Part of him wanted to stomp over to the origami table and yell at those kids for making this girl feel bad—or maybe get all tough with them, like the big brother in The Outsiders would do. He didn’t get to be a big brother much with Luke. A lot of the time it felt the other way around, like Luke was watching out for him.
So Alec smiled at her and said, “Listen, are you good at keeping secrets?”
Dead serious, she nodded, her eyes wide.
“Good,” he said, lowering his voice, “because I’ve got two important secrets to tell you. First of all, not being good at folding paper does not make anybody a loser. And second, the Losers Club is actually a secret club for kids who like to read, and it would be great if you would join.”
The way the girl’s face changed? For a second, Alec thought she might try to hug him. So he got very businesslike. “What’s your name?”
“Lily Allenby.”
“Okay,” he said, and he wrote it down on the inside cover of The Lightning Thief—it seemed like an official thing to do. “Go over and tell Mr. Willner that you’re joining the Losers Club, and then bring your stuff over here. Do you have a book you can read today?”
“Um…I…no, I don’t.” Her face started to fall apart.
“No problem,” Alec said. “I’ve got a copy of Charlotte’s Web in my backpack.”
Big smile. “I love that book!”
Alec smiled back. “Me too.”
As Lily hurried away, Nina arrived and sat down.
She nodded toward the girl and said, “What was that about?”
Alec said, “That’s Lily Allenby, and she’s joining the club—another escapee from the origami gang.”
Nina looked sideways at him. “I thought you were the guy who wanted to keep the club super small.”
“Yeah,” he said, “I still do. But she won’t take up much room. And she likes to read. It’ll be okay.”
He almost started to tell Nina what Lily had said, about feeling like a loser, and the way her face had looked when she’d said that. And he also kind of wanted to tell Nina how Lily had made him feel like he needed to step up and act like a big brother for her—maybe that was his own Olympian superpower!
But he decided not to say any of that. Nina seemed nice and everything…but he didn’t really know her very well. And besides, if she was going to be hanging out with Kent, it was probably best to keep his distance.
Because Kent was worth avoiding, and so were his friends.
The first Saturday after the first week of school was sunny and warm, and Alec wanted to just flop onto the old couch out on the shady screened porch and read all day long.
But that wasn’t going to happen. The letter from the principal had arrived on Friday, so bright and early Saturday morning, there was a meeting at the kitchen table.
His mom pointed at the letter in front of her. “This is a big problem, Alec. Mrs. Vance says she talked with you about your attitude and class participation, and what you have to do to improve, and about what’s going to happen if you don’t. And your dad and I want you to tell us what your plan is.”
“My plan?” he said, and as those two little words came out of his mouth, Alec realized that he had just used the wrong tone of voice—way too casual.
“Yes,” his dad snapped, “your plan, the plan you’re going to put into action so that you don’t ruin your whole family’s summer vacation—that plan!”
Alec squirmed a little, but he’d been thinking about the principal’s letter and this meeting since Tuesday, and he knew what he wanted to say. He also made sure that he sounded just as concerned as his mom and dad were, because he was.
“Well, I mean, it’s not like I have a big checklist or something. Mrs. Vance said it herself, that what I have to do is simple. I’ve got to completely stop trying to read during class, and I have to pay attention, and do my homework, and get good grades on my tests and quizzes. And that’s what I’m already doing—I am.”
It was a pretty good answer. His mom’s voice softened. “Really?” she asked. “You’re already doing that?”
Alec had evidence.
He pulled out three sheets of paper and slid them across the table, one at a time. “This is a social studies quiz from yesterday, a B-plus. And this is my first math quiz—eighty-eight percent correct. And here’s my spelling and vocabulary test from language arts—thirty-five words, all perfect. And you’ve seen me doing my homework every night, because I sit right here at the kitchen table.”
Alec didn’t dare to try doing homework in his bedroom—too many great books up there.
His dad turned over a stack of stapled paper, and Alec saw the bold print on the top sheet:
THE EXTENDED DAY PROGRAM
Parent and Student Handbook
His dad cleared his throat—he did that when he was nervous.
“At dinner the other night, when you told us about starting up an after-school reading club? It sounded good…but that was before we heard from the principal. I looked through this handbook again, and your mom and I want you to switch over to the Homework Room instead of doing the reading thing. You know how we’ve been concerned about your reading, especially the last two years. Books are great, but they shouldn’t be like a hideout. You need time for friends and other interests—maybe sports. So let’s think about that part, too, okay? And after we see your first-term grades, then maybe you could switch back to the reading club or something else back in the gym. And just like always, if your homework is finished, you’ll still have time at night for some reading at home.”
It took every scrap of Alec’s self-control to sit still in his chair. He wanted to jump to his feet and shout, Are you kidding? You want me to go right from a whole day of classes and then spend three hours locked up in a silent room with the Homework Police? I’d go crazy! Is that what you want—to drive me completely nuts?
And then he thought of Nina, there in the gym with Kent hanging around her every day. And what about Lily? Who would protect her from the jerks who were going to think she was a loser because she had joined his club? After she’d moved to his table Friday afternoon, he’d seen the way those kids in the Origami Club had looked at her.
All this flew through Alec’s mind in a second—but he knew his mom and dad. If he got mad, they would dig in hard, and their decision would be final. But what could he…?
The edge of an idea hit him. It was a long shot, but he had to try.
Looking into his dad’s face, and then into his mom’s, he said, “You know how in The Empire Strikes Back, when Luke has to go to Dagobah for his Jedi training with Yoda? That’s kind of where I am with this stuff. Mrs. Vance told me what I had to do. She gave me a mission, and I’m doing it exactly the way she said I should, and it’s working. And I feel like if I went to the Homework Room for extra help? It would be sort of like cheating—cheating myself. I got myself into this mess, and now I know what I have to do to get myself out of it. And that’s what I want to do.” He paused a moment. “Does that make sense to you guys?”
His mom and dad exchanged a quick look. Then his dad nodded at Alec and said, “It does make sense. And I’m proud of you for being serious about this.”
If someone had been handing out awards there in the Spencer family kitchen, Alec would have won three trophies instantly: Best Improvisation Under Pressure; Best Acting by a Child in a Bad Grades Drama; and Best Jedi Mind Trick Since “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.”
Alec thought he was home free.
Then his mom said, “It makes sense to me, too, Alec…but I still think you should switch into the Homework Room, maybe just for a month—until you’re really settled into the routine of putting your studies first.”
Alec almost started yelling again. And he almost launched into another performance to try to sway the emotions of his mom and dad. But instead, all that came out was the truth.
He looked right into his mom’s eyes. “I’m already putting my schoolwork fir
st. So making me go to the Homework Room? That isn’t going to help my grades any—it’ll just kill my club, which is the one place at Extended Day where somebody can just sit and read. I know I probably read too much…but a lot of kids hardly get any reading time at all—or time to just sit and think. And that’s what this club is about.”
Alec could see he was gaining ground, but he needed something else. “So how about if we make a weekly grade card…and it can say something like, ‘On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the best, how did Alec Spencer do with his schoolwork this week?’ And every Friday I’ll get one signed by every teacher, and if I ever get a score below an eight in any of my classes, then I have to go to the Homework Room. Okay?”
Again, his mom and dad exchanged looks.
His mom said, “That sounds fair. We’ll make up the forms, and we’ll look at your reports each Friday after dinner. And we’re also going to keep in close contact with Mrs. Vance.”
His dad added, “But if you start getting only eights on these weekly reports, we’ll have to talk about that, too—because you need to be doing your best work. So we should see some nines and tens in the mix, too, right?”
Alec nodded. “Right.” He smiled at his folks, a true smile, not a victory smile. “Thanks,” he said. “I’m really serious about this.”
As he said that last part, Alec wasn’t acting. His parents probably thought he just meant he was taking his studies seriously. But it was more than that.
He had come close to losing his place in his own club. And until that moment, he hadn’t known how much he cared about it. Sure, it was somewhere he could read for hours and hours, and he really loved that part. But it was starting to feel bigger than that. For one thing, he felt kind of responsible for Lily now. And then there was Nina. He knew he would have missed seeing her every afternoon. Plus, that table in the back corner of the gym? It was the one place at school where he could be his own boss, just be himself.
And no matter what was coming with the club, Alec felt like he had to be there. It was sort of like when he got pulled into a novel, the way he had to keep reading and reading—because that was the only way to find out what was going to happen next.
It felt like that—only…different.
After school on Monday, Alec hurried to the gym, checked in, and got himself settled at his table.
All day he had been sharply aware of the deal he’d made with his parents, aware that this coming Friday he was going to have to ask each of his teachers to rate his work for the week.
Feeling tempted to read during a class wasn’t a problem, not since his meeting with Mrs. Vance. But daydreaming was another matter. And twice during this long Monday, he’d started thinking about the Olympians and their superpowers—once during math and once in social studies. Fortunately, he’d caught himself before Mrs. Seward or Mrs. Henley had—which was amazing, considering where he had to sit. But sitting up front and being forced to pay attention did have one clear advantage: All the assignments and quizzes so far had seemed ridiculously easy.
Lily showed up at the club table a few minutes later, carrying a backpack that looked like it weighed about as much as she did.
She smiled and heaved the bag onto the table. “I wanted to be the first one here today, but you beat me!”
Alec smiled and said, “It’s not really a race.” He nodded at her backpack. “Looks like some serious homework tonight.”
“Nope,” she said. “I brought books!”
She zipped the pack open and began pulling them out: Shiloh; Because of Winn-Dixie; four different Wimpy Kid titles; Tuck Everlasting; Tales from a Not-So-Graceful Ice Princess; Bud, Not Buddy; Number the Stars, a Harry Potter book—the stack kept growing, at least twenty in all, and the last book she pulled out was her own copy of Charlotte’s Web, which looked a lot less worn than Alec’s.
“Great books,” he said, “a lot of my favorites!” He was about to tell Lily that she probably only needed to bring one or two at a time, but she was excited, and he didn’t want to pop her balloon. So he said, “If you want to keep some of those here, I can get a bin from Mr. Willner. Just make sure to write your name on all of them.” Then he asked, “Which one are you reading today?”
She picked up the Ice Princess book. “This one—I just got it!”
“Nice,” Alec said.
Lily settled onto a seat opposite Alec near the center of the table and then said, “I’ll be quiet now….I know you want to read.”
She was right, and he said, “Thanks.”
Alec had brought a collection of short stories by an author named Ray Bradbury. The book was new—or at least it was new to him. It had belonged to his dad back when he was in eighth grade. And it was science fiction, like a lot of the books his dad loved.
He got it out of his backpack, and the slightly yellowed pages of the old paperback opened by themselves to a story called “All Summer in a Day.”
Alec started to read, and just as his dad had promised, Bradbury’s writing grabbed him and didn’t let go. The story took place at a school on the planet Venus. All the kids were excited because, for the first time in their lives, the sun was going to shine in the sky for a whole day. There was a girl named Margot who had been born on Earth and could still remember what sunshine was like, and how wonderful it was, and she kept talking about it, and the other kids got jealous and started hating her.
The ending of the story made Alec feel like he’d been punched in the stomach. He sat there, staring at the last sentence. He felt so sorry for Margot.
The story wasn’t long, so he flipped back and read the whole thing again. This time he noticed how totally he believed that these kids lived on Venus, and he noticed the way the writer made him feel how amazing plain old sunshine would seem to a kid who had never experienced it.
Then Alec remembered where he was—in the gym, sitting at his own club table. Lily was there reading…but Nina wasn’t. And it was already twenty minutes after three.
Maybe she had to go to the dentist. Or maybe she had to stay after class to work on math. Or maybe she decided to go get some help with that big social studies report that’s due in November. Or maybe she…
Alec made himself stop. After all, it wasn’t really any of his business where Nina was.
Then he saw her.
It took him a moment to process what was going on. Because Nina was in the far corner of the gym. And she was playing kickball. With Kent.
Kent was the pitcher, and as he rolled the ball toward her, he yelled instructions. She kicked it, really connected with the ball, but a kid just beyond second base caught it. They were only practicing, so Kent got the ball back and rolled another pitch to Nina. She was having a wonderful time with charming Kent—the kid who had teased him ever since second grade.
Lots of laughing, lots of action and joking around and talking in Kickball Land.
And where am I?
Alec answered his own question.
I’m over here in the corner, reading sad science fiction and babysitting Lily.
The hand-lettered name card was right there on the table in front of him, and it lined up perfectly with his view of the scene at the kickball diamond:
THE LOSERS CLUB
And as Nina booted another pop fly and then ran out and smacked a big high five with Kent, Alec thought, Yup—the name fits.
Just when he thought things couldn’t get worse? Off to his left, he heard the squeak, squeak of Mrs. Case’s running shoes, and then she was standing there, blocking his view of Nina.
She smiled briefly at Lily.
Then she said to Alec, “Mr. Willner told me that your club is already growing—that’s so nice! What book did the group decide to read first?”
Alec said, “We don’t do it that way—we each read whatever we want to.”
Mrs. Case frowned. “But I thought you would choose one book and then read it and have a discussion. Isn’t that how a book club works?”
Alec was i
n no mood to try to make Mrs. Case happy. “Some book clubs are like that. But this is just a club for kids who like to read—that’s what I wrote on the application form. So that’s what we’re doing.”
“Hmm.” Mrs. Case was quiet for a second. Then she said, “But if you’re all just sitting here reading by yourselves every day, it’s hard to imagine what you’ll do for your open house presentation. Sorry to bring this up again, but yesterday Mrs. Vance told me she has a scheduling problem, so the Extended Day open house is going to be part of the all-school open house this year—which means there’ll be about five hundred kids and parents here. I’m really hoping we can show everyone what an excellent program this is. Do you have any ideas about what you’ll do yet—for the club presentation?”
Alec shrugged. “We’ll figure something out.”
Mrs. Case opened her mouth as if she had more to say about that. But she smiled as best she could and said, “Well, have a happy afternoon.” And then she turned and squeaked away.
Lily looked over at Alec and said, “I know the open house is still a long time away and everything, but…like, the origami kids? They started talking about their ideas on the very first day. So, what are we going to do for the open house?”
Alec answered her in his mind, with sarcasm like a blast from the Death Star: I’m going to announce, “And now, Nina will pretend to be reading as she plays kickball with Kent!”
But he managed a small smile for Lily. “Like I told Mrs. Case, we’ll figure something out. Until then, I’m going to keep on reading.”
“So, did you see me? I kicked that last ball a mile!” Nina was breathless.
Lily didn’t react at all—she was deep into her story, plus she knew Nina wasn’t talking to her.
Alec looked up from his book. “What?”
Which was kind of a lie. Because he’d been watching everything. He had also been wishing Mrs. Case would go grab Nina and send her back to her correct activity. Where was the rules lady when she was actually needed?