1
P arker!”
The twelve-year-old boy crouched down and stared straight ahead. A scrawny, freckle-faced heap of helmet, pads, muddy uniform,
and mean eyes glared back at him.
“Parker! You promised!” the voice from the sidelines roared again. “You said you’d take my bike to school for me! Where is
it?”
Parker Nolan tried to ignore his sister’s shouts and concentrate on warming up for football practice.
“Go!” he shouted.
Thud!
He had made his block. Caught off balance, Freddie Ferrone hit the ground. Twistingto the left, Parker curled around the fallen lineman.
The whistle blew, signaling the start of a scrimmage. Parker reached down to help his teammate to his feet.
“Got me,” said Freddie with a laugh. “Wait until next time!” He ran off to join the defensive team.
By now, Melissa Nolan was stomping across the field in a rage. “Where is it, Parker? The bus is gone now — I need my bike,”
shouted the angry fifth grader.
Parker took off his helmet and edged her toward the sideline. “Take it easy, Melissa.” He reached over and tried to give her
a hug.
“You didn’t fix it, did you?” wailed the young girl. “You promised you’d ride it to school after you fixed it! I trusted you.”
Her brown eyes started to fill up with tears. She plopped herself down on the grass at the edge of the field.
“I
did
fix it, but then … it got a flat tire,” Parker said, sitting down next to her. “It tookso long to fix that, I was really late. Luckily, I got a ride to school at the last minute.”
“You’re lying, Parker. Just like always. Now I have to walk home!” Melissa turned and stomped off toward the bleachers, wiping
her eyes.
The whistle blew again.
I’ll play Go Fish or War with her after supper, Parker decided. That’ll make it up to her.
Coach Sam Isaac didn’t have a lot of patience. “You planning to practice, Nolan? Or are you so good you don’t have to?”
Parker ran out to the offensive huddle at one end of the field. “What’s the play?” he asked Spike Newton, the quarterback.
The blue-eyed, sandy-haired Newton just shook his head at him. Some of the other players were laughing at him. They pointed
as if he were crazy.
“What’s the matter?” asked Parker, confused.
Morris Comer, the burly left guard said, “Do you always play without a helmet?”
“Yeah, I ought to give you the ball right now,” sneered Spike. “That’d knock some sense into you.”
Parker glanced over to the sideline. He remembered taking his helmet off when he was talking to Melissa. He must have left
it there. But now she was gone, and there was no helmet in sight. Where was it?
“I was just going to say something,” Parker blurted out. “Someone must have stolen it. There was this creep hanging out watching
us. He must have swiped it while my back was turned.”
“Yeah, tell us another,” snorted right tackle Darren Shultz.
“You guys never believe me,” Parker protested as Mitch Crum, the all-purpose substitute offensive back, barged his way into
the huddle.
“Hey, Parker, you missing something?” Mitch handed over a green-and-orange helmet with a white stripe.
“Where did you get my helmet? Did you find the creep who stole it?” Parker asked.
“Creep? Your sister threw it at the bench. She looked real mad,” said Mitch. He turned and ran back to the sidelines.
“Hey, Parker, is it true your nose gets bigger when you tell lies, like Pinocchio?” asked Huey Walker, the chunky, red-headed
center.
“Parker ought to have a real honker,” snorted Cris Muldoon, the wide receiver. The whole team doubled over, choking with laughter.
“What’s going on out there?” shouted Coach Isaac. “Are you guys going to play football or what?”
“Okay, guys,” said Spike. “Let’s see how good Parker is with his helmet on. We’ll go with Thirty-two Grind.”
Thirty-two Grind meant Spike would fake a quick pass, then hand the ball off to
P arker!”
The twelve-year-old boy crouched down and stared straight ahead. A scrawny, freckle-faced heap of helmet, pads, muddy uniform,
and mean eyes glared back at him.
“Parker! You promised!” the voice from the sidelines roared again. “You said you’d take my bike to school for me! Where is
it?”
Parker Nolan tried to ignore his sister’s shouts and concentrate on warming up for football practice.
“Go!” he shouted.
Thud!
He had made his block. Caught off balance, Freddie Ferrone hit the ground. Twistingto the left, Parker curled around the fallen lineman.
The whistle blew, signaling the start of a scrimmage. Parker reached down to help his teammate to his feet.
“Got me,” said Freddie with a laugh. “Wait until next time!” He ran off to join the defensive team.
By now, Melissa Nolan was stomping across the field in a rage. “Where is it, Parker? The bus is gone now — I need my bike,”
shouted the angry fifth grader.
Parker took off his helmet and edged her toward the sideline. “Take it easy, Melissa.” He reached over and tried to give her
a hug.
“You didn’t fix it, did you?” wailed the young girl. “You promised you’d ride it to school after you fixed it! I trusted you.”
Her brown eyes started to fill up with tears. She plopped herself down on the grass at the edge of the field.
“I
did
fix it, but then … it got a flat tire,” Parker said, sitting down next to her. “It tookso long to fix that, I was really late. Luckily, I got a ride to school at the last minute.”
“You’re lying, Parker. Just like always. Now I have to walk home!” Melissa turned and stomped off toward the bleachers, wiping
her eyes.
The whistle blew again.
I’ll play Go Fish or War with her after supper, Parker decided. That’ll make it up to her.
Coach Sam Isaac didn’t have a lot of patience. “You planning to practice, Nolan? Or are you so good you don’t have to?”
Parker ran out to the offensive huddle at one end of the field. “What’s the play?” he asked Spike Newton, the quarterback.
The blue-eyed, sandy-haired Newton just shook his head at him. Some of the other players were laughing at him. They pointed
as if he were crazy.
“What’s the matter?” asked Parker, confused.
Morris Comer, the burly left guard said, “Do you always play without a helmet?”
“Yeah, I ought to give you the ball right now,” sneered Spike. “That’d knock some sense into you.”
Parker glanced over to the sideline. He remembered taking his helmet off when he was talking to Melissa. He must have left
it there. But now she was gone, and there was no helmet in sight. Where was it?
“I was just going to say something,” Parker blurted out. “Someone must have stolen it. There was this creep hanging out watching
us. He must have swiped it while my back was turned.”
“Yeah, tell us another,” snorted right tackle Darren Shultz.
“You guys never believe me,” Parker protested as Mitch Crum, the all-purpose substitute offensive back, barged his way into
the huddle.
“Hey, Parker, you missing something?” Mitch handed over a green-and-orange helmet with a white stripe.
“Where did you get my helmet? Did you find the creep who stole it?” Parker asked.
“Creep? Your sister threw it at the bench. She looked real mad,” said Mitch. He turned and ran back to the sidelines.
“Hey, Parker, is it true your nose gets bigger when you tell lies, like Pinocchio?” asked Huey Walker, the chunky, red-headed
center.
“Parker ought to have a real honker,” snorted Cris Muldoon, the wide receiver. The whole team doubled over, choking with laughter.
“What’s going on out there?” shouted Coach Isaac. “Are you guys going to play football or what?”
“Okay, guys,” said Spike. “Let’s see how good Parker is with his helmet on. We’ll go with Thirty-two Grind.”
Thirty-two Grind meant Spike would fake a quick pass, then hand the ball off to
Similar Books
