The League Read Free Page B

“I thought I heardyou say you wanted to give me some money for my corn dog.”
    “Uh-uh,” I said, praying that a teacher would appear.
    Spencer put his face right up to mine. “Either you said you wanted to give me some money or you said I didn’t know what corn dogs were made out of, which would mean I was stupid. So which is it? Do you want to give me some money or do you think I’m stupid?”
    Kicking myself for opening my mouth, I stood up and reached into my pockets. Spencer held out his hand while I gave him everything I had: a dollar bill, a quarter, and two pennies.
    “Thanks, wimp,” said Spencer, dropping the pennies on the ground. “Keep the change.” Then he used his foot to shove the merry-go-round hard enough to make Francis lose his balance. “I’m outta here,” he said as we spun slowly in a circle. “Don’t try to follow me.”
    “Enjoy your corn dog,” Francis called.
    “It’s not even for me. It’s for a girl. Do you know what that is? Probably not.” He laughed. “Oh, by the way, if you tell anyone where I am, I’ll smash your brains in.” Those were his last words. We watched him disappear around the bushes behind the playground and then he was out of sight.
    “I hope he gets busted by Principal Groton and has to go to summer school,” I said.
    “Who cares what Spencer does this summer?” Francis said. “I’m pretty sure he won’t be at the golf club. They wouldn’t let a thug like him past the front gate.”
    That was one good thing about golf camp, I thought. Spencer and his tank tops would not be welcome at the Pilchuck Golf and Tennis Club. “I bet he could hit the ball a mile, though,” I said.
    “Speaking of hitting balls, we’re on for golf after school today, right?” Francis asked. “I wonder if we’ll have time to play eighteen.”
    “I think nine is enough,” I replied. “I have two tests this week.”
    “Okay, you’re right,” Francis agreed. “We’ll have all summer to play golf.”
    McKlusky and Raj came jogging over from the grassy area where they’d been throwing the football. “We saw the whole thing,” said McKlusky. “How much did he get?”
    “A dollar and twenty-five cents,” I said, picking up the two pennies Spencer had dropped.
    “You’ll never see that money again.”
    Not unless I get a lot bigger, stronger, and braver in a hurry
, I thought. And that wasn’t going to happen hanging around a golf course with Francis. I hadto do something dramatic that would show Spencer I wasn’t afraid of him and make Evan think I was a man like Brian Braun.

    It was drizzling when we reached the ninth hole, the last we’d play that day. My ball was lying in the tall grass about six feet from the green. I gave the ball a gentle tap with my chipper, getting underneath just enough to lift it over the grass. The ball landed softly on the green and picked up speed as it changed direction at the top of the hill.
    “Looking good, Wyatt!” Dad called.
    “Get in there!” Jim shouted.
    “Find the hole,” Francis said.
    Now the ball was headed straight for the hole and it wasn’t slowing down. I watched without blinking as it rolled right on top of the hole, hit the back rim, rattled around, and dropped in.
    Dad put his arm around me. “That’s one to remember, Wyatt,” he said. “I’ve never hit a shot like that.”
    “I got lucky,” I said, retrieving my ball from the hole.
    “Luck?” Dad said, following me back to the cart. “Luck had nothing to do with that. You’re a good golfer, Wyatt. Give yourself some credit.”
    I knew I had hit a great shot, but something weird was happening. The more excited Dad became about me and golf, the more I wanted to be anywhere else, doing anything else. Golf was the sport Dad had chosen, and I didn’t like having decisions made for me. A round of golf now and then was okay, but two whole weeks of golf camp was another story. Especially when there were so many other sports I could be good