The Crossover

The Bet, Part Two

IF. I. LOSE.

THE. BET.

YOU. WANT. TO.

WHAT?

If the score gets tied, he says, and

if it comes down to the last shot, he says, and

if I get the ball, he says, and

if I don’t miss, he says,

I get to cut off

your hair.

Sure, I say, as serious

as a heart attack.

You can cut my locks off,

but if I win the bet

you have to walk around

with no pants on

and no underwear

tomorrow

in school

during lunch.

Vondie

and the rest

of the fellas

laugh like hyenas.

Not to be outdone,

JB revises the bet:

Okay, he says.

How about if you lose

I cut one lock

and if you win

I will moon

that nerdy group

of sixth-graders

that sit

near our table

at lunch?

Even though I used to be one of those nerdy sixth-graders,

even though I love my hair the way Dad loves Krispy Kreme,

even though I don’t want us to lose the game,

odds are this is one of JB’s legendary bets I’ll win,

because

that’s a lot of ifs.