The gold cup.

Summer vacation was here at last!

Kids streamed out of classrooms and into the hall.

I caught a glimpse of my new neighbor. Chelsea Parks. in the hall up ahead and squeezed my way through the crowd until I caught up with her.

"Hi, Chelsea!" I said. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "My family's leaving on a trip to Hawaii first thing tomorrow morning. I've got to finish packing."

My mouth dropped open. "Wow! You must be really excited."

"I am," she said. "How about you, Jason? What are you going to do this summer?"

I grinned. "I'm going to enter the Silver Lake Bass-Fishing Contest."

"Oh. Well, that should be fun for you," she said.

I knew she was just being polite. She probably thought fishing was dumb. My other friends did, too. All they talked about was baseball and football.

I didn't care. I loved fishing. And I wanted to win the gold cup more than anything in the world. I'd been entering the contest ever since I was six, and because I had just turned twelve, this would be my last chance to win. I was determined to take home the gold cup this year.

The next morning, the sun was peeking over the treetops as I carried my fishing pole and tackle box to the lake behind my house. At first, I thought the beach was empty. But then I noticed Chelsea walking along the shore, kicking up splashes of water with her bare feet.

I dropped my gear and ran to meet her. "Hey, I thought you were leaving for Hawaii this morning," I said. When she looked up. I could tell she'd been crying.

"My dad had an emergency at work, Chelsea said.

"Gosh, that's too bad." I said. "Maybe you can go later this summer." Chelsea stared at her feel. "Maybe. But now I don't have anything to do for the next few weeks."

"I know what you can do!" I said. "You can enter the bass-fishing contest with me."

She shook her head. "No, thanks. I don't know anything about fishing. I'm no good at thins like that."

"I can teach you," I said. "We've got two weeks before the contest. Come on!" I coaxed. "It'll be fun."

"Well, OK," she said. "If you'll help me.

I knew Chelsea didn't have a chance of winning. But learning to fish would keep her busy for a while. And maybe being around all the people and the excitement at the contest would cheer her up.

I showed her how to use a reel and how to bait her line with a lure. "Now watch how I cast." I said.

I raised my pole and checked to make sure nothing was behind me. Then I flipped my wrist and threw out my line. When the line hit the water. I slowly reeled it in.

"You see"" I said. "It's easy. Now you try it."

Chelsea had a hard time getting the hang of it. Her line kept getting caught in the weeds or tangled in a knot. But she didn't give up. And I could tell she liked it.

After that, I brought an extra pole for Chelsea. We practiced every day for two weeks. And even though Chelsea tried awfully hard, she still wasn't very good at casting.

"Don't worry." I said. You don't have to be an expert. Just get your line into the water. and the fish will do the rest.

On the day of the contest. my dad and I picked up Chelsea and drove to Silver Lake. My heart was racing as we rabbed our fishing gear and headed down the long pier to the water.

Chelsea and I stood side by side olong the railing. When the whistle blew for the contest to start, we cast our lines into the water.

Chelsea's cast wasn't very good. Her line went just a few feet out and quickly drifted underneath the platform we were standing on. I didn't say anything. I didn't want to make her feel bad.

At first, nobody caught anything but little, tiny bass. Then a tall, red-headed boy brought in a four-pounder. It was a nice fish, but I wasn't about to give up. I knew that there were bigger bass than that one in the lake.

A few minutes later, I felt a tug on my line. I yanked my pole to set the hook and quickly reeled in the line. The fish was a big one! I held my breath as the judges weighed it. My bass weighed nearly seven pounds!

"Oh, Jason, that's wonderful!" Chelsea said, jumping up and down. "I think you're going to win."

"I hope you're right," I said as I slipped the fish into the cooler by the weighing stand.

Time was running out, and the other contestants weren't having much luck. Chelsea hadn't had a nibble all morning, yet she never complained. She was really a good sport.

There were only fifteen minutes left in the contest when I noticed a sharp jerk on Chelsea's line.

"Did you get one?" I said excitedly. Her pole was bent nearly in half.

"I think it's caught on something." she said, tugging at the line.

"No, I think it's a fish!" I said. "Bring it in easy."

She slowly reeled in her line, but then the fish leapt from the water, twisting and flipping to free itself.

"Don't let it get away, Chelsea!" I said. "Tighten your line a little. Easy... easy."

After a few minutes, the fish began to tire and Chelsea reeled it in. She had a hard time getting the fish out of the water, but the rules said I couldn't help her. When she finally lifted it over the railing, the crowd gasped. The bass was huge! It looked like a twelve-pounder!.

Chelsea had brought in the biggest bass ever caught at Silver Lake! She was the winner.

As I stared at the fish flopping on the pier, my stomach tightened into a knot. For years, I had dreamed of catching a giant bass like that one and winning the old cup. This year had been my last chance, and Chelsea had taken it away from me.

For an instant, I wanted to walk away and never speak to her again. But then I watched her face as the judges weighed her fish and slipped it into the cooler. Her eyes were dancing, and her smile was brighter than the sun. I didn't know why, at first, but I found myself smiling back.

Soon a crowd of people gathered around Chelsea. She was laughing and talking and shaking hands with everyone. And then I realized that I was just as happy as she was. Chelsea deserved the gold cup. She was a good sport, and she beat me fair and square. There'd be other contests and other prizes. But I wouldn't find many friends as nice as Chelsea.

After a few minutes, the crowd broke up, and Chelsea walked over to meet me, her face looking serious.

"I wish both of us could have won, Jason," Chelsea said. "I didn't mean to beat you. It was just an accident. But I can't help being happy. And I owe it all to you."

"No," I said with a grin. "You owe it to that big bass you caught."