Lacrosse Face-Off Read Free

arms
     hung over the back of the bench, making his round stomach appear even rounder. Garry looked away. “Let's just forget about
     Todd and get back to practice.”
    The team continued to do the cradling drill. Todd rejoined them after five minutes, still limping slightly. Twenty minutes
     later, the coach announced that practice was through for the day. Garry was tired, but his brother looked completely done
     in.
    And at home later that night, Todd fell asleep on the couch. Garry picked up the book his brother had been reading, marked
     the page for him, then tiptoed away.
    For the second time that day, he wondered if his brother would make it through the first week of practice. It seemed doubtful.
After
all,
he thought,
he almost didn't make it through the first day!
    Todd did make it through the week, but just barely. He always brought up the rear in the warm-up laps, collapsed after push-ups,
     and turned beet red with exertion when doing leg lifts. He was clearly the worst player on the team. The only person who regularly
     chose him for a drill partner was Jeff.
    Garry, meanwhile, found himself paired with Michael most often—much to Evan's chagrin, he noticed. In fact, Evan reminded
     Garry of a cartoon he'd seen once in which a small puppy followed a bulldog everywhere, doing everything the bulldog asked
     him to do, no matter how absurd the request. In Garry's mind, Evan was that puppy, willing and eager to do anything Michael
     asked of him.
    Well, Garry wasn't about to take Evan'splace as Michael's puppy, but he had to admit he liked working out with the best player on the team. Who wouldn't?
    Early in the week, Coach Hasbrouck had announced that the team would host a car wash that Saturday to raise money for their
     annual dues to the league. Michael had raised his hand and asked why they couldn't just ask their parents to pay the dues
     for them. Mr. Hasbrouck had replied that he preferred for the money to come from a team effort. “If we all work together,
     we'll have no problem earning what we need,” he'd said.
    After practice on Friday the coach reminded them to be in the school parking lot bright and early on Saturday morning. He
     asked everyone to bring a bucket and a rag or sponge. Jeff volunteered to make signs. Todd immediately said he'd help him.
     Soinstead of going home with Garry that night, Todd went with the Hasbroucks.
    As Garry watched his brother walk to the parking lot with Jeff and the coach, he felt a spark of jealousy. Todd had pulled
     out his stack of monster-and-magician cards and was showing them to Jeff. Jeff was nodding enthusiastically.
    Then Garry shrugged.
Jeff is probably just lonely, being new in town and all,
he told himself again as he climbed into his mother's car.
Or maybe Jeff feels sorry for Todd. I know I do, the way he lumbers around the field, trips over his feet, and misses practically
     every ball thrown to him. But what can you do? You can't make someone into a lacrosse player overnight!

4
    T he next morning was warm and sunny, perfect weather for a car wash. Garry changed out of his pajamas and into a bathing suit
     and T-shirt and headed down the stairs for breakfast. Todd was already at the table. Three trading cards were spread out in
     front of him.
    “New cards?” Garry asked.
    Todd nodded. “Jeff and I traded last night after we finished the signs. He's got a whole stack too.” He gathered up the cards,
     secured them with the rubber band, and glanced athis watch. “You better eat something quick, or we'll be late for the car wash.”
    Garry grabbed two doughnuts out of a box, crammed one into his mouth, chewed and swallowed, then ate the other one in two
     bites. He washed it all down with a glass of juice.
    “Ready!” he said, his mouth ringed with powdered sugar.
    Mrs. Wallis drove them to the school. They collected their buckets and sponges from the trunk and hurried to join their teammates.
     Jeff waved to them as they approached.
    “Don't