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    Rise Above
    Rise Above
    Rise Above
    Ebook67 pages48 minutes

    Rise Above

    By Shannon Knudsen

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Darius Burns is a second-stringer for the Troy Central High Trojans, but lately he's been stepping up his game. He even has a shot at the team's starting halfback spot. The biggest thing in his way is a guilty conscience. Because Darius hasn't improved through hard work alone. He's also getting "nutritional supplements" from an assistant coach.

    Soon Darius is reading about nasty side effects and worrying about his health. But if he goes to Troy Central's head coach, will he blow his chance to play in the state championship—or even cost his team the victory?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLerner Publishing
    Release dateAug 1, 2014
    ISBN9781467774291
    Rise Above
    Author

    Shannon Knudsen

    Shannon Knudsen has written books for young readers about elephants, mayors, the explorer Leif Eriksen, the reporter Nellie Bly, and many other topics. She lives with her cat and her dog in Arizona.

    Read more from Shannon Knudsen

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      Book preview

      Rise Above - Shannon Knudsen

      1 / FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 15—PRACTICE, SEVEN DAYS BEFORE STATE PLAYOFFS

      When you run the forty-yard dash, you can’t tell how fast you’re going. You’re too busy working your legs, pounding the turf, and pumping your arms to give a thought to the stopwatch in Coach Kramer’s hand. You know if it feels good—like, yeah, I got this—and you know if it doesn’t. But you never know until you cross the line if the number Coach calls out will be your record or just another piece of data for his clipboard.

      Not usually.

      Four-eight-six! Coach Kramer hollered as I flashed by. Might not turn a scout’s head, but for me? Sweet.

      I eased up and circled back around in time to see the man’s face crack into his signature grin, the one he only lets out if you’ve made his day. Another personal best for Burns!

      The guys on the sideline—the small group Coach Kramer had assembled for today’s extra workout—gave me high fives as I jogged past them. Well, most of them did. Ian McNamara looked the other way, like something truly fascinating was going on downfield.

      Awright, Red Hot! Fullback Dylan Davis punched me in the arm. You keep this up, I’ll be blocking for you in the playoffs.

      I hadn’t been Red Hot Burns until a week ago. All season long, I was just plain old Darius. But then it happened. First came my personal best on the bench press—not just weight, reps too. Leg press, same thing. When I started smoking the forty, people started to pay attention. Throw in a couple stellar runs in our last game, and I had myself a new nickname.

      Now I’d done it again—broken my own record in the forty. The same record I’d set just a week before. Dylan was right. I was on fire, and everybody knew it.

      Ian snorted. Red Hot? Try Roid Hot. Coach was too far away to hear him, but everyone else did.

      Half a second later, Terry Foster was up in his face, pointing a finger. No way, he hissed. No way, Ian. You do not go there. Not now, not ever.

      Huh. Who would have thought it? Terry had never said two words to me, yet here he was standing up for second-stringer Darius Burns. But when I thought about it, I realized he was just standing up for himself. After all, we were all in this together. And we all knew how dangerous it would be to say certain words out loud.

      Ian had his reasons to be mad, though. He and I had a serious rivalry going on over the starting halfback slot. Devon Shaw had pretty much owned the position all season. But last week, Devon had surgery on his wrist for a torn ligament. That left a serious gap in the Trojan starting lineup as we prepped for the state playoffs. It was a gap I intended to fill. So did Ian.

      You just keep trying, McNamara, I told him. Keep trying.

      He glared at me, but I laughed it off. Truth was, either of us could end up starting in the playoffs. The guys hadn’t started calling me Red Hot for nothing, but Ian had speed, agility, and size, a combination I couldn’t challenge just by practicing my sprints or pumping iron.

      Don’t get me wrong, I had plenty to offer the team. I had guts, I had toughness, and I could handle the ball like nobody’s business. Plus I knew the playbook backwards, forwards, and upside down.

      But when it came to finding the hole at crunch time, on a field full of guys looking for someone to smash? There, Ian could make plays. I might be the one racking up the numbers for now. And yeah, Coach Kramer couldn’t be happier with me. But Coach Zachary—our head coach, the only guy I truly needed to impress—couldn’t care less about nicknames or even records. When it came time to line up, he would go with the guy who could

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