Slam Dunk

Chapter One Ashlee ran, weaved, and jumped. She flipped the ball toward the hoop from the three-point line. Swish! Tribeca Saints 31, SoHo Panthers 28 in the NYC Community League. "Go, Saints! Go, Saints!" the fans yelled. Five minutes to go to the end of the game, and the Saints were edging ahead. But the Panthers had the ball; they were dribbling up the court- Ashlee fell back to defend. "Yeah, Ashlee!" the Saints fans cried as she stole the ball back. She dribbled smoothly past half court, faked in one direction to give herself an open space, drove to the basket, and then pivoted and passed as a Panthers'defender closed in. Marissa caught the ball, faked, and passed back to Ashlee. This time Ashlee squared up to the hoop, tucked her elbows in, and shot. The ball kissed off the backboard and dropped through the net. The referee signaled for two points-33 to 28. The crowd went wild. But Ashlee didn't notice them. She saw only the ball and her fellow teammates dressed in their bright blue uniforms-tall, lithe girls with long legs and arms that propelled them up to reach the hoop and push the ball in. She heard only the voice of their coach, Erika Schrader, yelling instructions from the bench. "Press!" Erika cried as the Panthers inbounded the ball. The ref quickly blew her whistle, signaling that Marissa had fouled the Panthers'guard. Ashlee sprinted down the court and lined up for the foul shot. The Panthers'guard shot the free throw off the front end of the rim, and Ashlee leaped up to grab the rebound. The Saints pushed the ball up the floor. "Great defending!" the crowd roared. For almost 40 minutes they'd watched Ashlee Carson scoop, push, shoot, and block the ball. They'd seen her dribble circles around the Panthers team, twist her torso in midair, and float the ball through that magical hoop. Overhead the rows of lights had dazzled. Out on the court the SoHo Panthers had been left floundering, flat-footed, and frustrated. "How does Ashlee do that?" the crowd cried in astonishment. "Honest to God, I swear I saw that girl fly!" "Ashlee, where were you?" Theresa Carson was angry, waiting for her daughter at the door of their apartment. "I expected you home early tonight." "The Saints had a game," Ashlee muttered. She flung her school bag down in the hallway and headed for the refrigerator. "How come you never told me?" "I did." "I don't remember." Frowning, Theresa searched on the narrow hall table for her keys. "Listen, I'm late for work. I'm going to trust you to do your homework and then get to bed early. You look beat." "'Hey, Ashlee, how did the game go? Did you win?'" Ashlee mimicked the voice of a sweet, supportive mom, the type that wore lipstick and baked apple pie. The type that didn't exist. Theresa raised her eyebrows. She found her keys. "If I'm late again, I lose my job. If I lose my job, I don't buy your uniform for Queensbridge." Ashlee frowned and shook her head. She said nothing. "Do your homework," her mom repeated, banging the door shut as she left. "Footwork fundamentals." Erika began Saturday's coaching session with the basics. She was focused on the four new kids who had joined the Tribeca Saints. "You stand with your weight forward on the balls of your feet, knees bent, butt down, hands held at fiKing, Donna is the author of 'Slam Dunk ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780753461556 and ISBN 0753461552.