Everybody was running a little harder in practice, talking more during scrimmages, and complaining less about playing time. Coach told us to think of it as another chance to start the season. Except we were 0–3 with seven games left. Finishing 7–3 might get us into the postseason league tournament. Or it might not. As for me and JJ, we were on the same team, but we were no longer best friends. Sometimes I thought I saw him watching me when I was joking around with Raj or McKlusky or one of the other guys. But if he had something to say to me, he never said it. He just did his thing quietly and let his basketball do the talking. One day in practice, Coach was in a foul mood. Everything anyone did was wrong. We ran all afternoon while he stood on the sideline scowling. Even Roy seemed to know to keep his mouth shut. We were still running at 4:45, when Megan came into the gym, took a seat in the bleachers, and opened a book, glancing up at us every once in a while. She hadn’t been in the gym long when Coach lined us up on the baseline.
