Read Online Athlete vs. Mathlete by W. C. Mack - Free Book Online Page B

difficult about the money yesterday because the team is new to him and he doesn’t know where he’s going to fit in with us.”
    â€œ
If
he commits to joining,” Nitu said, offering another eye roll.
    â€œYes, if he commits.” I sighed, half hoping he wouldn’t. Things were complicated enough without him. “And if he does, we welcome a new brain. Agreed?” I looked at each of them in turn, and they all quietly nodded.
    The bell rang and we said our good-byes.
    â€œSara, can you call me tonight and fill me in on the meeting?” I asked, just as she was leaving. She was the most likely to give me a fair update.
    â€œI will.” She nodded. “And Russell?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œGood luck at tryouts,” she said with a shy smile.
    â€œThank you.”

    I couldn’t concentrate in any of my classes. There was way too much going on in every part of my life, and tryouts were the least of it. I’d lost my Masters of the Mind confidence, I had no idea how to keep Arthur off the team, how to raise the money for our registration, or how to drop an egg from two stories without breaking it.
    What kind of a leader was I?
    A well-dressed one, apparently. I’d been complimented all day on my new shoes, and I couldn’t believe how much impact a bit of rubber and nylon had on my popularity. Of course, it was an incredibly cool blend of rubber and nylon, but still. Those shoes got me more attention than my honor roll appearances or my perfect score on the sixth-grade math exam.
    Suddenly, I had a new understanding of why some girlsspent so much time fixing their hair and comparing outfits, and some boys cared so much about wearing the right jeans.

    When the final bell rang, I took a deep breath and gathered my new sports gear from my locker. It was a shame to think it would only be worn once, but there was nothing I could do about that.
    As I walked down the hallway, I hoped the Masters would have a good meeting without me. And “good” meant no Arthur.
    If he was out of the way, I was fairly sure I could get back on track. The more I thought about it, the more certain I was that the distractions of Arthur and tryouts were what had thrown me off my Masters game. I wasn’t losing my skills, I was just … sidetracked.
    When I walked into the boys’ locker room, the buzz of conversation I’d heard from the hallway suddenly stopped.
    I froze, unsure of what to do.
    A week ago, I wouldn’t have dreamed I’d be standing in a locker room about to try out for the basketball team. A week ago, all I’d been worried about was Chao moving to Cincinnati and whether we’d make it through a single competition without him.
    Life had been so much easier when all I had to thinkabout were Masters of the Mind and Math Club. But I’d wasted study time practicing for the basketball court and classroom time worrying about whether I’d be good enough.
    Of course I wouldn’t.
    And everyone knew it.
    Even when I’d been excited about what it would feel like to be a Pioneer, I’d known it would never happen.
    Owen was the jock. I was the brains. And that was how it was supposed to be.
    I cleared my throat and looked at the guys.
    The room was dead silent, and everyone was staring at me like I didn’t belong.
    And they were right. I didn’t.
    I belonged at a table with my Masters of the Mind friends, not standing alone while a crowd of jocks I barely knew looked me over from head to toe, wondering what I was doing there.
    What was I doing there?
    Every cell in my body told me that I was making a big mistake. That I was about to humiliate myself in front of a live audience.
    The nitrogen group: nitrogen, phosphorus, arsenic, antimony, and bismuth
.
    â€œSeriously?” Paul asked, staring at me from his spot on the bench. “You’re seriously trying out?”
    â€œYes,” I said, quietly.
    Owen’s friends kept