After each run, Eric would announce the boarder's score. There were individual scores for each move and an overall score for the run on a scale of 0 to 10. Les had scored a 7.0 for his overall—Eric was obviously feeling generous today, Freddie thought—and Cheryl had scored a 6.5. She surely would have beaten Les if she hadn't fallen. Now she'd have to step it up and try harder stuff just to catch up.

  Steve was next. Freddie watched with his fingers crossed as Steve headed down the halfpipe. Steve looked nervous heading into his first move. But once he got into the air, he led with his waist, just as Freddie had taught him, and landed a 360° turn. It was the hardest move in Steve's bag of tricks, and he'd done it perfectly!

  Now he moved with more confidence, more relaxation. “Shifty,” Eric announced as Steve wiggled his board from side to side in midair. “Method… method… and a stalefish,” he said as Steve twisted right, reaching around with his left hand to grab the left rear side of the board. He landed with a wobble and then skidded into the fence that protected the spectators. “Let's give him a hand for that outstanding performance!” Eric said. “Steve Myers—that's an 8.5, a 7.0, and a 6.0, with an overall score of 7.25!”

  Steve pumped his arms in the air. For one brief shining moment, at least, he was in first place—the king of the world. Freddie grinned, feeling great for Steve. “That's my boy!” he shouted, applauding and whistling. “Go, Steve!”

  It was Veronica McBride's turn now. Veronica had always been an outstanding athlete. She was on Freddie's baseball team, and she was the best first baseman in the league. She was tied for third in home runs and first in stolen bases. All-star all the way. She was not a bad snowboarder either, and she'd been at it for only two years.

  “Nose grab… tail grab… lien air…” Eric's voice echoed up to Freddie. “And a full three-sixty!”

  “Man, she's good,” said Paul Pierog, the number-two ranked boarder whom they'd invited to join the contest when Dondi quit. Paul was an eighth-grader and had to be at least six feet tall. He played center for the basketball team and was also captain of the chess team. Sort of an athletic brainiac, Freddie mused. A nice kid, too, and he did some beautiful moves. A sky-high 360°, a combo method/shifty, and a nose grab/tail grab, among others. He ended with an overall 8.75. Pretty good.

  Paul's run would have made anything Dondi could do look pathetic, Freddie thought, sighing. But Freddie knew he himself could beat Paul's run with even a half-decent performance.

  Adrenaline shot through Freddie's system when he heard Eric call his name and number. He slid straight down the halfpipe, gathering speed for his first jump. Launching high into the air, he twisted into a full 360° turn, grabbing the nose of his board at the same time. So high had he gone that he could have done an extra half turn.

  And that was exactly what he did next—an incredible 540°! He landed smoothly, hearing the roar of the crowd from below. He had lost hardly any speed, and now on the spur of the moment he decided to try something he'd never done before—two complete turns. A 720°! Why not? he reasoned. Who cared if he fell? Clarissa wasn't there to see it. Neither was Dondi, or his parents.

  Freddie crouched down a little as he approached the top of the wall and sprung into the twist just as he caught air. The ground below him spun as he turned at top speed, once around, then twice! He hit the slope hard but managed to stay on his board. Two final grab moves completed his incredible run, and he skidded to a stop, his fist pumping high over his head.

  “… for an incredible 9.5 overall, folks!” Eric was yelling.

  Freddie felt the exhilaration for only a moment. Then he remembered that it was all for nothing, and his shoulders slumped.

  Then he saw his parents watching him with pride plastered all over their smiling faces. He went over to them and gave them each a big hug. “How'd you know about this?” he asked.

  “Some big secret,” Aida said. “Your friends calling all the time, leaving messages. The article in the newspaper.”

  “We're so proud of you, son,” his father said, hugging him.

  “It's the new board,” Freddie said. “Thanks again, you guys.”

  “We're so glad we got it for you,” his mom said.

  Then Eric's voice came through the megaphone again. “Time for the second and final run, everyone. Boarders, take your positions.”

  “I'd better get going,” Freddie said.

  “Good luck, son,” Esteban said, waving after him.

  The second run went much like the first. Freddie, who was feeling loose as a goose, added all kinds of flourishes to his second run and finished far ahead of the competition.

  Afterward, when Eric presented him with the trophy, Freddie held it aloft to show the crowd. He smiled and waved his thanks as they applauded him. But inside, he felt emptier than ever. Without Dondi in the competition, it was a hollow triumph.

  As he followed his parents back to the lodge, he caught sight of Dondi, talking with Nate and Brad—and Clarissa. Freddie felt the lump rise in his throat and he beat his trophy against his thigh in frustration.

  “What's the matter, Freddie?” his mother asked, her brow furrowed anxiously.

  “Nothing. It's nothing,” Freddie muttered. “Let's just get out of here, okay?” he asked, tucking his board under his arm and trudging toward the exit, not looking behind him even once.

  Dondi did not come home in the car with them. He was going to get a ride with Clarissa's parents—Dondi was taking her to the movies at the mall.

  All night long, Freddie lay in bed, watching the TV but not really paying attention. His mind was on Dondi and Clarissa. Right about now, they'd be sitting in the movie theater… in the dark… and Dondi would be sneaking his arm around her shoulders….

  When Dondi finally got home, he was in a mood to rub it in. This day, which was supposed to be the day of Freddie's triumph, had turned into a day of absolute, total misery.

  “Hey, squirt!” Dondi said, poking his head into the bedroom. “Bedtime so early?”

  “Shut up,” Freddie muttered.

  “Excuse me? I didn't hear you,” Dondi said, coming in. “Would you like to say that real loud, so Mami and Papi can hear you?”

  “I said shut up!” Freddie said, raising his voice just enough but not too much.

  “Ooh, Freddie's feeling cranky tonight,” Dondi said, smiling mischievously. “Maybe I can cheer you up. Want to hear about the movie we saw? Me and Clarissa?”

  “Jerk!” Freddie spat out. “I hate you!”

  “Aw, shucks, brother,” Dondi said. “That's not very sporting of you. And I heard you were quite the sport today. King of the halfpipe peewee league, huh? Got a big plastic trophy too, I see. Very nice.” Dondi picked up the trophy and tossed it from hand to hand.

  “Get your hands off it!” Freddie leapt up out of bed and yanked the trophy from Dondi's grasp.

  “Touchy, touchy,” Dondi said, backing up a step. “Sorry I spoiled your big day,” he said. “But Papi is right, you know. Brothers shouldn't compete. It's immature.”

  “Oh, so you're the mature one now,” Freddie said. “You don't compete. Not much. Tell me you didn't go after Clarissa just because you guessed I liked her.”

  “Me? Would I do a thing like that?” Dondi asked, batting his eyes innocently.

  “You know you did,” Freddie said.

  “Well, maybe I did and maybe I didn't,” Dondi said. “You'll never know, will you? But I'll tell you one thing—even if I broke up with her tomorrow, she'd never go out with you. 'Cause she knows what you're really all about.”

  “Get out of my room!” Freddie shouted. “Papi, Mami, he's in my room! Get him out of here before I kill him!”

  “I'm going, I'm going,” Dondi said. “Don't be such a sore loser, squirt. She just likes me better than you, that's all.”

  Before Freddie could say anything, Dondi was out the door. Freddie pulled the blankets over his head and fought back the tears. He was going to get even with Dondi, one way or another. No way was he about to let his brother get off so easily.

  In fact, Freddie knew exactly what he was going to do next. He was going to take up downhill boarding. If the past was any indication, before long he'd be better than Dondi at it. And this time, Dondi wouldn't be able to run away from the competition.

  12

  On Sunday night it snowed. Boy, did it snow—eight powdery inches by Monday morning, when the sun finally came back out. “Yes!” Freddie said, looking out the window. A radio announcement confirmed that school had been canceled for the day. “I've got to go outside and do some street boarding!”

  “Out of my way, dork!” Dondi said, racing past him to the coat closet. The boys jostled each other, reaching for their coats, gloves, hats, scarves, and ski boots. But the jostling was good-natured for once—the sight of all that fresh snow had banished all bad thoughts from their heads. Then it was a headlong sprint for the garage to grab their boards.

  “We'll be able to shove off right out the garage door!” Dondi said gleefully. The Ruizes' driveway ran downhill, and their street dropped off to the right. There would be no cars out on the back streets for at least a few precious hours because the plows would be busy cleaning up the main roads.

  “I'm going to run by Steve's house,” Freddie said. Steve lived just around the corner.

  “Okay, I'll follow you,” Dondi said, lifting the garage door and strapping on his board.

  Freddie whooshed out of the garage into the powdery snow. He and Dondi had the street totally to themselves. There was not a track or a footprint anywhere. “Whooooo!” Freddie shouted as powder flew everywhere. The wind stung his face, and the sun shone brightly off the snow. Behind him, he could hear Dondi yelling happily at the top of his lungs.

  Freddie skidded to a stop in front of Steve's house, sending a sky-high shower of snow into the air. Steve must have seen him because he threw open the front door and called, “I'll be right there!”

  A few minutes later, the three were boarding all over the streets of Crestview. They struggled to climb up the hills but it was well worth it coming back down.

  The three boys stopped by a railing at the entrance to Ridge Park.

  “Hey. Let's board the park!” Steve said, looking through the bars of the railing.

  “Yeah,” Dondi said, “we could go down the embankment.” He pushed off through the open gate with Steve right behind him.

  Freddie followed them into the park, amazed at what a good snowfall could do. It was as if the whole slate between him and Dondi had suddenly been wiped clean, as if their problems had been covered over with a fresh layer of pure, white, unspoiled snow.

  All their fights were forgotten, all their grudges forgiven. They were friends again, and brothers too. Even Dondi and Steve were getting along!

  Freddie should have known it was too good to last. At that very moment, he heard a familiar pair of voices calling, “Dondi! Yo, man, over here!”

  Nate Sherman and Brad Forest came zooming up to the three boys. “Hey, Dondi,” Nate said. “Fancy meeting you here.” He looked at Freddie and Steve. “I see you brought the junior brigade.”

  “You babysitting today?” Brad asked him.

  Dondi looked embarrassed. “I was just leading Hansel and Gretel here into the heart of the woods,” he joked.

  Nate and Brad laughed. “Watch out they don't have any bread crumbs to find their way home,” Brad said.

  Freddie stood there, taking it all in. He glanced at Steve, who seemed equally at a loss for words.

  “This beats halfpipe any day,” Dondi said. “I told the squirt it was better, but he didn't believe me. Did you?”

  Freddie's eyes narrowed as he stared back at Dondi. “You're a total chicken, Dondi. You quit that contest because you knew I could beat you. Downhill had nothing to do with it.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Dondi said, strutting for his eighth-grade friends. “You want to see who's chicken?”

  “Anytime!” Freddie shot back.

  “Freddie,” Steve said, a note of caution in his voice.

  Freddie ignored him. “You want a downhill race, you've got it, punk!”

  “Oh, I'm a punk? Well, you're a squirt. King of the halfpint, oh, I mean pipe.” Dondi shared a mean-spirited laugh with Nate and Brad. “Okay, shorty. We'll see who's a punk. You and me, one on one—down Devil's Ravine!”

  Freddie gasped. “Devil's Ravine? Are you out of your gourd?”

  “Wooo-hooo!” Nate cheered. “All right! The little guy's scared now!”

  “Busted! In your face, shorty!” Brad said, piling it on.

  “Who's a chicken now, punk?” Dondi said, his face only inches from Freddie's.

  Freddie stared back at Dondi. Why was Dondi doing this crazy thing? Just to impress those two gorillas? “Dondi…” he said falteringly.

  “Come on, come on. Are you in or out?” Dondi demanded.

  Freddie was silent, searching Dondi's eyes. Dondi wasn't as good a boarder as Freddie, and both of them knew it. If they went through with this dare, Dondi might end up in the hospital—or even worse!

  He saw fear in Dondi's eyes then. Dondi didn't want to do this any more than he did. But then why had he even brought it up?

  Suddenly Freddie understood. Dondi had set a clever trap for him. He had dared him to board down Devil's Ravine, sure that Freddie would say no. When he did, Dondi would be off the hook—he'd never have to brave the dangerous slope, and Freddie would look like the one who was chicken.

  “Dondi,” Freddie said in a voice that was almost a whisper, “it's stupid to do something so dangerous. Neither of us is a good-enough downhill boarder yet.”

  “Keep those excuses coming,” Dondi said. He gave Nate and Brad a triumphant smile. “Now we know who's afraid and who's not.”

  “I'm not afraid!” Freddie insisted.

  “'I'm not afraid!'” Dondi mimicked him in a frightened voice.

  “Say what you want, I'm not doing it.” Freddie stood firm. “I promised Papi.”

  “Baby promised his papi!” Dondi said in a baby voice. Nate and Brad howled with laughter, slapping Dondi on the back.

  “Come on, Freddie,” Steve said. “Let's get out of here. We don't need to be around these losers.”

  Freddie nodded and followed Steve as he pushed off. The taunts followed them.

  “You did the right thing,” Steve told him when they next stopped for a rest. “It's not worth anyone getting hurt over.”

  “I hate that Dondi,” Freddie replied, swallowing hard.

  “Never mind him,” Steve advised. “Like you said, he's a punk. My dad always says if you want to know what somebody's like, take a look at who their friends are.” He grinned at Freddie and winked.

  Freddie laughed at the thought of it. He had great friends—Steve, Eric, and lots of others. Dondi was stuck with Nate Sherman and Brad Forest. What good were they?

  He felt sorry for Dondi, suddenly. It was kind of pathetic, the way he'd put out that dare just to impress those two jerks.

  “Yeah, I guess I did do the right thing,” Freddie said, shaking his head with a smile of satisfaction.

  When he heard about it the next day, Eric agreed wholeheartedly. “Going down Devil's Ravine would have been a big mistake,” he said in the cafeteria. “Being seriously injured is no fun. Take it from one who knows, okay?”

  Freddie could only imagine what Eric went through every day of his life, ever since that day the car had hit him. No, it wouldn't have been worth it, taking that risk.

  They went on to talk about other things. “The whole school knows about you winning the contest,” he told Freddie. “But unfortunately, a lot of them are saying it was rigged. The best boarders hadn't taken part—Nate Sherman, Brad Forest, Dondi…”

  “Dondi? They're saying he's one of the best boarders?” Freddie asked in surprise.

  “A couple of people said that,” Eric confirmed. “Hey, he hangs out with Brad and Nate, so I guess the reputation rubs off.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Now don't go getting any ideas,” Eric warned him.

  “I could make it down that ravine,” Freddie said coolly.

  “Maybe you could,” Eric said. “But it's not worth taking the chance. Anyway, your brother would wipe out for sure. He might really get hurt. You know about those other poor kids–”

  “I know, I know. That's why I turned it down,” Freddie said.

  Just then, Clarissa walked by their table. “Hi, Eric,” she said with a smile. Then the smile vanished. “Hi, Freddie.” She continued on her way—right to Dondi's table, where she gave him a dazzling smile.

  Freddie saw red. Everything Dondi had ever done to him crystallized in that one instant. His promise to his father flew right out of his head. His good feelings toward Dondi disappeared. His healthy fear of Devil's Ravine was gone. So everyone thought the contest had been rigged, huh? That the best boarders hadn't even competed? He'd show them!

  When Dondi got up to dump his trash, Freddie grabbed his arm. “You're on,” he said coldly.

  “Huh?” Dondi turned to face him. “What did you say?”

  “I said you're on. Devil's Ravine. You and me. Mano a mano. ”

  Dondi blinked in shock. His jaw dropped.

  “What's the matter, Dondi?” Freddie said. “Not up to your own dare?”

  Dondi's face hardened. He pointed a finger at Freddie and said, “You want it? You got it. Only one of us is gonna win this time, squirt.”

  13

  Freddie sped down the slope, out of control and at top speed. The rock just ahead was coming straight at him, as fast as a speeding car. He tried to get an edge, to steer the board away from the half-hidden boulder. But it was impossible. He started to scream just before he slammed into it!

  Freddie awoke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed. Sweat was pouring down his face, and he was gasping for breath. Had it really been only a dream?

  It had seemed so real. Freddie had never been to Devil's Ravine in winter, but he'd hiked there in summer once. It was a steep drop between two hillsides with several spots that would be good jumpoff points.