Read The Losers Club Page 13


  That was the day Dave Hampton finally deserted Kent Blair. He arrived at Alec’s table with three other kids, two girls and a boy, all of them fed up with losing.

  One of the girls, Allie Shepard, explained it simply. “Like, with kickball? Three new teams got picked fresh every afternoon, so it always looked fair—except it never was. Because whoever got first pick? They always chose Kent, because he’s awesome—so much better than anybody else. Then all Kent’s team ever needed was a couple more decent players, and they killed!”

  Dave smiled at Alec. “Kinda funny, huh? I didn’t want to join the Losers Club, and for a month now I’ve been a loser almost every day—unless I got onto Kent’s team. So I’m ready for something else, at least for a while. But…can I sit somewhere that’s not close to my little sister?”

  Alec had been ignoring Kent as much as possible—and succeeding…most of the time. And really, after his five days of sitting with the Losers Club, Kent had been teasing him a lot less.

  But even without much contact with Kent, Alec couldn’t help noticing how things had changed over in the sports corner. For one thing, the growth at the Losers Club and a couple other clubs had reduced the number of kids in Active Games. And with the sudden departure of Dave and his three friends, that left only fourteen kids playing games now—barely enough for two small teams.

  Also, just like Dave and his friends, Mr. Jenson had not liked the way Kent’s team had ruled the kickball scene. So he had put the kickballs away and passed out the Wiffle ball equipment.

  That meant Kent was no longer the king of kicks. Now he was the wizard of Wiffle. Alec had watched him crouched over home plate with that long yellow bat, watched him take a swing and connect—crack! Perfect form, quick hands, terrific follow-through. He looked like a big-league hitter. And like before, Kent’s team was always called the Champs—which they were, day after day.

  More like the Chumps—or the Chimps!

  Alec smiled at his own cleverness, but then quickly squashed those thoughts. He was trying to do less name-calling—which was difficult.

  One nice thing about Wiffle ball? No matter how hard Kent slugged it, that light plastic ball never got anywhere near the club tables.

  When Alec walked into the gym on the afternoon of Wednesday, October 8, instead of going to his table, he went toward the supplies closet along the back wall.

  Mr. Willner was sitting at his small worktable, writing in a notebook, but he looked up and saw Alec coming.

  “Hey—how’s it going?” Mr. Willner asked.

  “Good, things are good. But we need another table.”

  “Great—except I’m kind of busy here for a half hour or so. I’ll help if you want to wait—or if you can find someone else to help, just go and roll one over from the cafeteria. But remember how heavy those tables are—take it slow and be careful.”

  “Okay,” Alec said, and he pretty much made up his mind to wait.

  But just then he heard the sharp crack of a bat against a Wiffle ball. He looked, and it was Kent—of course. He was getting some batting practice while he waited for the rest of the kids to show up.

  Alec smiled a little, and he thought, Why not? And then he trotted down the long third base line, all the way to home plate.

  “Hey, Kent—I’ve got a job that’s gonna need someone with real muscles….You know anybody like that?”

  Kent straightened up and let a pitch whiz past. “Yeah—you’re lookin’ at him! What’s the job?”

  “I have to go roll another club table over here from the cafeteria—you in?”

  Kent narrowed his eyes, looking for a jab, looking to see if Alec was trying to tease him about the Losers Club getting bigger as Active Games got smaller. But he didn’t see anything like that, because it wasn’t there. Alec was just asking the strongest kid he knew for some help.

  So Kent said, “Sure—let’s go,” and the two of them walked out of the gym.

  After they’d turned the first corner, Kent said, “I noticed that you’ve got an excellent crop of losers comin’ along back there.”

  Alec shrugged. “Yeah, kids keep showing up. Who knew? And remember those three gabby girls from when you were there? They got some of their friends to join up, and that whole bunch got so noisy that Mrs. Case had to step in and snap her whip at them.”

  That wasn’t exactly how things had happened, but it made a better story.

  When they got to the cafeteria, Alec tried to get Luke’s attention…and failed. Luke had rejoined his animation group, and he sat bent over his iPad, rocking back and forth a little as he typed on a Bluetooth keyboard, lost in Code Land. But the Mini Losers were still going strong without him, and Alec noticed that both of the club’s tables were nearly full.

  The wide rubber wheels of the folded cafeteria table rolled smoothly on the tile floor, but the thing was awkward and very heavy—and Alec realized how much of the work Mr. Willner had done when they had moved that second table together.

  Alec said to Kent, “You want to push the back or steer the front?”

  “Steer,” he said.

  The trip back to the gym seemed twice as far, and when they turned the last corner, Alec said, “Can we stop for a sec?”

  “What’s the matter—tired?” said Kent, and Alec heard the taunt in his voice.

  He ignored it and said, “Yes—very tired, and hot and thirsty, too. Not everyone is a superman, y’know.”

  Alec sat on the floor and leaned his back against the lockers. The coolness of the metal felt great.

  Kent came and stood in front of him. “You should really do some regular conditioning, you know that?”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” And Alec wasn’t kidding. He felt pretty winded. “I’ll be good to go—just give me a minute or so.”

  “No problem—take all the time you need.” Kent sat down a few feet away. Then he said, “Back when I lost that bet? I left your club table before you got back from the homework thing…and I wanted to tell you that those Hatchet books? Completely amazing. I couldn’t stop till I finished the whole series.”

  Alec said, “I believe it! They’re all great. I just finished Brian’s Hunt for the first time last week—really good. And how about the LeBron book? Pretty cool, huh?”

  Kent nodded. “Very cool!”

  Alec was about to keep talking about LeBron, but he could tell Kent wanted to say something else. Kent hunched his shoulders forward and stuck out his chin, and Alec tensed up, not sure what was coming.

  Kent spoke slowly. “So…I guess you knew my mom and dad got divorced, right? I figured you must’ve known—since you made me read Hatchet first.”

  As the meaning of Kent’s question sank in, Alec felt like his lungs were collapsing, like a boulder had landed on his chest and all he could do was keep exhaling.

  Because ever since fourth grade, he had been reading Hatchet just for the action, for the sheer adventure of it all. But divorce? Divorce was a big part of the story, a huge part of the main character’s thoughts and feelings! And the kid was torn up about it. And to think what reading about that must have been like for Kent—especially if he believed Alec had made him read the book because of that? Alec wished he could slide down and vanish under the floor tiles.

  He gulped hard. “I didn’t know that—and…and I’m sorry to hear it. And, like, if I had known? I would never have made you—”

  Kent interrupted, “No, it’s not a problem—and it was good to read all of it. But I’m glad you picked Hatchet because you liked the book, and that you didn’t pick it because you hated me.”

  Alec wasn’t sure how this was going to sound, but he said it anyway. “I don’t think I’ve ever really hated you….I just hated how you tease me.”

  Kent nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Anyway, I wanted to tell you I liked those books, no matter what.” Then he stood up. “You ready? I’ll push the rest of the way. I’ve got to get back and choose up teams.”

  “Yeah, I’m ready—give
me a lift.”

  Alec put out a hand, and Kent pulled him to his feet.

  They didn’t talk again until they were three-fourths of the way across the gym.

  Kent said, “So, where do want this beast?”

  “Twenty feet down the wall from the second one…like…right about here. Good. I’m gonna get Mr. Willner to help fold it down, so that’s it. Thanks a lot.”

  “No problem. I’ll help you with your next three tables, too. And if you want, come over and play some Wiffle ball—I’ll school you, big-time! You might even get into shape someday.”

  Alec grinned. “And if you ever want to give your massive muscles a break, come on over and sit down—we’ll save a spot for you. In fact, we’re gonna put a bronze plaque at our table where you used to sit, just so everyone knows how cool we really are!”

  They both laughed at that.

  Then Kent said, “And listen, tell your little brother I’m sorry, okay? The day after you kicked that home run, I shoved him against the wall—it was a cheap shot.”

  “Yeah, I’ll tell him.”

  “Good.” Then Kent looked sideways at him. “I’m prob’ly still gonna keep calling you a bookworm, y’know. Because it’s totally what you are!”

  Alec shrugged. “Go ahead, say it all you want—won’t bother me a bit.”

  “Oh, yeah? That’s new. How come?”

  “Because it takes one to know one!”

  Kent laughed, then gave him a quick punch on the arm, which didn’t tickle.

  But to Alec? It felt pretty good.

  The third table was going to be a semi-quiet table—which was why he and Kent had put it twenty feet away from the loud kids. Alec still had mixed feelings about having so many kids in the club, but at least now they could spread out.

  There were six kids at the chatty table at the moment. They had gotten more focused on actual reading since Mrs. Case had stepped in to help, but she only stopped to talk with them once or twice a week. And unless she happened to be right there with them? Noise—happy, mostly productive noise, but still, noise. Which was the main reason Lily had switched back to the quiet table as soon as the group had finished with Sarah, Plain and Tall.

  Once the third table was in place and all the kids were getting themselves sorted out, Alec took his regular spot at the table in the corner. He was getting close to the end of a new book—or rather, a book that was new to him.

  It was one of his mom’s old paperbacks, Julie of the Wolves. The main character was an Eskimo girl who’d had to run away from her village. The book reminded him of Hatchet, except the main character started out much more tuned in to nature than Brian had been. And the way this girl had to learn how to live with the wolves reminded Alec of The Call of the Wild. His mom really wanted him to read this book, and he liked it pretty much…but the minute he was done, he wanted to go right back and read those other two favorites—again.

  The other day Nina had pointed at Julie of the Wolves and said, “I noticed you reading that. I wasn’t sure you’d like it.”

  “Yeah? How come?”

  “Because of…the girl stuff—y’know?”

  Alec felt himself start to blush a little. He knew what Nina meant—some parts of the story were definitely about Julie being a girl.

  All he’d said back to her was “Well, yeah. But it’s mostly a great adventure story.”

  Nina had ended the conversation by saying, “Anyway, it’s cool that you’re reading it—I think some guys might not even pick it up.”

  That was one of the things he liked about Nina—she had a way of saying stuff that made him feel good, that made him feel like he wasn’t a bookworm…or a loser. And more and more, it felt like she liked him. As a boy. And also just as a friend.

  He made a mental note, reminding himself to thank his mom for making him read this book!

  He opened to his bookmark and jumped back into the frozen world of the girl and her wolves—or rather, the wolves and their girl.

  He’d been reading for five minutes or so when he felt the table move. Alec knew it was Nina reaching for her book bag, knew it without looking.

  But he did look, and she noticed him looking. Three kids sat reading between them—Jason, Lily, and one of the newer boys, Eliot. Nina just smiled, then gave him a little wave.

  Alec smiled and waved back—and during that simple action, he was seized by an overpowering feeling, a sudden tightness in his chest that flooded his mind with a wish. With all his heart, he wanted to freeze this exact moment and always remember it…the way he felt so connected and separate…and happy and sad…and smart and stupid—all at the same time.

  Starting the club had brought so many new experiences crashing into his life, and Alec had noticed something about books that he had never seen before, something pretty basic: Books stay the same.

  The beginning, the middle, and—out there, pages and pages in the future—the end. The whole book stays put, right there all the time, always the same, with the words perfectly lined up one after another, waiting. Books were so dependable—so orderly. Then he thought, And so totally unlike real life.

  And the perfect example of that? Nina.

  Nina had a beginning—the day he’d met her.

  And Nina had a middle—all the stuff since then, swirling around like the dry leaves out on the playground.

  So was there an end somewhere, an end to the story of Alec and Nina? Or was the whole story just fiction?

  Real life is so…messy.

  That’s what Alec said to himself. And instantly, a question formed.

  But if the messiness makes me feel like this, then it’s worth it, right?

  He didn’t have an answer to that. So he just pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  And then he turned back to his book.

  Five days later, on Monday afternoon, the members of the Losers Club who sat at the talky table stood up and came over to the quiet table. And then three kids from the semi-talky table arrived, too. A girl named Reese had apparently been appointed as the spokesperson.

  “Um, Alec? Can we change the name of the club?”

  He was reading Fahrenheit 451. His dad had told him it was Ray Bradbury’s greatest novel—about a time in the future when it was against the law to even own a book. Alec was so deep inside the story that he had barely heard the girl.

  “What?”

  Reese repeated the question.

  “Change the name?” Alec stared at her. “Why?”

  “Well,” Reese went on, “you know how next Monday is the open house for Extended Day? And all our parents are going to be here? And everybody in the whole school?”

  “Yeah…so?” Alec said.

  A new member named Harrison blurted out, “So I don’t want my dad to think that I’m in a club for losers!”

  The others nodded.

  Alec looked from face to face. “Is that what you think? That this is a club for losers? That you’re losers?”

  Julia Hampton said, “Well…no. But the name says we are!”

  More nodding.

  Julia added, “And Mrs. Case thinks it’s a good idea to change the name, too. Last time she read with us, she said it’d be wonderful to have a nicer name. For the open house.”

  Alec thought, Mrs. Case—I should have guessed!

  It had been great of her to help the chatty kids get focused—and it had certainly saved him the trouble of figuring out how to deal with them. But Mrs. Case had disliked the name of the club right from the start.

  Lily piped up, “Well, I like the name—it’s…original!”

  Then Jason said, “Yeah—what’s the big deal?”

  Alec wished that Nina was here to back him up, too. But she wasn’t. She had told him that since she’d put Kent in his place, she felt like it was okay now to get some exercise before she sat down to read—not every day, but once in a while. And today she was over at the Wiffle ball diamond taking a few at-bats.

  “Besides,” Rees
e said, “what are we even going to do for the open house? Everybody else is doing stuff—like, the Chinese Club? They made up a play. And us? We’ve got nothing. And now practically the whole school is gonna be here. We’ve got to do something! And change the name, too!”

  Alec stared at Reese for a long moment.

  This is my club, and I’m in charge of it, and if you don’t like the name, then quit and go start some club of your own—maybe call it the Wonderful Winners Club…or how about the We-Hope-You-Think-We’re-So-Amazing Club! You know what? I think maybe all of you are losers! And cowards, too! And I think maybe I should kick all of you out of my club! You’re acting like a bunch of…of bookworms—spineless bookworms!

  That’s what Alec shouted inside his head—and then he was shocked that he would use the same label that had always been thrown at him: bookworm.

  He needed time to think. And he really wanted to talk to Nina.

  But then he thought, No—it was my idea to start the club, and I can figure this out on my own. Besides, this is about the open house, and I promised Nina she wouldn’t have to deal with that at all.

  Of course, some kind of book report was not going to work…which had been his original cop-out to avoid talking about the stupid open house. The Losers Club had more members than any other club, more kids than the entire Active Games Program! And if he couldn’t come up with a decent presentation before next Monday night, they were all going to look like lumps—and he would be the biggest lump of all.

  Alec pulled out a sheet of paper and a pencil. “Write down your email addresses, and see if you can get me the addresses of the rest of the kids, too…please. And I’ll get back to everybody with something tonight, okay?”

  They did as he asked and drifted back to their reading spots, one after another. No one grumbled, but he could tell they weren’t happy about having to wait for an answer.

  Alec opened his book again, but he was still angry, and he kept reading the same paragraph over and over.