Me and Miranda Mullaly by Jake Gerhardt Page B

and think to themselves, ah, youth!
    Or, maybe we’ll be in a train station in Paris. We’ll carry all our belongings and guidebooks stuffed in our backpacks. And we’ll have a year together in Europe, getting lost on cobblestone streets, eating too much pastry, and learning new languages before we begin college. Secretly, I hope we’ll do the latter.
    Either way, I just can’t wait!

9
The Championship Game
CHOLLIE
    After I miss the two free throws at the end of the championship game today I’m just about sick to my stomach. But when I look around the locker room, no one else seems to care as much. In fact, Coach is the only one really upset about the game. I
feel
like crying, but Coach is
actually
crying. It’s really weird. And with Coach sobbing across from me, I feel worse because this is how he reacted after I fumbled the ball going in for a touchdown against Cedarbrook in the fall.
    I know I shouldn’t care, but I still feel bad about it because I feel responsible. I should’ve made those two shots at the end of the game.
    It’s just killing me inside. I have been waiting forever for this game. And not only do I want to win it for myself because Cedarbrook beats us in everything, but I also want to win it for Miranda.
    The gym is so crowded that the cheerleaders have to sit underneath the baskets because there isn’t any room on the bleachers. Can you believe that? It’s just like a college game.
    The first half isn’t too bad because the cheerleaders are on the end where we play defense so I can’t see them. But in the second half we’re shooting right where they are. I try to block it out of my head, I really do, but then I figure I’ll just play harder for Miranda. And it works. We hold the lead at the end of the third quarter. But then Sam Dolan misses a layup when he is all alone, and we have a couple of turnovers, and Cedarbrook crawls right back into the game.
    And here’s the part that makes me sick. We are down one point (one point!) and we have the ball. Coach calls a time-out and we’re standing around him, waiting for him to draw up the play. Then out of the corner of my eye, I see Miranda with the cheerleaders doing their final cheer for us and I take charge.
    â€œI can beat my man, Coach,” I say.
    Coach looks at me like he’s never seen me before. Helooks really stressed, like he can’t talk, so he nods and gives me the drawing board.
    So I get right to it.
    â€œOkay, now, we have eight seconds. I’ll take the inbounds pass and we’ll clear out the lane. Sam, you drive to the basket. If your guy comes up to stop me, you’ll be wide open underneath the basket.”
    The horn blows and we break the huddle.
    Everything happens so fast. I beat my guy and drive down the lane and Sam’s guy comes up to me but I can’t get the pass off to him. The next thing I know, I’m on the ground and the crowd’s cheering and the ref tells me I get two free throws.
    At the free throw line, I look straight down at my sneakers, because I know if I look up, I’ll see Miranda Mullaly. But I have to look up so I can see the basket. I do and there’s Miranda, her pom-poms under her chin, really interested in what will happen next. I know it’s stupid, but I just smile at Miranda. A big smile. A smile like I’ve already made the shots and we won the game.
    Then I go on and miss both free throws and we lose the game because of me.
    And that’s why Coach is crying in the locker room after the game.
    Last year I probably would’ve been crying along with Coach. And I do feel bad about losing. But I’m also happy because I get to see Miranda Mullaly tonight at the library so we can finish our report on the Brazilian tapir.
    I must be going crazy.

SAM
    Picture this. It’s the championship game and it’s the final seconds and I’m open under the basket. Can you picture it? I’m