The Losers Club

by Andrew Clements

  Nina pulled off her pale blue sweatshirt and sat down kitty-corner from him. Her face was flushed, and random strands of brown hair were pasted to her forehead. Still panting, she said, “You should have seen me—I was playing kickball. And I was good at it, too!”

  Alec smiled. “Great.” Then he had to ask, “But…how come Mrs. Case didn’t make you go to your club table?”

  “Simple,” Nina said. “I asked Mr. Jenson if I could learn some kickball today in case I switch over to Active Games—no problem.”

  Alec stared at her. “Switch?” He could barely say the word. “Is that what you’re going to do?”

  Nina stared right back. “Are you kidding? Kent called me a wimp last night when he was over playing basketball with Richie. And when I walked into the gym just now, he bet me an ice cream sandwich that I couldn’t make three good kicks in a row.”

  “Oh,” Alec said, and he made himself smile.

  He was glad to hear she had only been playing because of a bet.

  Except Nina hadn’t exactly looked like a prisoner over there. She had looked like she’d been having a pretty wonderful time with Kent the Handsome, Kent the Charming, Kent the Kickball Champion of the Galaxy.

  Nina added, “Guess who’s getting a free ice cream sandwich at lunch tomorrow—me! And when Kent comes over to see Richie again tonight, he said he’s going to help me get better at basketball, too. Because I’m terrible at basketball, especially layups.”

  Alec was still making himself smile, and again he said, “Great.”

  Then he looked down at his book. It was time to end this conversation.

  But Nina said, “What’re you reading?”

  He held up the cover so she could see it.

  She squinted. “Ray Bradbury? Never heard of him.”

  Alec said, “He’s really famous, or that’s what my dad told me. This book was his back when he was in eighth grade—one of his favorites.”

  Nina looked at the book. “It’s really old—actually, a lot of your books are old, practically antiques. Like that copy of Treasure Island in your backpack? That book is ancient.”

  “So what?” he said. “And anyway, books aren’t like that. A book is either good or not. And if it’s good, it never gets old.”

  “Okay,” Nina said, “but you have to admit that a lot of the books you like aren’t modern.”

  “When was the last time you ate bread?” Alec asked.

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Answer the question!”

  “I ate bread today. At lunchtime.”

  “And is bread modern?”

  “No…”

  “Exactly,” he said. “Bread has been around almost forever, and bread is either good or bad, just like books!”

  Nina was done arguing. Pointing, she said, “So tell me about this one.”

  “It’s a bunch of short stories—science fiction.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like science fiction much—rockets and aliens and stuff.”

  Alec was about to remind her that A Wrinkle in Time is science fiction. And she must have read When You Reach Me—because if you read Wrinkle, you have to read Reach Me…and what about The Giver? More sci-fi.

  But instead of starting another argument, he had a better idea.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “Read this one story called ‘All Summer in a Day,’ and if you don’t like it, I’ll owe you another ice cream sandwich. But if you do like it, you’ll owe one to me. It’ll only take a few minutes. Is it a bet?” He slid the book down the table to her.

  She shrugged and smiled, and she picked up the book. “Sure—it’s a bet.”

  Nina opened to the story and began reading.

  Alec pulled out his worn copy of Treasure Island. He opened the book and propped it up, but he didn’t read. He watched Nina’s face.

  She was only on the first page and she was already hooked. As he watched her, Alec replayed the story in his mind and tried to guess what part she was reading.

  Nina had been breathing hard from her kickball workout, but as she read on, she grew more and more still, until it seemed like only her eyes were moving, word to word and line to line.

  Alec knew when Nina reached the part where the kids were so mean to Margot—he saw the emotion on her face.

  And when she got to the very end, he saw that, too. Her mouth puckered into a deep frown, and her eyebrows were low and bunched together.

  She sat and stared like that for at least ten seconds. Then she noticed Alec watching her. She turned her head and tried to smile at him, and he saw that her eyes were damp.

  “Wow,” she whispered. “That’s amazing. And it didn’t feel like science fiction—not at all.”

  She brushed at her eyes with the back of one hand and looked at the book again. Alec was pretty sure she was rereading the last few sentences, just as he had.

  And again she whispered, “Wow.”

  Nina closed the book, and the spell was broken.

  She slid it back along the table to Alec.

  “When you’re done with that, would you ask your dad if I can borrow it?”

  Alec said, “He gave it to me—you can borrow it anytime.”

  “Great,” Nina said. Then she smiled. “And tomorrow at lunch when Kent pays me my ice cream sandwich? I’ll bring it straight to you before it melts!”

  Alec laughed. “Nice!” And then he said, “But…how about if we split it?”

  Still smiling, Nina nodded. “Deal!”

  Lily looked up at them, a small disapproving frown on her face.

  Alec said, “Sorry—we’re done talking now.”

  “It’s okay. I’m at a really exciting part, that’s all.”

  But as the table got quiet, for just a moment there, Alec wished that this reading club was the way Mrs. Case wanted it to be. Because he wondered what else Nina thought about that story—about the characters, about the way the setting felt totally real, about the kids who were so mean…sort of the way Kent was mean to him. And Alec was curious to know if Nina was the kind of reader who wondered what happened after a story ended—because he did that all the time.

  But this wasn’t that kind of a book club, so for the next hour and a half, life among the Losers was quiet and solitary.

  Except every once in a while, Nina glanced over her shoulder at the kickball game.

  And every now and then, Alec glanced across the table at Nina…until he noticed how often he was looking at her. Immediately, he made himself focus on his book, made himself dive deep into the science fiction and stay there. Some of the stories were scary, but letting himself look at Nina and think about her? That felt much scarier.

  In the back of his mind, he remembered what his dad had said on Saturday, about not using books as a hideout—and he knew that that was exactly what he was doing.

  And he kept doing it anyway.

  When the kickball came smacking down onto their club table at about three-fifteen on Tuesday afternoon, it caught Alec and Nina and Lily totally by surprise, and all three of them jumped.

  The ball actually knocked the book out of Nina’s hand, and before she had even picked it up, Dave Hampton sprinted over, grabbed the ball, and whipped it sidearm back toward home plate in the far corner…but it got there too late to tag the runner—who was Kent.

  Kent saw Alec and Nina looking at him. He gave a big wave and a thumbs-up, and they both waved back.

  As she picked up her book, Nina said, “That was a monster kick!”

  Alec only nodded, but he heard the admiration in her voice.

  He went back to his reading—the same book of Bradbury stories. He’d read all of them the day before, finishing the final three stories at home just before bed. The last one was called “A Sound of Thunder,” this amazing story about a big-game hunter who took a huge, backward time-travel trip to try to shoot a Tyrannosaurus rex.

  Alec had dreamed of dinosaurs most of the night, and now he was rerea
ding the stories he’d liked best—starting with the giant lizard hunt.

  Ten minutes later, another kickball whammed against the wall ten feet above the Losers Club table, and again, all three of the readers jumped. The ball bounced twenty feet back out onto the gym floor, and again it was Dave the center fielder who grabbed it on the rebound and threw it back into play.

  Again, the ball had been kicked by Kent, and when he held up at third base, he looked back at their table and waved, and Nina smiled and waved back.

  Alec waved, too, but he didn’t smile much.

  Nina said, “It takes a lot of power to kick a ball that far, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah,” Alec said, “I guess it must.”

  He went back to reading right away, just like Lily did. But Nina watched the kickball game for a few minutes before she opened her book again.

  About fifteen minutes passed before the third ball landed. This one also struck the wall behind them, but then it smacked down onto the table before it took a high bounce back toward the game. It had landed on the name placard, which knocked it to the floor, flattened.

  Like before, Dave came hustling over to get the ball and hurl it back into play.

  Also like before, the kicker was Kent.

  Nina and Alec looked, and, like before, Kent smiled and waved.

  But unlike before, Nina didn’t smile and she didn’t wave back.

  She said, “He’s doing that on purpose—to bother us!”

  Alec nodded. “I think you might be right.”

  Which was sort of a lie. Because Alec knew she was right.

  At lunchtime just a few hours ago, Kent had brought Nina the ice cream sandwich he owed her from their kickball bet on Monday. Kent had also brought along a second ice cream sandwich, and he had clearly planned for the two of them to sit and enjoy dessert together.

  But what had Nina done? She had thanked Kent for her ice cream sandwich. Then she’d immediately stood up, walked over and handed it to Alec, and sat down across from him. And Alec had unwrapped the ice cream sandwich, broken it in two, and given half to Nina. And then the two of them sat there and laughed and talked while they ate Nina’s ice cream sandwich—the one she had gotten from Kent.

  All of this was perfectly clear in Alec’s mind.

  Because yesterday, when he had made that bet with Nina about whether she would like the science-fiction story? Alec suggested that bet because he had been trying to be as clever as Kent—on purpose.

  And choosing to bet Nina an ice cream sandwich? Alec knew he had done that to compete with Kent—on purpose.

  However, the part about giving Alec the ice cream sandwich right after Kent gave it to her? That had been all Nina’s idea.

  But the moment she had said that? Alec had known for sure that Kent was not going to like it.

  And when Alec had suggested that they should split the ice cream sandwich and share it? That was something he had added to annoy Kent even more—on purpose.

  Plus, while he and Nina had been sharing that ice cream sandwich? Alec had glanced over to see if Kent was watching them…and, of course, he was.

  And what had Kent’s face looked like right then?

  Sort of like an angry Tyrannosaurus rex.

  So there was no “maybe” about whether this kickball bombardment was on purpose. Kent was furious about that ice cream sandwich stuff, and he’d found a way to show it.

  Alec understood all this, and part of him wanted to tell Nina the whole story…but that might also mean telling how he was competing with Kent…which might mean that Nina would ask why he was competing.

  So explaining everything to Nina? Not going to happen.

  But Alec felt like he had to say something more, so he said, “Yeah, I think we’d better keep our eyes open!”

  “Right.” Turning to Lily, Nina said, “Both of us should move around to Alec’s side of the table.”

  When they were settled, Nina pulled a piece of paper out of a notebook, then asked, “Can I borrow a pencil?”

  “Sure,” Alec said, and he dug around in his backpack and found a stubby little green one that he’d had for a couple of years.

  Nina squinted at it. “Um, is this the only pencil you have?”

  Alec looked again, but before he could find anything, Lily pulled out a pencil case, zipped it open, and gave Nina a brand-new, pre-sharpened Dixon Ticonderoga.

  Nina said, “Great—thanks!”

  A fourth kickball reached the table, but first it bounced two or three times, so it didn’t have much force when it arrived. Again it was Dave who came running for it while Kent rounded the bases—as his team chanted, “Champs, Champs, Champs, Champs!”

  Because of the kicking order and the innings, Kent’s turns at the plate were spaced fairly far apart, just long enough between kickball bombs that Nina and Alec and Lily could get back into their books, and then be surprised all over again.

  But after two more long shots that landed closer to the Origami Club and then the Chess Club, Alec had learned to recognize the sound, that special whump of a big kick, plus the yell that went up whenever Kent booted a huge one. It was an early warning signal.

  At the seventh whump, when that yell burst out, Alec glanced up and saw the ball in midair. It traced a beautiful arc, soaring right across the center of the gym. And it was going to be a direct hit.

  “Hey—look out!”

  Lily ducked down, but Nina was already on it.

  She judged the speed and the drop and the arrival perfectly, and at the very last second she held up her hand—with her fist clenched around that borrowed yellow pencil.

  The ball landed full force and stopped against Nina’s hand, skewered like a big red pepper on a shish kebab. It hung there, hissing as the air gushed out.

  As Lily and some of the kids at the other club tables clapped and cheered, Nina turned toward Alec and gave him a dazzling, triumphant smile.

  Alec was astonished, and realized after two seconds that his mouth was hanging open. He shut his mouth, but he wasn’t done being amazed. It was like Nina the Warrior Princess had drawn her sword and single-handedly killed a dragon!

  When Dave arrived, Nina held out her hand with a smile, and he pulled the squishy ball off the pencil.

  “I’m very sorry,” she said sweetly.

  Dave laughed. He knew she wasn’t sorry at all, and so did everyone else at the club tables.

  They watched as Dave ran back to the far corner, watched as the teams examined the dead ball, watched as all the players turned to look across the gym at them.

  Alec saw Mrs. Case standing over there by the main door, her arms folded, looking right at the Losers Club. He was tempted to smile and wave at her, but the expression on her face stopped him.

  Kent was looking at them, too, and then he did a fist pump followed by a double thumbs-up. But all that was meant only for Nina.

  And Nina nodded and waved back.

  There were more kickballs in the equipment closet, and the game was delayed for a minute or two while Mr. Jenson got one out.

  The Champs kept on beating the opposing kickball teams, one after the other, all the rest of that afternoon. And there were plenty of other long, high kicks.

  But nothing else landed near the Losers Club.

  “Hey—loser!”

  It was Wednesday morning just before first period, and Alec recognized Kent’s voice behind him in the hall. He began walking faster.

  Kent called out again, a little louder.

  “Hey, bookworm!”

  Alec didn’t slow down, didn’t turn around. No way was he answering to that name.

  He kept walking, but he knew Kent was going to the art room, same as he was. Every day during first period they had a class together—gym or art or music. Kent was unavoidable.

  “Hey, Alec—wait up!”

  He stopped and turned, and Kent caught up with him, all smiles.

  Pretending to be out of breath, Kent said, “Phew! For a little guy
, you can walk pretty fast, you know that?”

  Which was half compliment and half put-down.

  Alec knew he wasn’t a little guy—he was just as tall as most of the other kids in sixth grade, and he also knew he was in pretty good shape. So he accepted the compliment, but the put-down kept him on his guard.

  Kent said, “So, how about Nina spearing the kickball that way! Some trick, huh? I tried to call her last night, but she never picked up. And when I stopped by to play some b-ball with her brother, she disappeared. I wanted to tell her how awesome that was!”

  Alec had to smile. “Yeah, that was totally amazing—like a warrior princess with a pencil for a sword!”

  Kent laughed. “A warrior princess—that’s great!” Then he said, “I was killing the ball yesterday—my best set of games ever! And listen, I hope I didn’t bother you guys too much.”

  Alec shrugged. “Nah, it wasn’t a problem.”

  Which was true. Because if Kent’s kickball bombardment were considered as a battle, then the Losers Club had won it. Alec knew that, and he was pretty sure Kent felt that way, too. Otherwise, why was he trying to be so pleasant all of a sudden, and why was he complimenting Nina so much?

  The answer to that came quickly.

  Kent stopped just before the art room doorway. “Listen for a second, okay?”

  Standing face to face there next to the bulletin boards, Alec did feel sort of little. Kent was at least two inches taller, and Alec had to tilt his chin up to look him in the eyes.

  Kent paused. And then, completely serious, he said, “I just wanted to ask…are you and Nina, like, together, or anything?”

  The question stunned Alec.

  He gulped. “What…you mean, together? Us? No…no!”

  Kent was all smiles again. “Great! ’Cause I’m kind of thinking of making a move, y’know? She’s pretty cool.”

  Kids were rushing to their classrooms now, and Kent said, “Guess we’d better hustle before we get locked out, huh? Catch you later!”

  Alec followed Kent into the art room. He felt like his head was still somewhere in the hallway, trying to figure out what had just happened.