Tackle Without a Team Read Online Free PDF Page A

say on TV: It’s a real
strong
coincidence!”
    They arrived at the theater early, bought a bag of buttered popcorn each, and ate it while they waited for the movie to start.
    Scott couldn’t get Peg out of his thoughts. If anybody had the motive—and the guts—to stick a couple of joints in his duffel
     bag, it was she. But how could he prove it? She wouldn’t confess to it, and buddy-buddy Florence sure wouldn’t snitch on her,
     if she even knew about it.
    The movie started, but Scott might as well have stayed home. He couldn’t concentrate on this movie, either. He just kept thinking
     about Peg, about Coach Dresso catching him with the marijuana, and about his not telling his family.He felt lousy, angry, and guilty. He wished he could find a hole to crawl into. He’d stay there forever.
    He hardly said a word on the way home after the movie. Kear did all the talking. And, from his reaction, the movie must have
     been exciting.
Too bad I had other things on my mind
, Scott thought.
    The minute he stepped into the house, he knew something had happened while he was gone. The expression on his mother’s face
     was like writing on the wall.
    “No sense trying to hide that secret from us anymore, Scott,” she said firmly. “Your father and I know.”
    He stared at her, then tromped into the living room and sat down before he fainted. His head suddenly felt light.
    “Coach Dresso called,” his mother’s voice rang like a knell in his ears. “He’s coming over to pick up your uniform.”
    Scott tried to swallow the ache in his throat and asked, “He—he told you what happened?”
    “Yes.”
    His father came into the room. He looked mad enough to smack Scott. But he never had and never would. At least Scott hadn’t
     thought so—before now. “I couldn’t believe it, Scott,” Mr. Kramer said in a low tone. “Not after what happened to Eddie.”
    “I didn’t put those joints in there, Dad,” Scott insisted. “Somebody else did.”
    “Don’t lie to me!” Mr. Kramer suddenly snapped. “You know what I think of lying!”
    “I’m not lying, Dad,” Scott said evenly, the ache back in his throat again. “It’s the truth.”
    His mother came up beside his father, her hands clasped in front of her. “If you didn’t do it, who did? Who would?”
    “I—I don’t know,” he said.
    He couldn’t tell them he thought that Peg Moore might have done it. He could get in trouble accusing somebody he really wasn’t
     sure about.
    “If it wasn’t you, why didn’t you tell us about the whole thing in the first place?” his father said, his voice still angry.
    “I—I don’t know,” Scott answered. “I guess I didn’t want you to … to get hurt again.”
    “Hurt?” his father echoed. “Well, hiding the truth from us certainly didn’t help. Because you didn’t come to us right away,
     I don’t know whether to believe you. In any case, I think some kind of punishment is in order here. Maybe we should ground
     you for a couple of weeks.”
    “I think that being kicked off the team is punishment enough, Ed,” Mrs. Kramer said softly.
    Scott looked at her gratefully. His father might not believe him, but at least his mother seemed to.
    “I don’t know,” Mr. Kramer said again. “I just hope he’s not following in his brother’s footsteps.”
    “Oh, Ed,” Mrs. Kramer exclaimed, looking at him. “I’m sure he isn’t.”
    Scott’s heart pounded. He felt certain now that no matter what he said, his father wouldn’t believe him. Somehow he had to
     find the person who had put those cigarettes in his duffelbag. It was the only way he could redeem himself.
    It was shortly after supper when Coach Tom Dresso stopped at the house to pick up Scott’s uniform. Scott answered the door.
    “Just a minute,” Mrs. Kramer said as Scott started to head to his room to get it. “I’d like to talk to Mr. Dresso first.”
    “Oh, Ma,” Scott said.
    “Never mind oh Ma-ing me,” his mother said as