Second-String Center Read Online Free PDF

should have smoked. Couldn’t make a shot. Couldn’t play defense. Fouled everybody who came near me.”
    “You weren’t that bad,” Dunk said. “You actually kept us in the game.”
    “Still should have won it. My fault.”
    Jared leaned against the bank’s brick wall, dropping his gym bag to the sidewalk. “You know where I was this afternoon instead of in school?” he asked, not looking at Dunk. “A lawyer’s office.”
    “Why?”
    Jared let out his breath, and his mouth fell into a deep frown. “So my parents and their lawyers could argue about where I’m supposed to live while they hack out their divorce. Supposedly they wanted my ‘input.’ ”
    Dunk was shocked. He knew kids whose parents were divorced, but he’d never been around anyone while it was happening. He’d never been to Jared’s house. He recognized Jared’s parents, but he couldn’t remember ever speaking to them. “So why are they splitting up?” he asked.
    “Who knows? They fight all the time lately.”
    “About what?”
    “I don’t know. Money. What we have for dinner. Who does the laundry. Everything, you know? Stuff that wouldn’t even matter if they weren’t always mad at each other.”
    Dunk thought about his own home. Just him and his parents, and they all got along well. “So what happened?” he asked. “At the lawyer’s?”
    “They decided to juggle me back and forth. Most days I’m still here; some days I’m with my dad. He took an apartment over in Hoboken. As long as my mom stays in Hudson City, I can keep going to school here, even if I spend some of my time at my dad’s.”
    “Lots of people go through that, I guess.”
    Jared shrugged. “I know. Doesn’t make it any easier.”
    “Sure.”
    “Imagine if I was living full-time in Hoboken?” Jared shook his head and gave a halfhearted smile. “I’d be playing against you guys.”
    “That wouldn’t be good.”
    “Tell me about it. . . . So for now my dad is supposed to pick me up after practice every Wednesday and bring me to Hoboken for the night, then drop me back here Thursday morning. And I’m there every Friday night and most weekends. At least until they work something out for good. If they can’t work it out, then a judge decides.”
    Jared looked away again and wiped his eye. “Don’t say nothing,” he said softly. “To Spencer and those guys, I mean. I’m not ready to talk about it.”
    “No problem. Does Coach know about this?”
    “Yeah.”
    They started walking again. They both lived down toward Jersey City, away from the busy downtown area of the Boulevard.
    “So why’d you tell me?” Dunk asked.
    “I don’t know. Everybody knows they can trust you.”
    “They do?”
    “Yeah.”
    Dunk had never heard that before. It made sense, but it felt good to hear it.
    “I feel for you,” he said, “but you know I can’t go easy on you in practice. That’d make me look bad.”
    Jared looked surprised. “I don’t want you to go easier. If anything, go harder. That’s my oasis out there on the court. You keep pounding me. I’ll keep pounding back.”
    “I plan to.”

6
    Payoff
    D unk’s parents were almost done eating when he got home from the game. There was a plate of fried ham on the table, macaroni and cheese, and a big dish of peas and corn.
    “We just couldn’t wait any longer,” Dad said. “The game ended over an hour ago.”
    “Yeah. We hung around some after.”
    “You played great,” Mom said. “You want to heat up that ham?”
    “Nah, I’m sure it’s fine. I’m not too hungry anyway.”
    Dad looked at his wife with an amused grin. “Not hungry, he says. Just wait—he’ll finish every scrap on the table.”
    Dunk stabbed at a piece of the ham and dumped some vegetables onto his plate. “We’ll see.”
    “You really did play well,” Dad said. “I was glad to see Coach put you in during crunch time at the end. Shows that he knows he can rely on you.”
    “That was nice,” Dunk said, chewing