Wart Read Online Free Page B

smell no matter what the meal was. Stewart stood behind Ham in line and wondered about the odor. In front of Ham stood Brad Wilson, king of the eighth grade. Stewart glanced in Brad's direction, but Brad didn't turn toward them until after Jake Phillips came to stand behind Stewart. "Hey, Jake," Brad called. "I saw Coach in the hall just now, and he told me he's giving out the basketball uniforms today."
    Stewart did not even hear Jake's reply. What a blow! He would be humiliated today in the gym just like he had been humiliated in art class. There were only twelve basketball uniforms and twenty-six boys in the class. Twelve would be given uniforms and allowed to play in an after-school league, against other schools! The other fourteen boys would be divided into two teams that would play each other. Stewart wanted to be one of the twelve. He wanted it desperately!
    Stewart looked at Ham, who had a weak little smile on his face. Well, they both knew Ham had a chance, a small chance, but at least a chance. They didn't talk much during lunch. Ham had the good sense not to tell Stewart to cheer up, and he was glad to eat the French fries Stewart pushed toward him.
    During geography, Stewart tried not to think about basketball, tried not to think about how great it would be to be on the real team. He liked the game, but it was more than that. He bit at his lip. If he could be a good player, he would be popular. He was sure of it. At Christmas he could tell Sammi. He wouldn't say anything at first. He would wait till maybe the second day they were together. Then he would say, "Oh, by the way, I am popular now." He would shrug and pretend it was no big deal. "Yeah," he would add, "I guess it sort of started after I made the team."
    Between geography and science, Ham came to Stewart's locker. "You eat that candy bar you had in there yesterday?" he wanted to know. Stewart dug under a pile of books, found a mashed chocolate bar, and handed it to Ham without a word. "Don't look so worried," Ham said. "I think you're going to make the team." He unwrapped the candy bar and started to eat.
    Stewart slammed his locker door. What made Ham so sure he was worried, and how could he be so skinny and stuff himself like that? "We'd better hurry. The bell's about to ring." He stomped away. Inside the science room, Stewart slumped down in his seat and waited, his eyes going constantly to the clock. Finally, the bell rang.
    Ham didn't say anything on the way to the gym, and Stewart felt grateful for that. Coach told the boys to settle on the floor to wait. Stewart's heart was pounding so loud that he expected someone to say something about the noise. Brad Wilson was the first person to be called. That was no surprise. He got up and walked down to the dressing room to try on uniforms. The way he moved, so full of confidence, really got to Stewart. He considered taking one of his brand-new basketball shoes out of his gym bag and throwing it at Brad. At least that way the price of the shoes wouldn't be wasted.
    Coach kept calling off names, Dave Stills, Jake Phillips, Carlos Valdez. Stewart was counting. Ham was too, putting out a finger each time the coach called a name. Two hands were almost used, only two fingers left. That meant four more names would be called. "Andrew Hamilton." Stewart felt proud of himself because he really was glad for his friend, and he managed to smile. "Matt Lawson, Obi Muonelo, Stewart Wright." Stewart couldn't believe it. At first, he thought about asking the coach if he had heard correctly, but instead he got up slowly. He wanted to walk off like he had been certain all along that he'd be included, but he couldn't. His walk was never right. Neither could he stop feeling bad for the other boys, the ones stuck on the reject teams.
    Brad and Jake were already changed and standing on the dressing room steps when Stewart started down. "Hey congratulations, Wart," Brad said when Stewart passed them.
    Oh great, the name was going