Read Online Dunk Under Pressure by Rich Wallace - Free Book Online

beyond our own neighborhood now. We got credentials .”
    That got Dunk to thinking about his own “credentials.” He’d played a good game this morning, but he knew that he had a long way to go before reaching the level that Jared and Fiorelli and Spencer were on. Those guys could hold their own with the best players in the state. Dunk was still pretty average.
    He knew what he needed to work on:
    —Speed. That was one thing he could certainly improve. It was a matter of getting into better condition. Running after school. Keeping up the hustle on the court.
    —Flexibility. Especially his jumping ability. This was still his weakest aspect. But he knew where he could work on it. The guys would never let him hear the end of it if they caught him, but Aunt Krystal’s aerobics classes would definitely limber him up.
    He laughed at that, picturing himself dancing and bounding and bouncing around the gym to the salsa and rock tunes Krystal played. But if it would make him a better athlete, he’d be willing to give it a try.
    —Basketball. As long as he kept playing, he’d keep getting better. There was always a pickup game to jump into outside the Y or at a play-ground. He’d never get tired of that.
    “Who’s playing tomorrow?” Dunk said loudly. “Ten o’clock at the Y. Who’s up for it?”
    “Not me,” said Fiorelli. “I got blisters on the bottoms of my feet. And football practice starts in a couple of days. I need a break.”
    “I’ll be there,” said Willie.
    “Me, too,” said Lamont.
    “Now shut up about basketball,” David called. “It’s summertime. Time to chill out on the beach.”
     
     
    Dunk met Krystal at the food stand while the others ran toward the water. He’d join them later.
    “My turn to buy?” Dunk asked. “You got the Chinese food the other night.”
    “I can handle it,” Krystal said. “You must be just about tapped out anyway.”
    Dunk’s parents had given him forty dollars for food and he still had a few bucks left. He shrugged. “I’ll get it next time then. There’s a few cars I can wash this weekend to make some money.”
    “You can wash mine.”
    “Bring it over.”
    They drank big cups of icy lemonade and shared a plate of fried clams and onion rings. Then Dunk had a sausage sandwich.
    “Lot of grease,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
    “Tell me about it,” Krystal said, patting her narrow stomach. “That was my one indulgence for the summer.”
    Krystal paid the bill and said she’d better get going.
    “One more thing,” Dunk said.
    “You’re not full yet?”
    “Not food,” he said. “Follow me.”
    They walked a short way up the Boardwalk and stopped at the basketball shoot. Dunk paid a dollar and said, “Watch this.”
    His first shot had the nice, true arc. It bounced lightly on the back of the rim, rolled slightly to the left, then dropped through the net.
    “Nice touch,” Krystal said.
    Dunk took the second ball, crouched slightly, and flicked his wrist with confidence. This one fell cleanly through.
    “We have a winner!” shouted the guy in charge. “Take anything in the booth!”
    Dunk turned to Krystal and grinned. “Whatever you want,” he said.
    She laughed. There were purple gorillas, a green moose in a Knicks jersey, and dozens of big teddy bears and tigers.
    “That moose looks a little like you,” she teased. “I guess I’ll take that one.”
    Dunk grabbed the moose and handed it to her. “Thanks, Aunt Krystal,” he said.
    “What are you thanking me for?” she asked. “You’re the one giving me a gift.”
    “You know why,” Dunk said.
    She gave a sly smile. “The lemonade?”
    Dunk rolled his eyes. “Give me that moose,” he said. “I’ll carry it to your car for you. And really—thanks for everything. For believing in me. It means a lot coming from you.”
    They walked back to the Sea Breeze Motel. The car was boiling hot from sitting in the sun, so Krystal opened the windows and turned on the