Snowboard Showdown Read Free

do
your
job? You're supposed to be the father around here. Why don't you start acting like one?”
    “Dondi–”
    “No, I want to know. Why don't you go get a job so Mami can be home more? She wouldn't let Freddie get away with everything
     the way you do!”
    Without another look at either Freddie or his father, Dondi stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

3
    I don't know what it is,” Freddie said to his best friend, Eric Schwartz, as he pushed Eric's wheelchair down the school hallway
     toward the cafeteria. Eric was perfectly capable of wheeling his own chair. But the school hallways were narrow, and since
     they had to walk single file anyway, Freddie had slung his book bag over his shoulders and offered to push.
    “Why does he always have to start with me?” Freddie wondered aloud.
    “I know what it is,” Eric replied, looking back over his shoulder. “He's jealous of you.”
    “Jealous? Are you kidding me? Why should he be jealous?”
    “Because you're a better athlete than he is—isn't it obvious?” Eric was always saying that everythingwas obvious. Maybe to him it was, with his straight-A average. But to Freddie, Dondi's behavior was one big mystery.
    “You think so? He's faster than me in track.”
    “Yeah, but that's only because his legs are longer. A couple years from now, you'll beat him at that, too.”
    “Hmm.” Freddie smiled at the thought of it. He knew that sooner or later, he was going to start growing in leaps and bounds.
     He'd been two inches longer at birth than Dondi, and the doctors were always telling his mom that Freddie would be taller
     as a grown-up. But for now, it was really irritating to be the smaller, skinnier brother.
    “I'll tell you one thing,” Freddie said as they entered the noisy cafeteria, “I'm never going snow-boarding with him again.
     He always wants to play Pig, but when I beat him, it always makes him mad. What's the point?”
    Eric heaved a sigh. “I wish I could go snowboarding with you,” he said.
    Freddie pushed Eric toward the tables, looking for a place to sit. “Yeah. I wish you could too.”
    Eric had been in a wheelchair ever since a car hadhit him when he was six. He made the best of it, though. No one could say that Eric Schwartz wasted time feeling sorry for
     himself, Freddie reflected with pride. Eric was proof positive that you didn't have to dance or play sports or even walk to
     be popular. He had been elected president of the seventh-grade student council that September, by a huge margin. Freddie couldn't
     think of a single person who didn't like Eric—even Dondi.
    “Hi, Freddie,” came a girl's voice from one of the tables as they passed. “Hi, Eric.”
    Freddie didn't need to turn to find out whose voice it was—it was Clarissa Logan's. Freddie had had a major crush on her ever
     since sixth grade when she'd suddenly grown from a skinny little kid to a willowy, beautiful girl with dark, wavy hair and
     long lashes shading big green eyes.
    Freddie had a hard time not staring at her whenever they were in the same room together. He'd actually joined chorus because
     he knew she'd be in it. A couple of times, the music teacher had singled him out for not paying attention. Worse, Clarissa
     had even caught him staring once. He'd looked away immediately, but he knew she'd seen him.From the corner of his eye, he caught her cover her mouth to stifle a giggle. Freddie wasn't sure if she was laughing at him
     or because she liked him. But he felt himself go red all over anyway.
    He'd promised himself to be cool around her from then on. When the Thanksgiving dance had come around, he hadn't been able
     to get up the nerve to ask her, and she'd gone with someone else—an eighth-grader. And why not? Freddie thought. Clarissa
     Logan sure looked like an eighth-grader herself. And him? He looked like a sixth-grader, at best. When, oh, when, was he going
     to start growing?
    “Hi,” he murmured, slowing to a halt. He'd