KALIKABUZA

Chapter 20

We're in the quarter finals, and it's the Hot Rods again. Of all the teams we could have faced. I hate to admit it, but they're tough. And their leader, Blake, he's a pretty big guy. He looks like the classic high school bully, with those football jerseys, basketball shorts and little gold chain. He's Black, with huge arms and legs; buzz cut; and has a scary snarl. But I can accept that he is the way he is—after all, someone has to be the big guy. What I just can't grasp is that most of his team are also big, strong, athletic kids. Like, what are the odds that the biggest players are all in the same team? I mean, even the Hot Rods girls are big and tall and strong. Well... whatever. No matter what, I, Duke Anderson, am not going to lose in the quarter finals to these guys!

First up is Miyu. She should know by now how to hold the ball. This time I won't make the same mistakes I made in the last few games. We figured Anissa is the best at bowling—she got two strikes and one spare on the last game, so she will play every second attempt, unless someone gets a strike on their first attempt; and the final frame is all hers.

Miyu only got three pins down—ugh! While on the other lane, the Hot Rods got seven down. But my plan should still work out: I kick Miyu out and put Anissa in. She takes the ball and does not hesitate. Bam! A spare! Damn! That's my plan right there, "Oh yeah!" I cry. But the Hot Rods got... a spare too! Damn it!

"Don't get so cocky so soon!" Blake laughs.

Nick gets six down—Anissa a spare. Gabriela gets nothing—Anissa gets seven. Mike gets eight—Anissa one. Emma gets a strike, wow! Our game is far superior than our previous. We're actually keeping a good pace. Anissa is really doing a good job. But those Hot Rods... they never fall behind us!

"Man, whatever we do, they just keep catching up!" Mike protests.

"Maybe they're cheating or something," Anissa says. "They could be using lighter balls. I don't seem them struggling when they swing."

"What they got is big balls, that's what they got," I say. "No excuses, though. They're really good, bet, but we just need to be better. Play harder! We gotta kick those Hot Rods right in the fenders!"

"Being crude isn't going to help us win, Duke," Macy points out. "Let's just keep doing what we're doing and stay focused on our game. Even if they keep catching up to us, we can beat them by at least one point."

"Alright, whatever," I say and roll my eyes. "So, who's up next?"

"You are!" Macy giggles and hands me a ball. "Focus!"

I walk up to the lane. This is the sixth frame. I don't need Anissa's help for this one—I can do it.

"Hey Swag boy!"

I look: it's Blake—the big, bad leader. Oh damn... I'm going up against him?

"Let's see what you got, huh?" He laughs.

Screw this guy! Don't listen to him; don't listen. I face the lane. This is it. I release the ball. So far, so good. But I can't resist: I look at Blake's lane. The dude released the ball like a freaking missile, and... all of his pins go down! What? A perfect strike! My pins, on the other hand, all stay up except two. "Damn it!"

"What's that you said before about our fenders? Looks like we just ran over your swag!"

"Macy!" I yell. "Pass me a freaking ball!"

"Calm down, calm down," Macy says as she casually walks up to me and gives me a ball. "Maybe you should let Anissa take this one."

"No way!" I step up to the lane. I look straight at my eight pins, then I kiss the ball and go for it. Roll, roll, roll... and... eight—no, seven pins go down. No way...

"Too bad, Swag boy!"

"Hey man," I snap and face Blake, "my name's Duke, alright? Now screw off, cause' this game ain't over yet!"

"Oh, screw off, huh? If you wanna go right here, right now, I'll take you on!"

What a bastard! I wanna break his face. But... the dude is huge, and we can't get disqualified over a fight–that's one of the few rules that do exist in this summer camp.

"Scared, boy?"

"Duke, don't listen to him!" Macy pleads, as she runs up to me. "It's not over yet, and it's not worth it!"

"Bro, just chill," Mike says, putting his hand on my tight shoulder. "It's just a game."

"Yeah, and we are winning it!" Blake laughs like a villain and joins his team.

"Let Anissa go now, alright?" Macy says kindly. "Less ego, more points. We can still win!"

I roll my eyes and push past her. I don't know what I hate most, that she is annoyingly motherly, or that she's always right.

"I'll take frame seven," Anissa says. "Don't worry, Duke, we'll beat these jackasses. Just take it easy or we'll get disquali—"

"I know, I know. Go for it!" I take a seat. My arms are crossed. I watch Anissa do her thing: she gets five on the first attempt, and then a spare. That makes 80 points. As for the Hot Rods... seven and a spare. That's... 104! Shit!

Macy is going next. She's going to try her absolute and very best, because I told her I won't let her eat for the whole day if she screws this up! With ball in hand, she goes for it. And... that's just great, only three pins go down. Seriously? "Macy, man!"

Macy looks at me, dead on. "I," she says, "am not," she steps forward, "a man. Thank you very much. Now take it easy."

"Fine!" Geez! This girl could shut even Donald Trump's mouth. But... I'm the leader, not her. This is my team!

Macy goes for it again. Six go down. Oh man, that's just 92 points! How many did the Hot Rods get? Five and... two. That's 116 points!

"Emma, you got a strike earlier, go for it again!" I order.

"Oh... sure." She grabs the ball. I hope her strike from before wasn't just pure luck. She steps up and goes for it. She gets... eight. Brilliant!

"Yeah, Emma, that's it! Now get the spare!"

But Emma doesn't get the spare—she throws it in the gutter! Ugh!

"Hot Rods got seven and two," Mike says. "They have 125 points. We're only at 100."

"We lost..." Anissa says.

"What? No! We have three tries left on frame ten!" I protest.

"The third try isn't guaranteed," Anissa says. "To beat their 125, we would need two strikes in a row and then hope for a third strike."

"Well, let's try! Three strikes in a row! We can do that! Let's beat them!"

"It's not impossible, but... if they get more than five points in their first attempt, we're done."

My heart sinks. Well... that's it then. The last frame goes on, and, yup, the Hot Rods kill us when they get seven pins. Then, they get a spare, and the rest is history. We lost 121 to 137.

"Bye-bye, Swag!" Blake laughs "Hope you guys do better in b-ball tomorrow!"

"Yo, hush, Blake!" a Hot Rod boy cries, pulling Blake away.

Did he say b-ball? Basketball? He knows what sport we're playing tomorrow? What? Interesting! The Hot Rods are getting information, too... Did he also know we were playing bowling today? Well... anyhow. Yes, we lost. But this isn't over. It's only Day Two and we've still got a long way to go.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hello! Bati here,

Uh-oh, looks like Blake let something slip at the end! So it looks like both Teams Swag and Hot Rods know a secret: how to find out what sport or game they're going to play. How did they come across this information? Knowing what will happen the next day is a huge advantage for the team, since they can prepare a solid strategy ahead of time, while the rest of teams have to strategize on the go!