The League by Thatcher Heldring Page A

field.
    “Wait,” I said. “Where are you going?”
    “To the corner of It’s None of Your Business and Don’t Follow Me. Have you heard of it?”
    “Where am I supposed to go?”
    “Don’t know, don’t care,” Aaron replied. “But you might want to get those shorts cleaned.”
    I looked down and saw right away what Aaron meant. I had forgotten to change out of my nice shorts for golf!
    It was only a few minutes after twelve, which meant I had four hours to kill before I could show up at home without Mom or Dad asking questions. At least that left me with plenty of time to find some clean shorts. Taking the side streets in case Mom was doing errands in town, I rode my bike to the Laundromat on Verlot Street, where I changed into my football shorts and tossed the dirty ones into a washing machine, which cost all the money I had with me. I didn’t want to sit around in the Laundromat for an hour, so I went down the street to the library, where I checked out a book called
Golf for Everyone
. I spent the rest of the afternoon doing what I did best, studying. Only instead of equations, it was how to swing a golf club.
    Dad was in the garage when I coasted down the driveway. “There he is!” he said. “How was the first day of golf camp?”
    “Great,” I said, reciting what I had read in
Golf for Everyone
. “We worked on our grips. They alsotaught us how to shift our weight when we swing. We didn’t really get to do any putting, though.”
    “You will,” Dad said. “I promise.”
    I knew I wasn’t telling Dad the truth, but it didn’t feel like lying. It felt like telling him what he wanted to hear so he’d be happy. That made it easier for me.

    At the start of dinner, Aaron reached over me and grabbed a burger off the serving plate in the middle of the table.
    “What happened to your hand?” Mom asked him. “Did you hurt it volunteering?”
    “Um, yep,” Aaron said, looking at his hand.
    “How did that happen?” Mom looked concerned.
    “Well, this other volunteer was trying to lift the lid on the storage shed where all the tools are kept. I went over to help him and just as I stuck my hand in there, the lid slipped and landed on it. I can move it fine, so I know it’s not broken.” Aaron forced a smile. “You don’t have to sue or anything.”
    “El,” Dad said to Mom. “Did you sign any paperwork for this? There must have been an insurance waiver.”
    Mom shook her head. “Aaron, is there anything we need to sign?”
    “I’ll ask tomorrow,” Aaron said.
    “Does anyone want to know about my day?” Kate asked, waving her fork in the air.
    “Of course, sweetie,” said Mom. “How was your first day of golf camp?”
    “Really, really great,” said Kate. “My coach, her name is Terri, is so nice and she told me I was a natural, which I guess is true.”
    “Did you see Wyatt?” Mom asked.
    I held my breath, but Kate didn’t miss a beat. “Only once,” she said. “His group was walking from the putting green to the driving range, but he was too far away.”
    “Sounds like everyone’s summer is off to a great start,” said Dad, smiling. “I can’t wait to hear what happens tomorrow.”
    After one day split between the League of Pain and the Pilchuck Laundromat, I had to agree with Dad. This was going to be a summer to remember.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
    The next day I was back in the game. “Derek’s mom found his bloody clothes and signed him up for art camp,” José explained. “And Luther twisted his ankle. You ready to step up?”
    “Um, I guess so.”
    José put his face right into mine. “Man, there’s no ‘I guess so’ in this league. It’s either yes or no. So which is it? Are you ready to step up?”
    “Yes,” I said.
    José nodded. “That’s better.”
    On our first drive, we had the ball and were on the move, going no-huddle, which meant José was calling the plays from the line of scrimmage.
    He looked down at Aaron, who stood at one end of the line.