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have a study hall third period,” Norval replied, growing worried.
    â€œDon’t look so nervous,” Coach Green said with a smile. “I just want to talk to you about something. Not a big deal.”
    â€œOkay. I’ll see you later.”
    Despite the reassurance from Coach Green, Norval couldn’t stop wondering what the meeting would be about. Southside had lost its last game. Maybe Coach felt Norval hadn’t played his best. Would he want Norval to put in extra practice time? Could one of his teachers have complained about his grades? He hadn’t done well on his last chemistry test. But they wouldn’t pull him from the team for that, right?
    On the way to the coach’s office he passed Arnie in the hall. “Do you have any idea why Coach Green would want to talk to me today?” Norval asked.
    â€œMaybe one of the college scouts contacted him about you,” Arnie said. “It’s possible.”
    â€œThat would be cool,” Norval said, but he wasn’t convinced. Even though Coach Green’s tone had been casual, Norval sensed that the coach was concerned about something.
    Leaving Arnie, Norval continued on toward the coach’s office.
    â€œHey, man.” Kadeem thumped Norval’s shoulder as they passed in the hall. Norval grabbed Kadeem’s arm.
    â€œHey, Coach Green just said he wanted to talk to me about something. Like, in his office. You have any idea why?”
    â€œI don’t know, but he asked to see me, too,” Kadeem said.
    â€œAre you worried?” Norval asked.
    Kadeem shrugged. “Not yet. I’ll wait ’til I hear what he has to say.”
    Kadeem was right, Noval thought. Why worry until he had something to worry about? With a nod, he left Kadeem and kept walking over to the athletic department.
    Coach Green greeted him when Norval got to the office. “Have a seat, Norval.”
    â€œCoach, I can put in the extra practice time if you want, but I can’t do that and do the extra chemistry on top of it,” Norval said before the coach could say anything. “There’s just not enough time to—”
    â€œHold on, Norval,” Coach Green stopped him. “It’s not you I’m concerned about.”
    Relief flooded Norval. “It’s not?”
    â€œNo. It’s Arnie. You know him pretty well, don’t you? Have you noticed anything unusual about him lately?”
    Norval felt he needed to be careful how he answered. He didn’t want to say anything that would get Arnie in trouble. “What kind of unusual?” he asked the coach.
    â€œLack of focus?” Coach Green said. “Maybe fatigue, headache.”
    Norval ran through a mental list. Arnie had complained of headaches. And he definitely had not been himself at Kadeem’s get-together. He remembered, too, how Arnie had snapped at him after the game yesterday.
    â€œArnie isn’t drinking or drugging, if that’s what you’re asking,” Norval said.
    â€œIt’s not that,” Coach Green said. “I’m worried that Arnie has gotten hit in the head too often. I want to know if he’s showing symptoms of a concussion.”

N
    orval tried to recall what he knew about the word
concussion
. The only thing that came to mind was that it was what everyone got upset about when someone had a head injury.
    The year before, a player named Ty Hendrickson had been knocked unconscious on the field. Norval had visited the hospital along with Coach Gannon.
    A doctor had put Ty’s head in a machine to take a scan of his brain. Then the doctor had said that there was no bleeding in Ty’s brain —he was good to go. By the next game, Ty was up and running again.
    Ty no longer played running back because of some trouble he’d had with the police. It was too bad, since Ty had been a good player. Ty’s trouble had worked out well for Arnie, though. He took up Ty’s position