Locker 13 Read Free

stopped, but he still had dried blood caked under his nose.
    I rubbed my chest. “I … I think I broke a rib,” I whispered.
    With a wild shout, he slammed into me again. This time I flew back—and smashed into the thick wooden post that held up the backboard.
    â€œYou’re going to pay for those contacts, Champ,” he called, hulking over me so I couldn’t stand up, dribbling the ball inches from my feet.
    â€œYeah. Okay,” I said, trying to rub the pain from my chest. “I said I was sorry.”
    â€œYou’re gonna be more sorry,” he said. He bounced the ball hard against my bare leg. “Get up.”
    I didn’t move. “It was an accident,” I insisted. “I really didn’t see you bend down. Really.”
    He picked at the caked blood under his nose. “Get up. Let’s go. I’m supposed to teach you something.” He laughed really loud. I’m not sure why. Then he swept a huge hand back through his short white-blond hair and waited for me to stand up. So he could teach me more lessons.
    I climbed shakily to my feet. I felt so dizzy, I had to grab the wooden post. My head ached. My ribs ached.
    â€œCan we … uh … play a different game?” I asked weakly.
    â€œYeah. Sure,” he said. “Hey—think fast!”
    He was standing so close, and he heaved the ball so hard, it felt like a cannonball as it shot into my stomach.
    I stumbled back. And let out a sharp gasp.
    And then realized I couldn’t breathe.
    I struggled hard to suck in some air.
    No … no air … I … can’t … get … air….
    I saw bright yellow stars. The yellow darkened to red.
    Pain shot through my chest. The pain spread, growing sharper, sharper.
    I was down on my back now, staring up at the sky, staring up at the dancing red stars. I wanted to scream. But I had no air.
    Can’t breathe … can’t breathe at all….
    The stars faded away. The color faded from the sky.
    All black. All black now.
    And as I sank into the blackness, I heard a voice.
    A beautiful, soft voice from far, far away. Calling my name.
    An angel, I realized.
    Yes. Through the blackness, I heard an angel calling my name.
    And I knew that I had died.

 

    â€œLuke? Luke?”
    The blackness lifted. I blinked up at the afternoon sky. The voice was closer now. And I recognized it.
    â€œLuke?”
    My chest ached as I took a deep breath.
    Hey—when had I started to breathe again?
    I lifted my head and saw Hannah running across the basketball court. She wore a blue windbreaker, unzipped, and it flapped up over her shoulders like wings. Her red hair glowed in the late afternoon sun like a halo.
    Not an angel. Just Hannah.
    She turned angrily to Stretch as she ran past him. “What did you do to Luke— kill him?”
    Stretch giggled. “Probably.”
    Hannah dropped onto her knees beside me. Her windbreaker fell over my face. She tugged it away. “Are you alive? Can you speak?”
    â€œYeah. I’m okay,” I muttered. I felt like a jerk. A helpless jerk.
    Stretch walked up behind Hannah. “Who’s she?” he sneered at me. “Your girlfriend ?”
    Hannah spun around to face him. “Hey—I’ve seen your girlfriend!”
    Stretch’s mouth dropped open. “Huh? Who’s that?”
    â€œGodzilla!” Hannah declared.
    I tried to laugh, but it made my ribs hurt.
    The next thing I knew, Hannah was on her feet, shoving Stretch’s shoulders with both hands, forcing him to back up. “Ever hear of picking on someone your own size?” she demanded.
    Stretch laughed. “No. Tell me about it.” He backed away from her and raised his big, meaty fists. He grinned and started dancing like a fighter. “Come on. You want a piece of me? You want a piece of me?” Imitating someone in a movie, I guess.
    â€œOne on one,” Hannah challenged.
    Stretch