Snowboard Showdown (3 page)

“So what do you say?” Dondi prodded, leaning forward.

“Thank you,” Freddie mumbled, knowing that was what his parents were expecting him to say. Sure enough, he caught them smiling
at each other. They did that whenever Dondi and Freddie were getting along.

Enjoy it now, Freddie thought ruefully. Dondi will never get me anything. We'll be sworn enemies again before too long, I'm
sure.

F
reddie was in social studies class a few afternoons later when his friend Steve Myers leaned over and whispered in his ear,
“Your brother has been dissing me around.”

Freddie's eyes widened. “Really? What'd he say?”

“Tell you after class,” Steve said, eyeing the teacher, Ms. Raven, who was turning in their direction.

Once the bell had rung and the two boys were gathering their books, Freddie said, “Tell me. What'd he say?”

“He's been telling everybody in school that I don't know how to snowboard,” Steve said, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

“Dondi's a jerk,” Freddie said sympathetically. “It's not like he's so great himself, either.”

“I know!” Steve said as they went out into the hallway. “He acts like he's all that, but he isn't that much better than me.
And you're much better than he is, Freddie.”

“Yeah, well, so what?” Freddie asked glumly. “What good does that do me?”

“Huh?”

Freddie sighed. “Oh, nothing. Forget Dondi. I try to,” Freddie said. “We could go out to the halfpipe after school.”

“Cool!” Steve said, brightening. “You could show me some fresh moves and maybe tell me what I'm doing wrong.”

“You don't necessarily have to be doing something wrong,” Freddie commented. “Dondi could just be trying to push your buttons.
He does that to me all the time.”

“What if he's there?” Steve asked, suddenly anxious.

“Relax, he won't be there,” Freddie assured him. “He's got a job after school now. At Buddy's.”

“At Buddy's? Man, he is so lucky!” Steve said, a look of envy on his face.

Coming toward him in the hallway, Freddie saw
Clarissa wheeling Eric. “Hey, you guys,” Freddie greeted them. “We're going out to the halfpipe this afternoon. You want to
come and watch?”

“Can't,” Eric said. “I've got to do my science project.”

“You didn't do that yet?” Steve asked. “How can you leave it to the last minute like that?”

“He can,” Freddie assured him. “He'll get an A, too. He always does. I could punch him, he's so smart.”

Freddie turned to Clarissa. “How 'bout you, Clarissa? Want to come snowboarding?” Freddie asked hopefully.

“No, sorry,” she said. “I've never gone snowboarding.”

“Really? Maybe I could–”

“Anyway, I can't,” she interrupted him. “I'm going to the mall.”

Freddie gulped. “The mall?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” she said, giving them all a captivating smile. “Dondi invited me to come visit him at his new job. He said he'd buy
me a sundae at Barlow's. Can't resist that,” she said.

The second bell rang. “Dang, we're late,” Eric said.
“Come on, Clarissa. See you guys later!” Clarissa began pushing the wheelchair, and the two of them were off.

“We'd better get to study hall,” Steve said to Freddie. “Hey. What's the matter with you? You look like you just got bad news
or something.”

“I did,” Freddie said.

“Huh? Oh, I get it,” Steve said knowingly as the truth dawned on him. “You like Clarissa, huh? Man, get in line. Half the
guys in school like her.”

“Thanks for sharing that, Steve,” he said. “Besides, she likes Dondi, so I can forget about it.”

“Come on,” Steve said as they entered the auditorium for study hall. “How could she like him better than you?”

“Well, let's see now,” Freddie said. “He's an eighth-grader, he's got a job, he knows how to act with girls… want me to go
on?”

“At least you're better at snowboarding,” Steve offered lamely.

“Yeah. Great.” Freddie sighed, taking a seat and dropping his bookbag on another. “That will really do me a lot of good.”

“How do you do that?” Steve asked Freddie, his eyes wide with admiration. Freddie had just finished a 360° turn complete with
grab.

“I don't know,” Freddie said. “I just do it.”

“I could never do that,” Steve said.

“Sure you could, dude,” Freddie assured him. “Let me see you try it. Come on.”

“Nah, I'd be too scared,” Steve said. “I mean, what if I lost control and landed on my head or something?”

“You won't lose control,” Freddie insisted. “Not unless you freeze up. Don't you see, Steve—it's the fear that makes you lose
control.”

“Great,” Steve said disconsolately. “How'm I supposed to get rid of that?”

Freddie thought for a minute. “Maybe if you just go all the way with the move, and don't do it halfway. Try it, Steve. Just
try it once, for me.”

“Well… okay,” Steve said. He started up the hill to the top of the halfpipe. “Just go all the way with it, huh?”

“That's it… think like you're a famous acrobat getting shot out of a cannon, or like you're a champion high-diver. Stretch
out your body. Yank it left,
and from the waist, not the shoulders. That's where Dondi always messes up. He moves from the shoulders and winds up pulling
himself right into the snow.”

“Hmmm,” Steve grunted, strapping on his board and adjusting his helmet. “Better get ready to call 911 just in case,” he said
with a bit of a grin. Then he shoved off.

Freddie watched as he slid down the slope, picking up speed. “Don't anticipate!” Freddie yelled after him. “Time it out! Keep
your center of gravity low!” As Steve neared the top of the wall, Freddie unconsciously bent into a crouch, willing Steve
to time the jumpoff and twist just right.

Steve, understandably a little anxious, pulled up early and didn't get the height on his jump that he needed. But he did pull
well from the waist and got all the way around on his turn just before he hit the snow again. The surprise of making the move
threw him off, though. After a lot of wobbling, he toppled and slid down the rest of the way on his backside.

Freddie boarded down after him, stopping just as Steve was getting up off the ground.

“I did it, kind of!” Steve said, sporting a big grin.
“I see what you mean about twisting from the waist.”

“Yeah,” Freddie said, nodding happily. “Next time, just don't anticipate the takeoff, and you'll nail the landing too. See,
I told you you could do it.”

Steve laughed. “Not like you,” he said. “Oh, and that reminds me. About Clarissa?”

“Ugh,” Freddie said. “Don't depress me. She's at the mall with Dondi right about now. I hope he spills ice cream right on
his lap.”

Steve chuckled. “That would be pretty cool,” he said. “Anyway, I had an idea. Remember what I said about you being better
than Dondi at snow-boarding?”

“Yeah. So?” Freddie asked. “I told you already, it doesn't make any difference.”

“Well, it could,” Steve said. “If she could see how much better a boarder you are than Dondi, she might change her mind about
who she likes best.”

“Right,” Freddie said hopelessly. “Anyway, I'm not that much better than him.”

“Sure you are!” Steve assured him. “And since he's working all the time now, you'll be getting more practice than him, and
you'll only get better! In fact,
I was thinking you could challenge Dondi to a contest and make sure Clarissa's there to see it.”

“Too obvious,” Freddie pointed out. Then he blinked as an idea came to him. “Unless maybe we made it a big contest, with other
boarders.”

“Yeah!” Steve said excitedly. “Let's do it!”

“You know, Steve,” Freddie said with a smile, putting an arm around his friend's shoulders, “you're not as dumb as you look.
That is a most excellent idea. Not bad at all.”

T
he first thing the two boys needed to do was lay out their plan for Eric. It was one thing to have a big idea. But if you
really wanted to think something through, Eric Schwartz was the man to see. The very next day at lunch, Freddie and Steve
took him over to a table in the far corner of the cafeteria.

“So, what's up?” Eric asked when they were out of earshot of everyone else.

Freddie jumped right in. “We've got this idea for a snowboarding contest,” he said. And he laid out the plan for Eric.

“Let me get this straight,” said Eric when Freddie was done. “Freddie likes Clarissa, who likes Dondi. Freddie thinks that
by beating Dondi in a snow-boarding contest, Clarissa will suddenly like him better than big brother?”

Freddie blinked. When Eric put it like that, it didn't sound quite as good.

Eric shook his head. “Won't it seem a little obvious to Dondi? I can't see him jumping at the chance to be made a complete
fool of.”

Freddie opened his mouth, but Eric wasn't finished. “And what if you don't win?” he pointed out. “Doesn't that sort of defeat
the purpose?”

“He's going to win,” Steve argued. “We'll only invite boarders he can beat but who can beat Dondi.”

Eric looked at them both. “And no one realizes it's all a setup. Have I got it all right?”

“Yup,” Steve said.

“What do you think?” Freddie asked.

“I don't know,” Eric said, frowning. “Sounds risky to me. And it might not work anyway. Your biggest problem, of course, is
that Clarissa doesn't seem the type of girl to be impressed by great moves on the slopes.”

“Have you got any better suggestions?” Steve asked him. “Because he can't just sit here while Dondi buys Clarissa ice cream
sundaes and tells her every nasty thing he knows about Freddie, can he?”

“Hmmm. I see your point,” Eric said, tapping his
fingers on his chair. He sighed. “Well, I can't seem to think of anything better to suggest, so I'll help.”

“Thanks,” Freddie said. If Eric was on board, he knew there was a good chance they'd succeed—even if Eric didn't seem one-hundred-percent
convinced that the plan would work.

“So what do we do first?” Steve asked.

Eric scratched his head. “Well, we've got to line up some contestants. How many were you planning on?”

“At least six, including me and Dondi,” Freddie said. “Anything less and it would look funny.”

“Okay,” Eric agreed. “Have you got anyone in mind? How about Nate Sherman?”

“Forget it!” Steve said. “He's way better than Freddie. He and Brad Forest are the only two kids to ever go down Devil's Ravine
and come out in one piece. They can do reverse somersaults on the half-pipe. Are you kidding me?”

“Hmmm. Okay, so Nate and Brad are out,” Eric said, nodding. “Why don't we get a bunch of seventh- and even sixth-graders?
That way, Dondi will look even worse when he loses.”

“Cool!” Steve said. “How about Les Buckman?
And me, of course. I can beat Dondi, if Freddie helps me practice some more.”

“That only leaves two more slots,” Eric said. “Ooh, I've got it! How about Cheryl Abercrombie and Veronica McBride? They're
both pretty good. And can't you just see Dondi's face when a couple of girls beat him?”

Freddie had to smile. It would bother Dondi, he knew. Dondi was one of those kids who thought boys can do any sport better
than girls. “So that's six!” he said. “Great. Who's going to invite them?”

“I'll take care of it,” Eric said. “That way, it'll look less like it's your idea. Once we've got everyone else lined up,
you can invite Dondi.”

“Who's going to be the judge?” Steve asked.

“I can do that, too,” Eric said. “And I'll be emcee as well. You guys just take care of boarding, okay? Leave the rest to
me.”

Freddie waited until after dinner to approach Dondi about the contest. Esteban had heated up canned vegetables and prepared
two boxes of macaroni and cheese. Neither of the boys complained. It was
better than their dad's hopeless attempts at real cooking.

After dinner Freddie did his homework and watched his favorite show on TV. Just before bedtime he headed up to Dondi's room.
The door was open, and Dondi was inside counting up his money. There seemed to be a lot of it, Freddie noticed.

“Where'd you get all that money?” he asked Dondi.

“Did I say you could come in?” Dondi responded.

“The door was open.” Freddie didn't move.

“You messed up my count,” Dondi complained. “Now I have to start over.”

“You didn't answer me,” Freddie pointed out. “Did you get paid all that money at work?”

“No, man,” Dondi said with a laugh. “What do you think, the boss is gonna pay me before I even work a week? You are so dumb
sometimes.”

“Shut up, you jerk,” Freddie shot back, his anger rising to the surface so fast that he couldn't stop it. “Why do you always
call me names?”

“I didn't call you a name,” Dondi said. “You called me a name. All I said was that sometimes you're dumb. And you are.”

“So are you,” Freddie said. “Do I get to call you 'stupid idiot'?”

“Okay, okay, get over it,” Dondi said, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “To answer your question, this is all left over
from my birthday and Christmas, plus shoveling snow and stuff. I've been saving up.”