Lacrosse Firestorm Read Free Page B

happened?”
    “Your teammate pretty much tackled you, that’s what happened,” an unfamiliar voice answered.
    Garry turned to see a small, wiry boy on the sidelines. “Which teammate?” he asked.
    “The one your coach is heading to.”
    Garry looked to where the boy was pointing. “Michael. Of course.”
    The other boy was smirking at Garry. But the smirk vanished the moment Coach Hasbrouck appeared at his side, replaced by a
     look of concern.
    Garry stood up just as Coach Hasbrouck and Michael came over.
    “Wallis, you okay?” Michael asked in aworried tone — a tone Garry wasn’t buying for a minute.
    “Yeah, I’m fine, no thanks to you!” he fumed.
    Now Michael put on a hurt face. “You don’t think I hit you on purpose, do you?” He turned to Coach Hasbrouck. “I’m telling
     you, I tripped over something while I was chasing Wallis down the line.”
    Evan appeared at Michael’s side. “He did, Coach, I saw him!” He made a big show of shaking his head. “I think there must be
     a bump in the field, or maybe a gopher hole, or even a rock! Michael’s lucky he didn’t get hurt!”
    “Anyway,” Michael said, ignoring Evan, “no harm done, right, Wallis?”
    Garry gave him a long look. “Right, Donofrio,” he said at last.
    Just then, a man wearing a shirt with the team name THUNDER emblazoned acrossthe chest tapped Coach Hasbrouck on the shoulder. “You about through here? It’s my team’s turn on the field.”
    The coach sighed and nodded. “We’ll get out of your way. Have a good practice.”
    Garry headed to the sidelines to gather his belongings. The wiry boy who’d pointed out Michael drew alongside him.
    “Listen, I thought you should know that your teammate didn’t trip,” he said in a low voice. “He shoved you on purpose.”
    Garry kicked at the grass. He knew Michael had deliberately pushed him, but he’d hoped no one else did. He hated the fact
     that someone else — a member of the competition, no less! — had witnessed it. He felt his face turn red and yanked his sweatshirt
     on over his head to cover his embarrassment.
    “Um, you know you’re bleeding, right?” The kid pointed to Garry’s knee.
    Garry peered down and groaned. Sure enough, a gash there was oozing blood. “Figures,” he mumbled.
    “Here.” The boy dug around in his own equipment bag, pulled out a small first aid kit, and handed it to Garry. “Don’t ask,”
     he said at Garry’s look. “My mom makes me keep it in there.” He put out his hand. “I’m Scottie. Who are you?”
    Garry shook Scottie’s hand and told him his name. “I’m an attackman for the Rockets,” he added.
    Scottie grinned. “Guess I’ll have to be on the lookout for you. I play goalkeeper for the Thunder.” He looked over his shoulder.
     “My practice is starting. See you around, Garry.”
    “What should I do with this?” Garry held up the first aid kit.
    Scottie made a face. “Leave it on the bench. If I’m lucky, someone will take it!”
    Garry laughed as Scottie jogged onto the field. Then he peeled open the bandage, stuck it on his knee, and tucked the wrapper
     into his sweatshirt pocket.
    He seems like a nice kid. Wonder if he’s any good in goal?
    Curious, he watched the Thunder practice for a few minutes, long enough to see that Scottie wasn’t good — he was awesome.
    It’s going to be tough getting the ball past him!
Garry thought.

6
    H ey, Garry!”
    Garry turned to see Jeff waving to him. “Todd, Conor, and I are going to shower up and then play cards until dinner. Want
     to come?”
    Garry was about to say no. Then he remembered how lousy he’d felt the night before, when he’d sat alone in the cabin instead
     of doing fun stuff with the others. So he nodded, picked up his duffel bag, and followed Jeff. After quick showers, they played
     several games of rummy 500, crazy eights, and penny poker. Then the dinner bell rang.
    “At last!” Garry said. “I’m starving!”
    The hall was