فصل دهم

chapter-10

“Andrew used to be your friend,” Kyle said to Miguel. “Maybe you could talk him into taking my place.” Kyle and Miguel were hanging out in the cafeteria, waiting for Sierra and Akimi to join them for their daily team meeting, something they’d been holding ever since Mr. Lemoncello announced his Library Olympics idea back in January.

“No way, bro,” said Miguel. “We need you.” “No, you don’t.”

“You’re our leader. El capitán.”

“But I shouldn’t be. Sure, I know how to play games. But I’m still not great at all the library stuff.” “And I’m not very good at games,” said Miguel. “And I haven’t read half as many books as Sierra. And I’m nowhere near as clever as Akimi. The team needs all four of us, bro.” “But have you seen some of these kids in the regional competitions? They’re amazing.” “Yeah. That girl Marjory up in Michigan sure knows her way around the stacks.” “That’s why you guys need Andrew Peckleman. He used to be your second-in-command on the library squad.” “I already told you: Ever since he was booted out of the escape game, Andrew Peckleman does not like libraries. Besides, he can’t practice with us after school, because he has a new job.” “What kind of job?” asked Kyle.

“He’s working afternoons and weekends at the motel that opened up last month across from Liberty Park. Some distant relative that Andrew and his parents didn’t even know they had owns the place. A great-uncle-twice-removed or something. He hired Andrew.” “Even though he’s only twelve?”

Miguel shrugged. “I guess when it’s family, it’s different.” “What’s Andrew do?”

“Sweeps. Makes sure the ice machine isn’t clogged. Fills the bird feeders.” “Bird feeders?”

“What can I say? Andrew’s uncle must love birds. He even named his motel the Blue Jay Extended Stay Lodge. Come on. Forget Andrew. We’re counting on you.” That was the problem. Kyle didn’t want to let his friends down. And he’d read Marjory Muldauer’s interview with her hometown newspaper online.

She was gunning for Kyle.

Kyle so wished he could switch places with Andrew, even if it meant sweeping up birdseed.

He hadn’t told any of his teammates, but in the six weeks since Mr. Lemoncello had announced his Library Olympic Games, Kyle felt a nervous fluttering in his stomach every time he played a board game against his brothers or fielded a riddle tossed at him by a school bus driver.

The pressure was intense.

Especially since Kyle had been on something of a losing streak—something else he hadn’t told Miguel or Akimi or Sierra. He hadn’t beaten his brothers on family game night once since January. Kyle had even lost the home version of the Escape from Mr. Lemoncello’s Library board game—to his mom. And Miguel had been playing with Kyle that time. True, Miguel had given Kyle some bad advice. (Flubber is the name of a Walt Disney movie starring Robin Williams, not a book by Judy Blume, which would be Blubber.) But Kyle was the one who had given the wrong answer.

The first game in Mr. Lemoncello’s library had been more like a scavenger hunt, something Kyle was good at. But these new Olympic Games were going to be about serious library topics, and Kyle would be playing against some serious library whiz kids.

Akimi and Sierra came into the otherwise empty cafeteria.

“Hey, guys,” said Akimi. “Sorry we’re late.” “Akimi was teaching me how to play that new Lemoncello video game where you squish all the different-colored jelly beans with a sledgehammer,” said Sierra. “I made it to level three.” Kyle nodded. “Jujitsu Jelly Jam.”

He didn’t mention that he’d already made it to level fifty-three. Friends didn’t gloat to friends.

“So what’re we doing today?” asked Akimi. “More rebus puzzles? Dewey decimal drills?” “First things first,” said Miguel, jerking his thumb at Kyle. “Our fearless leader here is getting cold feet.” “Wha-hut?” said Akimi.

“Kyle wants to quit.”

“I didn’t say I want to quit, Miguel.”

“Right. You just said you didn’t want to be on the team anymore. That you wanted Andrew Peckleman to take your place.” “Which,” said Akimi, “basically means you want to quit.” “I’m not a quitter,” said Kyle.

“Uh, yes, if you quit, you are,” said Akimi. “Sierra, correct me if I’m wrong.” “Sorry, Kyle,” said Sierra. “That’s the dictionary definition of ‘quitter,’ all right. ‘A person who quits or gives up easily, especially in the face of some difficulty or danger.’ ” “Snap,” said Miguel. “Sierra just gave you the four-two-three on quitters.” Kyle was confused. “The what?”

“The four-two-three,” said Akimi. “That’s where you can always find a dictionary of standard English in a library.” “Oh,” said Kyle. “Did not know that.”

“It was on last week’s study sheet,” said Miguel.

“Right. Sorry. Guess I should’ve studied it.” “Well, duh,” said Akimi. “That’s why we call them study sheets.” Kyle pretended to laugh, but deep down, he knew the truth: No matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to win every single game he played for the rest of his life. Sometimes the cards and the dice and the questions just didn’t go your way. Every chance for victory was another chance for defeat.

He didn’t belong in anybody’s Library Olympics.