Fast Break by Mike Lupica

glanced over his shoulder. He stood still, waiting.
    Mr. Lawton continued. “Perhaps it would be best if you went to your room for now.”
    Mrs. Lawton had gotten down on her hands and knees andwas picking up the broken pieces, staring at them as though remembering having made each one. Mr. Lawton brought a garbage bag from the kitchen and held it open for her, his expression more sad than angry.
    The ball was over at the foot of one of their bookcases. Jayson wanted to go get it. Wanted to turn back time and undo what had happened. Since he couldn’t do that, he just went up to his room.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    Later on in the night, Jayson sat on his bed, checking his phone for NBA scores just to have something to do, looking at some of the box scores, anything to take his mind off of the broken horse.
    Despite all that had happened, Mrs. Lawton came in to say good night.
    He put down the phone.
    Jayson looked Carol Lawton in the eyes. He’d had some time to think about what had happened, leaving him with a sick feeling. “I just want you to know that I know how I’d feel if you came in here and broke one of my trophies,” he said. “That horse was like a trophy to you, wasn’t it?”
    â€œI guess it was,” she said. “But I can make another.”
    â€œYou don’t have to be nice about it.”
    â€œI’m not trying to be nice,” she said. “I
can
make another. Somebody once told me not to miss anything that doesn’t miss you.” She sat on the end of his bed. “It was an accident, Jayson. Don’t try to make it out to be something more than it was.”
    â€œI’m the accident.”
    â€œNo, you’re not.”
    â€œYes, I am,” he said. “You’ve got about as much chance of fixing me as you do that horse.”
    â€œYou’re not broken,” Mrs. Lawton said. “You just need a chance to be whole. To be happy. To have a family. We want to give you that chance, Jayson.”
    â€œI proved all over again tonight that I don’t belong here.”
    â€œYou’re wrong about that, too.”
    Mrs. Lawton got up now, reached over, picked up his phone. “It’s late now,” she said. “You should try to get some sleep.”
    Maybe on another night he would have argued. Not tonight. He was too tired to start another fight.
    She put the phone on his desk and turned off the light. “We’re stuck with each other, Jayson. And I promise that I will give you your space. But if you ever do need me, I’ll be down the hall.”
    She closed the door behind her. All he wanted was to go to sleep and let the night come to an end.
    Only he didn’t sleep, couldn’t sleep, not for a long time. He kept picturing the horse in the air, right before it hit the floor, trying to understand how—after everything that had happened to him—it was somebody else’s trophy that finally made him cry.

15
    FIRST GAME OF THE SEASON , gym at Belmont Country Day, Saturday afternoon, the Bobcats against the Karsten Kings.
    First time in Jayson’s life that the opening game had felt like some sort of finish line he was about to cross, just because of everything he’d gone through to get to it. Coach had told him that he was proud of the way Jayson had made a big effort at practice to get along with his teammates and be part of the team. Told Jayson he’d earned his starting point guard role.
    Ten minutes before the game, Jayson went over to the home bench to take a swig out of his Gatorade bottle. It gave him a chance to look around. The Lawtons were in their seats up in the parents’ section and, even though she’d won the bet, Zoe was sitting with her friends one section over. His teammates were shooting around, and then they formed two lines to take practice layups, wearing their white jerseys and shorts with red trim. The Karsten Kings wore Carolina-blue jerseys