Someday We'll Be Together

Chapter 12- Doing Absolutely Nothing

"Listen. Everything, absolutely everything, depends on what happens today," Lena said seriously.
They were standing at the entrance to the court where the big game was about to start.
"But the woman said doing nothing would be enough," Max said nonchalantly.
"That's exactly why you mustn't try to do anything. Don't get into trouble, that's what I mean."
Max had an expression that barely concealed his urge to laugh.
"What's so funny?" Lena asked, keeping her usual seriousness.
"Sorry, but with that hair and weird outfit, I can't take you seriously," Max said, unable to hold back his laughter.
Lena rolled her eyes. "We've been here for a week. Haven't you gotten used to the 80s yet?"
"I don't think 2000s kids can ever get used to the 80s," Tyler remarked.
Just then, they heard the basketball coach calling out to Max in his sports attire.
"I've been looking for you everywhere, Fountain!"
Max hurried over to the coach.
"Is he seriously going to play in a basketball game in 1983?" Tyler asked.
"He better not. I don't want to see Max in the 1983 team photo in the future basketball awards cabinet," Lena replied.
While the cheerleaders were taking the stage, Max was in the locker room changing clothes. Suddenly, he felt a hand on the back of his neck, and before he knew it, a force shoved him backward. He stumbled, crashing into a locker to keep from falling. Kyle was looking at him with a victorious expression. Max tried to back away, but there was no more space to go.
"Now you'll pay for everything you've done by not being able to play in the big game."
As Kyle raised his hand to strike, something hit his head from behind, and he collapsed to the ground. Max looked on in shock.
"Let's go! The game is about to start!" Michelangelo said, leaving the skateboard he had just used to knock out Kyle on the ground.
As Max and Michelangelo headed back to the court, Max couldn't believe what his dad had just done.
"Hey, thanks for saving me, buddy."
"After everything you've done for me, I owed you one."
"I just wanted you to see that you could beat Kyle."
"I realized I didn't need to be strong to beat Kyle. Just a bit smarter and, well, a descendant of the Romans."
Max laughed and nodded. "A descendant of the Romans."
They passed by a phone booth. Michelangelo suddenly stopped.
"Hey, I need to call my mom."
"For what?" Max asked, puzzled.
"Well... for good luck. Hearing my mom's voice helps me play better."
"Oh my God, are you five or something?" Max rolled his eyes.
Michelangelo entered the phone booth, and Max followed him. As Michelangelo dialed the number, they saw a broom handle being shoved through the booth's handle. Max tried to push the door open in horror, but it wouldn't budge. The boys in Kyle's gang waved at them, laughing. Michelangelo dropped the phone and turned to Max.
"We're stuck in here."
"We can't stay here. You have to get to the game, Michelangelo!" Max yelled.
"Yes, but we're trapped!" Michelangelo shouted back.
"This is all your fault. If you hadn't needed to call your mom, this wouldn't have happened!"
"Well, I always talk to my mom before every game! It's been that way since I started playing basketball."
While Max and Michelangelo were arguing, Lena and Tyler were in the stands watching the team photo being taken. But there was a problem: neither Max, Kyle, nor Michelangelo were there.

Lena turned to Tyler suspiciously. "Hey, shouldn't they be here by now? I mean, look, they're taking the team photo without them."
"Maybe they went to the bathroom or something," Tyler suggested.
"All three of them at the same time? I doubt it. Them disappearing all at once isn't a good sign."
Lena pulled out the photo from her bag and looked at it in horror. Tyler saw what she was looking at. Leo had completely disappeared from the photo.
"Oh no. Max is next," Lena said anxiously. "Quick! We need to find them," Tyler said, jumping to his feet.

As Max and Michelangelo were still trying to force open the phone booth doors, they saw Mrs. Murray passing by. They banged on the glass harder, begging her with their eyes to open the door. Mrs. Murray shook her head with a stern expression, muttering "Slackers" under her breath as she walked away. Max sat down on the booth floor, holding his head in his hands in despair. Michelangelo sat down beside him.
"I'm really sorry. I'm going to ruin both our futures," he said guiltily.
"It's okay, Michelangelo," Max said, trying to smile at his dad. "At least you'll have a future. Maybe not the one you were supposed to have, but you'll still have one. I might not even have a future."
Michelangelo patted Max's shoulder kindly. "It's not too late yet."
"Thanks for the advice, dad—um, I mean, buddy. It's been nice knowing you. But you know, we have this..."
"The Fontana bad luck," Michelangelo finished.
Max nodded.
"Actually, it's me. I have the Fontana bad luck," Michelangelo corrected himself.
"Trust me, I have it too," Max replied.
"How so?"
Just then, they saw Tyler standing in front of the phone booth with a skateboard. Tyler looked at Max and Michelangelo inside with confusion, then removed the broomstick from the booth's handle. Max and Michelangelo rushed out and looked at Tyler gratefully.
"What were you doing in there?" Tyler asked.
"Long story," Max said, glancing at Michelangelo. "We have a game to catch."
Tyler handed them the skateboard Michelangelo had used to knock out Kyle. "Good luck."
The game had started with the whistle, but Kyle, who had just woken up in the locker room, missed it. While waiting for Tyler to return where they had found the skateboard, Lena was unaware that Kyle had regained consciousness. When she felt hands on her back and turned around in fear, she screamed. Kyle had trapped Lena between himself and the wall.