five.

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          
CHAPTER FIVE:
DISCOVERY CHANNEL
                          
[ THE POLLYWOG PART II ]
                          
❖ ❖ ❖
                          
          Thomas was quite sure that the whole concept of Shirts versus Skins was both the most humiliating thing humanity had ever produced and the most utterly destroying. He absolutely adored the game of basketball — and many sports in general, really, simply because his abilities allowed him to cheat and win without ever getting caught — and yet his whole lesson — no, his whole day — was ruined at the pronouncement that this was a game of Shirts versus Skins.
                          
          He had never felt such immense, crushing relief than when he found out he was not going to have to take off his shirt.
                          
          After he hadn't spoken to Steve since the night of the party, Thomas wasn't quite sure if it was a good or a bad thing that he had Steve on his own team. He supposed that, at least, he wouldn't have to see Steve with his shirt off, which was always a positive, but he was now forced to interact with Steve in a friendly, civilised way. If they had been on opposite teams, Thomas might have had the opportunity to throw the basketball at his face or something of the sort. 
                          
         But, even still, his heart wasn't fully in the idea. For the first time, he was starting to wonder... Did Steve really deserve a basketball to the face? 
                          
          Besides, he was beginning to think that, that would be an impossible task: Steve was a brilliant basketball player and, with his sneakers squeaking and his feet darting quickly along the linoleum ground, Steve had constant possession of the ball, darting back and forth. Thomas wasn't even ashamed to compliment Steve about that; it was wholly true, and to pretend it wasn't would be a lie. He was, however, ashamed to admit he was slightly, just slightly, jealous.
                          
          He was broken back into reality when Billy, the horrible boy from the party, wagged his tongue playfully, before he darted forward to steal the ball. Steve twisted, turning his back on the other boy and bouncing the ball in front of him as Billy tried to reach over his body and seize the orange ball. With his left shoulder pressed to Billy's chest, Steve tilted his head to listen as, with a sneer, Billy began to speak. 
                          
          Thomas watched as, the moment Steve responded, Billy managed to dodge around him, foot tripping Steve's and pulling it out from under him as his hands easily robbed him of the ball. Steve toppled to land on his back on the ground, then looked over to Billy, who had already bounced across the court and was swinging the ball beneath his leg and then scoring. Sharp and shrill, the whistle blew. 
                          
          Looking over at Steve, who was back on his feet, keeling over, hands on his knees, Billy wagged his tongue again.
                          
          "Steve!" a voice off to the side shouted, coming from by the gym doors. Thomas looked over. Nancy.