by H. N. Kowitt
“HE’S NOT A JINX!” Luke grabbed Tank’s shirt.
“Whoa, whoa.” Tank wriggled away. “All I said was —”
“Don’t say it,” Luke growled.
“But —” started Abs.
“He still lost the game for us,” Chantal interrupted. She had edged her way to the front and planted herself in front of Luke. “That didn’t change.”
Luke gritted his teeth. “No, you’re wrong.” By now, the mob included Jasper, Axl, and even a curious teacher or two.
“Danny didn’t lose the game for us.” Luke’s voice was fierce. “He did what everybody tries to do — catch a foul ball in the bleachers. Games are decided by what happens on the playing field, not in the stands. We’re the ones who gave up those runs. Not Danny.”
“But —” “No way —” “Nuh-uh —” people protested.
Luke held up his hand.
“WE lost the game. And we better face it. Otherwise we’re not going to win any championship — ever. Blaming the Curse of the Woodchuck or the umpire or Danny is just messed up.”
People looked at the floor, avoiding my eyes. Mrs. Wagman appeared at the edge of the crowd.
“Luke,” she said. “Can I talk to you?”
Luke looked at the floor too.
“Are you going to flunk me?” he asked. “’Cause I still haven’t finished giving a speech?”
“Well,” said Wagman, “that’s true, and I have to subtract points for that. But I happened to hear your defense of Danny just now. And that’s the speech I’m basing your grade on.”
“Huh?” Luke and I looked at each other.
“You expressed yourself perfectly,” said Wagman. “You spoke out and took responsibility for what happened at the game. You backed up your argument persuasively. I’m giving you a B-plus.”
Woo-hoo! Luke and I high-fived.
A few minutes later, Jasper found me in the crowd and gave me a fake karate chop.
“Well, the good news is everyone likes you again,” said Jasper. “Or at least they don’t dislike you. The bad news is, we still have school sports.”
“Thanks.” I laughed. “Where’s Velvet?”
Jasper shrugged. “She could be anywhere,” he said. “Clothes Town. Barrette Barn. The Chic Shack.”
Something was different, obviously. “What happened?”
“She was always trying to change me,” said Jasper. “‘Comb your hair!’ ‘Don’t wear a phone on your belt!’ ‘Take your cape off!’”
“And you felt insulted?”
“No.” Jasper shook his head. “As a scientific experiment, I respected it. But she went too far.”
“What’d she do?” I tried not to sound too eager.
“We were at my house, and I was showing her some collectible action figures,” Jasper said.
“Droids, orcs, Rat Girl in the original packaging,” he continued. “‘You should get rid of these dolls,’ she said. She actually used that word.”
“Oh, no.” I winced.
“Dolls!” he repeated, shaking his head.
“Geez.”
“That’s when I realized how huge the gap between us really was,” he said.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Hey. Want to watch Attack of the Mutant Gym Teachers tonight?”
“YES!”
“WAIT UP!” Tank yelled from down the hall. Assuming he was talking to someone else, I kept walking. But then he tapped me on the arm. “Hey, Danny.”
I turned around and saw Abs, Kyle, and Tank. Had he ever used my actual name before? I felt a wave of resentment. Apparently, now that Luke had given his little speech, I was no longer radioactive. “Let me guess,” I said sarcastically. “You forgive me?”
Tank looked sheepish. “Uh, no.” He swallowed. “We came to ask if YOU can forgive US.”
Me … forgive them?
“’Cause I know we were kind of unfair to you,” he admitted.
I didn’t know what to say. “Um …”
“Those cartoons today were good,” said Kyle. “I like how you draw farts.”
“Uh, thanks.” Had anyone ever said that to Picasso?
“We were wondering …” Tank suddenly seemed shy. “At games, we’re tired of the same old face paint. I bet you could do something pretty cool.”
Me? Painting faces of lunatic fans? Was he crazy?
“I guess so,” I said.
“Sweet.” Tank and Abs high-fived. “Could you paint, like, a really scary, insane, rude Woody Woodchuck?”
“Um …” I tried to imagine it.
“We could pay you, even. Free tix to games. Team jerseys. Golf balls.”
“That’s, uh, tempting.” Not!
But I knew I’d probably do it anyway.
“So.” Abs played with his zipper. “You could forgive us?”
I realized I already had.
“Okay,” I said. “Yeah.”
“YES!” They bumped knuckles and started rattling off other violent face-painting ideas. “Poison cobra! Bloody knife! Oozing —”
Someone ran by and nearly knocked me over. I spun around — it was Asia! My stomach did its usual flip-flop. Thinking about her hearing my wimpy-guy plea to Kulbarsh was embarrassing.
“Hey, Danny.” She patted my back. “Way to surprise everyone! Great job! I just have one question.”
I nodded.
“If you hate sports so much …” She lowered her voice. “Why’d you agree to go to the game when I asked?”
I looked at her carefully. Her lips were pressed into a tiny smile, but it was impossible to tell what she was thinking. Did she know why I’d said yes that day?
“Uhhhh …” I stammered.
“Oops, gotta run,” she said, looking at her watch. “I’m late for African drumming!”
“But —” It seemed like we always got interrupted.
She gave me a big wave and took off. As she whipped around a corner, something flew out of her messenger bag. I walked over to see what she’d dropped.
Her favorite comic. What a stroke of luck! Now I had the perfect excuse to stop by her locker tomorrow.
Slipping it into my backpack, I smiled.
Finally, I was unjinxed.
H.N. KOWITT has written more than forty books for younger readers, including The Loser List series, Dracula’s Decomposition Book, This Book Is a Joke, and The Sweetheart Deal. She lives in New York City, where she enjoys cycling, flea markets, and gardening on her fire escape. You can find her online at www.kowittbooks.com.
Danny Shine just wants to draw comics, buy comics, and talk about comics. But first, he has to get his name off of
Read them all!
When the new guy threatens Danny’s comic-drawing dreams, it’s time for
Danny Shine for … president?!
ISBN 978-0-545-50794-3
Text copyright © 2013 by Holly Kowitt
Illustrations copyright © 2013 by Scholastic Inc.
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
e-ISBN 978-0-545-53955-5
First printing, May 2013
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
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