”
    “I thought they kind of helped,” Kenny said, and I secretly thanked him.
    “I don’t think Nugget’s dad knows what he’s doing,” Colin said.
    I almost went back in there, but waited instead.
    “Let’s see how things go on Wednesday,” Patrick said. “This was only his first practice. How was he supposed to know our routine?”
    I smiled, thinking that was a cool thing to say. So, I had Patrick and Kenny on my side. That was good.
    “All I’m saying is I hope Coach is back soon,” Colin told them.
    The rest of the guys kind of agreed, but that was okay. We all wanted Coach back. And Dad didn’t want to
take over
the team, he was just helping out in a pinch.
    Luckily, I had some time to set him straight before the next practice.
    *   *   *
    School went okay for me, but just like every Monday, it felt long. I had a quiz in Science, which wasn’t too hard, but then I had Math class with Mr. Holloway.
    I’d almost lost my chance to play hockey because of my Math grades, but thanks to Eddie Bosko and lots of studying, I’d managed to save my season.
    The weird thing about Math was I’d thought once Eddie got me up to speed on the stuff that had been hard for me, I wouldn’t have any more problems. I thought I’d be able to keep up with everybody else and never have Math trouble again.
    But Mr. Holloway had moved onto new material.
    Statistics.
    At first I’d been all excited, because I thought he wastalking about the kind of statistics I loved. Sports statistics. And I was sure I’d ace the section.
    But he wasn’t talking about career goals or number of assists.
    Instead, I was stuck trying to understand medians, means and modes, which made no sense at all.
    When I sat in his class, I tried to concentrate and do my best, but always ended up wondering if Math was going to be just as hard or even harder for me all the way through school.
    I had a long way to go, and even with Bosko’s help, I worried that I wouldn’t make it.
    I glanced over my homework assignment as Carrie Tanaka walked from row to row, collecting papers for Mr. Holloway. When she came toward me, I saw her turn to smile at Bosko, but I couldn’t see if he smiled back.
    He had a huge crush on my sister, which was totally gross and weird, and I was hoping the fact that Carrie seemed to like him would make him forget about Wendy.
    The yuck factor of girls couldn’t even be measured.
    I handed Carrie my homework and waited for Mr. Holloway to get started, hoping my brain wasn’t about to get fried.
    *   *   *
    When I got home from school that afternoon, I had some of Mum’s awesome banana bread and milk, then dumped my backpack in my room. I wasn’t ready to do homework yet, since my brain was still sizzling from statistics, so I grabbed my stick and headed outside.
    Nothing cleared my head like hockey.
    There were wet leaves all over the ground, so I stuck a few of them to the side of the garage, to use as targets. OnceI found a tennis ball in the backyard, I got right to work, shooting at the leaves and waiting for Dad to get home.
    He and I really needed to talk.
    There was no way the guys would tolerate another practice without a scrimmage. No way.
    After a few minutes, I’d warmed up nicely, and my shots were deadly. I seriously couldn’t miss.
    When Wendy came home, she rolled her eyes at me and went inside without even saying hello. As usual.
    I kept shooting, even when she came outside again, holding the car keys.
    “Mum said I can take you to the mall.”
    I shot the ball again and knocked a leaf to the ground.
    Perfect hit!
    “Nugget,” she said.
    “I don’t want to go to the mall.”
    She sighed. “Why not?”
    “I’m practising.”
    “What for?” she asked, with her hands on her hips, starting to look mad. “You could hit those leaves in your sleep.”
    “Thank you.” It was nice of her to notice.
    “It wasn’t a
compliment
, weirdo. You’re totally obsessed.”
    “So?”
    “So, I