"That's varsity," says Mark.
"You kiddin' me? You made varsity?"
Poughkeepsie Kris has gotten the word. He comes down the hall, his head down, his face a mask of anger and disappointment. He looks at the list briefly and then heads into the adjoining boys locker room.
Next comes Damon. He's afraid to look. "Am I on it?" he asks a friend. "No, I know I'm not on it." He walks up, studies the list for a moment and then steps into the locker room. Inside, Damon and the starting point guard, Maury, try to console Poughkeepsie Kris. "You got all year to work on it, man," Maury tells him. "Next year, you come back, it'll be your year to shine."
"That's right, Kris, you still got a year, man," says Damon. There will be no next year at Coatesville for Damon.
Eric comes down the hall alone. He approaches with the same grim determination he showed standing on the sideline during all those intramural sessions. Eric does not dress in baggy jeans like the other boys. He has on straight-legged pants and a sweater. He stands at the back of the crowd around the list, craning for a look. "Let me see," he says.
"You ain't got to see," says one boy, teasing. "You cut, man."
Eric leans in, blushes and then turns to walk away.
"No, no, wait, E!" shouts Ty, pushing clear of the crowd, chasing Eric with his hand outstretched. "You did good, E. You did good."
Ty stops, hand still outstretched, as Eric walks slowly away without turning back.