front of the net – a high, looping, crossing pass.
I should have seen the danger coming, but I was too excited with the tie game and the last minute of play and the ball coming down, and all of us elbowing and shoving in front of the Cougars’ net. Barry the goalie was getting ready to jump and grab the ball before it landed. I was standing only a few feet away, right in front of the net. I didn’t see how I was going to get the ball, though, because Gary was between me and the net, and he’s almost a foot taller than I am. I looked around for support. Miranda was still in the corner, hopping on one foot. Victor was on the ground – Mary had knocked him down. Nick hadn’t arrived yet. It was all up to me. I crouched down, ready to leap up at the precise moment the ball would hit – and then, with my rear end sticking way out, I remembered Prudence. Behind me.
Talk about being vulnerable. You know those Second-World-War movies in the North Atlantic? Well, at thatmoment I felt like a munitions ship with a U-boat on my tail, and then Prudence launched her torpedo. Wow. Her right boot, with all her strength behind it, hit me right in the…well, let’s say in the stern.
Explosion! Next thing I knew I was flying into the air –up, up and over Larry’s head – so that when the ball came down it hit me first.
–
No it hit me first.
Norbert has a point. It hit him first.
–
It hurt! I had to go to the back room for a cold cloth.
The ball bounced off Norbert and hit the inside of the goalpost and then, as Mr. Stern blew his whistle to end the game, it hit the back of the net.
3-2.
The intramural championship was ours. We’d get a team trophy and individual ribbons at the next school assembly. Nick and Victor were slapping me on the back. Miss Scathely was jumping up and down on the sidelines. And then, best of all but kind of embarrassing, Miranda hobbled over and kissed me in front of everybody.
–
No, she kissed
me.
My seat still hurt, but it was worth it.
The Cougars slouched away to lick their wounds…actually, to get some more gum before the bell rang. Lunch hour was almost over. Time to change. I was chilly and dirty, and a bit scared of what might happen after school.
Remember the first time you did something you knew was wrong: stayed out too late on purpose, looked at amovie or magazine you weren’t supposed to, used your milk money to buy candy, smoked a cigarette, or said a really bad word out loud? And then you held your breath, waiting for the sky to fall?
That’s how I felt. I’d insulted the Cougars…actually, Norbert had, but they didn’t know that. As far as they were concerned, I was guilty. I was the one they were going to obliterate.
The afternoon passed as in a dream. Miss Scathely handed out jellybeans to all the team members, and beamed whenever she looked at one of us.
Mr. Duschene, the math teacher, didn’t beam. He didn’t hand out jellybeans either. He handed out detentions.
“Express the number forty-eight in base six, Dingwall,” he said. I stared at him. Heaven knows what I was thinking about.
“Why would I want to do that, sir?” I asked. The class tittered.
Mr. Duschene frowned. “Because I asked you to, Dingwall,” he said.
Victor sits behind me in math. “A hundred and twenty,” he whispered. Victor’s good at math. His answer might well have been right. It sounded ridiculous, but then a lot of math does sound ridiculous. I didn’t understand about the different bases, and how ten is really just a placeholder, so that sometimes six is ten, and sometimes eight is ten, and sometimes twelve is ten.
“Would it help if I told you that thirty-six is a hundred, Dingwall?” Mr. Duschene said.
“Is it?”
“In this case – yes.”
I felt like Alice in Wonderland. “Then I’ll tell you, sir–it’s no good to me at all.”
“Come on, Dingwall. You don’t usually waste our time with smart answers. Do you understand that thirty-six is a
I should have seen the danger coming, but I was too excited with the tie game and the last minute of play and the ball coming down, and all of us elbowing and shoving in front of the Cougars’ net. Barry the goalie was getting ready to jump and grab the ball before it landed. I was standing only a few feet away, right in front of the net. I didn’t see how I was going to get the ball, though, because Gary was between me and the net, and he’s almost a foot taller than I am. I looked around for support. Miranda was still in the corner, hopping on one foot. Victor was on the ground – Mary had knocked him down. Nick hadn’t arrived yet. It was all up to me. I crouched down, ready to leap up at the precise moment the ball would hit – and then, with my rear end sticking way out, I remembered Prudence. Behind me.
Talk about being vulnerable. You know those Second-World-War movies in the North Atlantic? Well, at thatmoment I felt like a munitions ship with a U-boat on my tail, and then Prudence launched her torpedo. Wow. Her right boot, with all her strength behind it, hit me right in the…well, let’s say in the stern.
Explosion! Next thing I knew I was flying into the air –up, up and over Larry’s head – so that when the ball came down it hit me first.
–
No it hit me first.
Norbert has a point. It hit him first.
–
It hurt! I had to go to the back room for a cold cloth.
The ball bounced off Norbert and hit the inside of the goalpost and then, as Mr. Stern blew his whistle to end the game, it hit the back of the net.
3-2.
The intramural championship was ours. We’d get a team trophy and individual ribbons at the next school assembly. Nick and Victor were slapping me on the back. Miss Scathely was jumping up and down on the sidelines. And then, best of all but kind of embarrassing, Miranda hobbled over and kissed me in front of everybody.
–
No, she kissed
me.
My seat still hurt, but it was worth it.
The Cougars slouched away to lick their wounds…actually, to get some more gum before the bell rang. Lunch hour was almost over. Time to change. I was chilly and dirty, and a bit scared of what might happen after school.
Remember the first time you did something you knew was wrong: stayed out too late on purpose, looked at amovie or magazine you weren’t supposed to, used your milk money to buy candy, smoked a cigarette, or said a really bad word out loud? And then you held your breath, waiting for the sky to fall?
That’s how I felt. I’d insulted the Cougars…actually, Norbert had, but they didn’t know that. As far as they were concerned, I was guilty. I was the one they were going to obliterate.
The afternoon passed as in a dream. Miss Scathely handed out jellybeans to all the team members, and beamed whenever she looked at one of us.
Mr. Duschene, the math teacher, didn’t beam. He didn’t hand out jellybeans either. He handed out detentions.
“Express the number forty-eight in base six, Dingwall,” he said. I stared at him. Heaven knows what I was thinking about.
“Why would I want to do that, sir?” I asked. The class tittered.
Mr. Duschene frowned. “Because I asked you to, Dingwall,” he said.
Victor sits behind me in math. “A hundred and twenty,” he whispered. Victor’s good at math. His answer might well have been right. It sounded ridiculous, but then a lot of math does sound ridiculous. I didn’t understand about the different bases, and how ten is really just a placeholder, so that sometimes six is ten, and sometimes eight is ten, and sometimes twelve is ten.
“Would it help if I told you that thirty-six is a hundred, Dingwall?” Mr. Duschene said.
“Is it?”
“In this case – yes.”
I felt like Alice in Wonderland. “Then I’ll tell you, sir–it’s no good to me at all.”
“Come on, Dingwall. You don’t usually waste our time with smart answers. Do you understand that thirty-six is a
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