Return to flip book view

SAMPLE

T.J.’s AdventuresThe Nighttime Nemesis“Mr. Angel” RamirezSAMPLE

SAMPLE

Copyright © 2021 Angel RamirezAll rights reserved The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, livingor dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form orby any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express writtenpermission of the publisher. ISBN-13: 9798490669265 Cover design by: Angel Ramirez Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309 Printed in the United States of AmericaSAMPLE

CONTENTSCopyright1 Scary Bedtime Story2 Thank You, Technology!3 Time To Read4 Good Job, T.J.5 Not Deja Vu6 Come In, Over7 An Unexpected Conversation8 Three Whole Nights?9 Help Me, Please!10 Just Between Us11 It’s My Fault12 The Winner Is!13 That Was It?14 Off We Go!About The AuthorBooks By This AuthorSAMPLE

Different… not weird.SAMPLE

1 Scary Bedtime Story“So did your family do anything special for the three-dayweekend?” Sammy asked, as we all gathered during breakfast time.It’s kind of weird. We never reserve a special bench, it justalways happens to be available. Actually, now that I think about it, Ithink we’ve met at the same spot ever since last year.“My family visited my grandma out of town,” Paul answered.“We don’t get to see her that often because she lives so far away.”SAMPLE

“That’s cool,” Erick said, “my family went to the river.”“The river?” Justin said, in a confused voice.“Yeah. We camped outside and got to go white water rafting.”“Isn’t that dangerous?” I asked.“Not really. We all wore life vests and only went through leveltwo and level three rapids,” Erick explained.“T.J. got in trouble!” Xochitl shouted, from behind me.“What?” Marcus asked.“Go away!” I ordered, standing up and pointing towards the lineup area.“You can’t tell me what to do!” Xochitl shouted, then stuck hertongue out at me and left anyway.“She’s so annoying!” I said, hitting the table before I sat backdown, which probably wasn’t the best idea, since my whole hand isnow tingling.“Brothers and sisters can be so annoying,” Justin commented.“I’ll second that,” Erick agreed.“I don’t have that problem,” Sammy commented.“Duh! You don’t have any brothers or sisters!” Justin pointedout.“Jealous much?” Sammy taunted.“Why I oughta!” Justin shouted, as Erick held him back fromreaching Sammy, who was making faces at him. Luckily the schoolbell rang so he didn’t have to hold on very long.SAMPLE

“Finish up your breakfast and throw away your trash,” Mrs.Johnson, the breakfast supervision aide called out to us.◆ ◆ ◆“Good morning, students,” Mrs. Whiston chimed, her usualsalutation. “We have been working hard on our biography writingstyle, but today I want to mix things up a bit.”Almost everyone in class exchanged confused glances. Whatdoes she mean by ‘mix things up a bit’? Mrs. Whiston is known formixing things up. She does it all the time. ‘To keep things fresh’ shewould usually say. Sometimes it was a good thing, and other times,not so much. Hopefully, this time it will be a good thing.“Instead of doing a research paper this week, I am going to giveyou a choice of what to write,” she announced.Once again, everyone looked at each other confused. What doesshe mean? Does that mean we get to choose what our research topicwas going to be? I’m confused.“Let me clarify a bit,” Mrs. Whiston said. “When you go to thelibrary, there are many different genres of books, right?”“Right,” we all answered, together.“Who can give me an example of a type of genre we can ask thelibrarian to help us find?” she asked.Lots of people raised their hands, including me. She lookedaround the room for a moment before calling on Matthew.SAMPLE

“Fithon,” Matthew said, confidently, causing Mrs. Whiston tosmile before correcting him.“I think you mean fiction,” she said.“Thass whu I thed! Fithon!” Matthew responded.A little info on Matthew. Matthew was born with a cleft pallet.Even though he’s had surgery to fix it, he has a pretty heavy lisp.Which makes it hard to understand him. Sometimes. Since we’vebeen in the same class since kindergarten, most of us understandeverything he says. But sometimes, just sometimes, it’s difficult tounderstand him.“Okay. Okay. Fiction is one of the genres. Can anyone nameanother genre?” Mrs. Whiston asked.Once again, hands shot up quickly. This time, she called onFernando.“Nonfiction,” Fernando said.“Very good. Any others?” Mrs. Whiston asked.This time she called on Desiree.“Mys-tery,” Desiree said, in an eerie voice, with a matchingfacial expression and creepy finger movements.“Good job, Desiree,” Mrs. Whiston lauded. “And of course, wehave all been using biographies to do our research papers.”“I like biographies,” Jefferson commented, without raising hishand. I can’t remember the last time he’s done that.SAMPLE

“Some of us like fiction. Some of us like mystery. And some ofus like biographies,” she said, gesturing towards Jefferson, whileslowly walking around the class. “I am giving you a chance to write astory using your favorite genre.”“How long does it have to be?” Pablo blurted out.“Three pages,” Mrs. Whiston answered.“Back and front?” Carlos asked.“Back and front,” Mrs. Whiston answered, again.“Does it have to be typed?” Lauren called out.“Handwritten,” Mrs. Whiston said, holding up her hands toprevent more questions. “In case some of you are a bit scared, I willbe introducing creative writing and adding it to our repertoire ofwriting styles.”All right! Finally. Wait! Does that mean I can do a comic bookstyle writing?“Now to be fair, I am going to be implementing a ‘words only’rule,” she continued.“What does that mean?” Phil asked, while raising his hand.“That means, although we have some great artists, noillustrations allowed,” Mrs. Whiston clarified.“Awww. Why not?” Billy asked.“Because I want us to work on our writing skills,” Mrs. Whistonsaid, turning on her overhead screen. “You can add some artwork ifSAMPLE

you’d like, but it won’t count towards your three pages, front andback.”Dang. Guess I won’t get to do a comic after all. I was thinkingof adding another scene to the Batman comic that I’ve been workingon.“Wait, wait, wait,” Mrs. Whiston said, as the overhead screenturned on and mirrored the desktop of her laptop. It seems she forgotto close a file that had the answers to a math quiz we were supposedto take later. Jefferson hurried to block the screen with his folder asMrs. Whiston rushed to her desk to close the file before anyone couldwrite the answers down.“Close your eyes. Look away,” she ordered.After closing the file and thanking Jefferson for assisting herwithout asking, she opened a different file featuring an umbrella.Above the umbrella was an empty cloud with a single line in themiddle of it. Typed underneath the line was the word ‘Topic’. Fallingfrom the cloud were large rain drops. Typed inside one of theraindrops were the words ‘facts/ideas’. Only one raindrop wastouching one of three panels on the umbrella. On the left panel wasthe word, ‘Beginning’. On the middle panel was the word, ‘Middle’.And on the right panel was the word, ‘End’.“Oh, and I forgot to mention something. I want your creativewriting assignment to be a bedtime story,” Mrs. Whiston said, as theclassroom phone rang.SAMPLE

Bedtime story. Bedtime story. Bedtime story? I couldn’t think ofa single idea for a bedtime story. Conflicts for Batman to deal with.Check. Scenarios for the T.J. League to overcome. Check. Bedtimestory. Bedtime story. Bedtime story. I’ve got nothing!“Karla, they’re asking for you in the office. Your mom broughtyour backpack,” Mrs. Whiston said, as she hung up the phone.“Frankie, could you please pass out these brainstorming worksheets?”This week, Frankie is teacher’s assistant. As he passed out theworksheets that were exact copies of the overhead screen, without thetyped words, Mrs. Whiston began explaining creative writing.Whatever she was saying was probably helpful, but I can’t stopstaring at the screen. Bedtime story. Bedtime story. Bedtime story. Ican’t think of a good bedtime story to write!“So, I’ll say it again. This outline will be very helpful inorganizing your ideas. And as such, it will be due tomorrow,” Mrs.Whiston informed us. Some people began to grumble, but that didn’tstop Mrs. Whiston from continuing to explain the outline.“Your final draft won’t be due until Friday, but I want youroutlines to be turned in tomorrow, so that I can make sure youunderstand how to use it,” she further explained. “I also want a roughdraft to be turned in with your outline. I’m going to give you aboutfive minutes to think about the topic of your bedtime story. Once youhave your topic, I want you to write it on the line inside the cloud.SAMPLE

Once you’re done with that, please take out your daily journals andanswer the writing prompt on the board.”Many people began to write their story topic as soon as Mrs.Whiston turned around to set her timer for five minutes. Not me. I’mjust sitting here. Thinking. What kind of bedtime story can I write?Should it be happy? Should it be sad?I decided to look at the writing prompt on the board: ‘What isthe scariest dream you have ever had?’ Scary dream, huh? I’ve hadplenty of those. Wait. That’s it! I know what kind of bedtime story Iwant to write. A scary bedtime story! Thank you, writing prompt!SAMPLE

2 Thank You, Technology!“Okay, everybody! Today at recess we have handball!”“Two on two basketball!”“Four on Four soccer!”“Four square!”“And dodgeball!”Normally, we would have one more recess activity, but one ofthe fourth grade Future Funmakers is absent today.SAMPLE

“Now before we release you,” I said, “let’s review ourplayground rules.”“Tattle tales don’t prevail!” Sammy shouted.“Tattle tales don’t prevail!” the first graders repeated.“Try a game that’s not the same!” Justin hollered.“Try a game that’s not the same!” they repeated, again.“Don’t shun my fun!” Paul yelled.“Don’t shun my fun!” some first graders screamed.“Shoes!” Marcus called, like a drill sergeant.“Behind shoes!” they finished, straightening their lines.“Shoulder length!” I shouted.“Apart!” they said, adjusting their spaces.All the Future Funmakers, minus Sammy, headed to theirassigned activity. Since Sammy is running four square, and it’s theclosest to the line up area, she gets to dismiss the classes.As I hurried to the two on two basketball games, I continued tothink about our creative writing assignment. You know, where is itgoing to take place? Who are the characters going to be? What is thevillain going to be like?“T.J.! He fouled me!” a first-grade girl whined, as she rushed toshow me her hand. She may have been right, but I wasn’t sure,because I wasn’t exactly paying attention like I should have been.“No, I didn’t! I hit the ball!” a boy said, running close behindher.SAMPLE

“Zim, Zam, Zoom,” I ordered.“But he hit me!” she cried.“No, I didn’t!” he denied.“Zim, Zam, Zoom or I let the next two teams play,” I said, withauthority.The little girl stomped away, with her arms crossed, followedclosely by her teammate. I know that I could have handled that better,mainly by paying attention to the game, but my mind just can’t seemto focus right now.“Does that mean my team automatically wins?” the first-gradeboy asked.“Next team!” I announced.“Yes!” he exclaimed, running to his partner and giving him ahigh five.For the rest of recess, I did my best to focus on the game infront of me, so I could be a fair referee. I may not be a greatbasketball player, but I know enough about the game to know whensomeone is doing something wrong. Thanks to Funmaker John, thatis.Twice a week, Funmaker John works with us so that we’ll befamiliar with the rules of the games we run during recess. If he didn’tdo that, I’m not sure how much I would know about basketball. Orsoccer. Or volleyball. Or four square. Remember, I’m no good atgames that involve balls full of air.SAMPLE

By the end of the last recess, I knew exactly what my story wasgoing to be.◆ ◆ ◆“I’m going to write about a boy who dreams about becoming afamous soccer player,” Marcus told me.It seems Mr. Anderson has assigned his class the sameassignment Mrs. Whiston has assigned us. I’m not sure if they copiedus or if we copied them. Either way, Marcus’ story is going to be waydifferent than mine.“What are you going to write about?” Marcus asked.“I’m going to write a scary bedtime story,” I told him, takingout the tablet that my grandpa recently bought me. It was a reward forgetting one hundred percent on my spelling tests, for an entire month!For those of you who don’t know, I have dyslexia. Dyslexia iswhen letters or numbers get switched around, mixed up or straight outchange. At least that’s what happens with me.Luckily, mom has learned some techniques to help merecognize words when I’m reading. You know, underlining certainletter combinations. Or overlining. Overlining helps, too. Or usingdots. Squiggly lines. You know, things like that.She also taught me how to make sure that I spell wordscorrectly when I’m doing my homework, writing a story or when weSAMPLE

have our spelling tests. Thanks to mom, I’ve been able to get onehundred percent on my last six spelling tests!“A scary bedtime story? You mean, like a ghost story?” Marcusasked.“Not really,” I answered.“I’m not following” he said.“I got the idea from Mrs. Whiston’s daily prompt,” I explained.“What was the prompt?” he asked.We may have the same creative writing assignment, but I guesswhen it comes to daily writing prompts, our teachers come up withtheir own.“It asked us to write about the scariest dream we’ve ever had,” Isaid.“You’re going to write about your scariest dream?” Marcuscontinued to question.“No,” I said, in a ‘are you kidding me?’ voice while rolling myeyes.“Then what are you going to write about?” he asked, lookingover my shoulder, at my new tablet.“You’ll hear,” I answered.“‘You’ll hear?’” he asked, confused. “Don’t you mean ‘you’llsee’?”“Nope. I mean, you’ll hear,” I corrected, opening an app on mytablet.SAMPLE

“I’m completely confused,” Marcus admitted.“That’s okay. You’ll hear soon enough,” I said, taking a seat onMarcus’ bed, leaning against his headboard. Marcus quickly followedlike an excited puppy dog.I tapped a red, circular button, on the top right corner of thescreen, and began talking.“It was a dark and stormy night,” I said, in my best scary voice.Suddenly, the words began to appear on screen.“What!” Marcus shouted.“And two best friends were hanging out in their bedroom,” Icontinued. Once again, the words typed themselves onto the screen.“Wait a second!” he yelled. “That’s not fair!”I pushed the button on the screen to make my tablet stoplistening for my voice.“What’s not fair?” I asked.“You don’t even have to write anything!” Marcus said, in astrong voice.“What do you mean? Of course, I do,” I answered, just asstrong.“Nuh uh,” he shot back.“Why do you think I won’t have to write anything?” I asked,beginning to get defensive.“Your tablet is writing everything for you!” he said, grabbingmy tablet.SAMPLE

“But I still have to write it on paper,” I explained, grabbing itback.“Oh. Yeah,” he said, in a ‘I never thought of that’ voice.“So, if you think about it, I have to do twice the amount of workthat you do,” I pointed out.“Sorry,” Marcus said, getting off the bed.“You don’t have to leave,” I said, in a soft voice.“It’s okay, I’m just grabbing my math homework,” Marcus said.“Okay. I just don’t want you to think that I’m angry with you,” Iclarified.“I don’t,” he said, plopping himself back onto his bed, aftergetting his math book and a pencil.Not the heavy math book we sometimes use in class. The mathbook that we use for homework. The one where we can write in it andcan rip the page out and turn it in to the teacher.“I just want to work on something that won’t disrupt your storytelling,” he continued.“Oh. Thanks,” I said.“I also want to hear what your story’s about,” he said, giving mea big smile that told me that he really didn’t think that I was mad athim.“And then the truth came out,” I said, smiling back and gigglinga bit.SAMPLE

It didn't take too long for me to dictate my story to my tablet. Ihad to stop every so often because Marcus would make a commentlike 'ooo, that's good' or 'don't make it too scary', adn the app wouldtype what he said.I also had to stop because the app didn’t always understandwhat I was saying. This was the first time I was using it, so it tooksome time to learn some tricks that made it work better. Likespeaking slowly. It couldn’t exactly keep up with my quick speaking.And speaking clearly. It felt like I was talking to someone who didn’tspeak English. Marcus did his best not to laugh but let out a giggleand chortle every so often. I also learned that if I said ‘period’, itwould type a period. But if I said, ‘open quote’ or ‘close quote,’ whensomeone was talking, it would just type the words ‘open quote’ and‘close quote’.At first, I kept manually adding in the punctuation that the appdidn’t understand. Then, Marcus suggested that I just add it in laterwhen I write it down on paper. It saved me time, so I decided to takehis advice.Normally when I do a writing assignment, I have to writeeverything down and have mom read it through to make sure that Ispelled everything correctly. Now, I just have to copy my tablet.Thank you, technology!SAMPLE

3 Time To ReadMom still wanted to look over the handwritten version of mystory. It ended up being a good thing. I had forgotten a few commasand one period. It was also good, because when I went to put it in myhomework folder, I saw the envelope Mrs. Whiston had given meearlier! I don’t know what it’s for. She didn’t give one to everyone.Just a handful of people.◆ ◆ ◆SAMPLE

I thought I had heard the weather man say that the heavy windswere supposed to be ending last night. Not! So, here I lay. Wideawake. Thanks to the gusts that are shaking my windows! I guess fivedays of insane winds just weren’t enough for Mother Nature. I reallyneed to look her number up on Google or Ask Geeves or Duck DuckGo or something. And great! Now I have to use the bathroom.I hate waking up in the middle of the night having to use thebathroom. Our house is so dark. Not that I’m afraid of the dark oranything. Okay. Maybe just a little. Okay. Maybe a lot. But don’t tellanyone!I’ve suggested to mom that we should get those lights from thatinfomercial. You know. Those white circle ones that have sensors andturn on when you walk by them and then turn off when you pass themfor longer than three seconds. They would work perfectly in thehallway at night. Oh well.Okay. Here I go. Out the door and down the hall. It’s just threesteps to Xochitl’s door. After that, it’s six down the stairs. Then fourmore down the stairs. And finally, eleven more to the bathroom. I cando this. One. Two. Three.“Look. I don’t know what’s going to happen. If all goes well,then no harm, no foul. If not, then I know that my children, that I lovewith all my heart, are enjoying themselves.”Why does mom sound like she wants to cry? I tip-toed over tomy parent’s door to get a better listen.SAMPLE

“That doesn’t give you the right to make choices withoutconsulting me! I mean, a slumber party? Really? And science camp?We can’t even afford that!” dad said. It sounds like dad is trying hisbest not to shout. He probably thinks Xochitl and I are sleeping.“We don’t have to pay anything. Weren’t you listening? Histeacher sent home a letter today. Someone from the school has paidoff the remaining balance for the trip. That means free,” my motherwas reminding dad.“Another handout. People feeling sorry for us because they cutback on my hours. I won’t allow it!” Now he is shouting.“Really? Really, Mr. Macho? You’re too proud to allow yourson a possible once in a lifetime experience? What a wonderful fatheryou are,” mom commented.I can tell that tears are streaming down her face. She gets acertain tone in her voice when she’s doing her best to fight back tears.“Don’t make this about me. Don’t make me the villain here,” hesaid, lowering his voice.It was quiet for a few seconds. Then, I heard dad’s footstepswalking towards the door.Shoot! He can’t know I was listening. I tip-toe ran as quicklyand quietly as I could to the restroom. I gently closed the door just intime to hear dad stomping down the hall and downstairs.I was in such a hurry to get to the restroom that I forgot to turnon the light. Hey! Maybe he doesn’t even know that I’m in here.SAMPLE

I turned on the bathroom light so that I wouldn’t trip over thescale. Oops. Seems I had been focusing a little too hard on mom anddad’s conversation and not enough on getting to go to the bathroom intime. Before I could put the toilet seat up and my pants down, I wetmy overnight protection.I know that’s what they were designed for. You know. Keepingaccidents from getting all over your clothes and stuff. But I reallywish I had just come straight downstairs. I guess it’s a good thingmom keeps some of my extra overnight pants in here. But I can’treach! Not even with the step stool. She keeps them in the uppercupboard, so friends don’t accidentally find them. Great. Now whatam I going to do?“T.J.? Is that you?” asked a gentle voice.Oh, no! It’s mom! What am I going to do?“Uh. Yeah. It’s me.” I answered. Man. I hope I don’t sound tootroubled.“Are you okay? You sound like you might have eaten some badfood,” mom asked, concerned.“Uh. No bad food. I was just trying to change my overnightprotection, but I can’t reach them,” I said, changing my voice.“Aw. You almost went three whole nights without having anaccident,” mom tried her best to console me. I just hope she neverfinds out what really happened. “Open the door and I’ll get you a newpair,” she offered.SAMPLE

“Okay,” I responded, unlocking the door.◆ ◆ ◆The next morning was pretty quiet in the house. Except forXochitl, of course. Mom and dad have passed by each other withouteven making eye contact. It’s kind of scary. I’m on my best behaviorto make sure it doesn’t get any worse. Xochitl on the other hand.Well. She’s Xochitl.“Where’s daddy?” Xochitl asked, when it was time for dad togive us a kiss and hug goodbye.“He’s not feeling himself,” mom answered.“Aw,” Xochitl said, sadly.We grabbed our backpacks and sweaters and headed for the car.I don’t like how mom said that dad isn’t ‘feeling himself’. Usually,she says that dad isn’t ‘feeling well’. Xochitl probably didn’t noticethe difference, but I did.◆ ◆ ◆“She still wanted to read it?” Marcus asked me, at breakfast.“Yeah. She wanted to check the punctuation,” I explained.“But don’t you guys do a peer review?” he asked.“Yes,” I said.“Don’t you guys check for punctuation and spelling mistakes?We do,” Marcus said.SAMPLE

“We do, too. But what was I supposed to do? Tell my mom shecouldn’t read it?” I asked, in a ‘are you crazy?’ voice.“I guess you’re right,” he said.“And now I don’t have to worry about writing a final draft!” Iexclaimed.“What do you mean?” Marcus asked.“Because no one will be able to mark my paper!” I said, pullingat my jacket like those people on television do when they want tolook cool.“But didn’t you write it in pencil?” he asked.“Yeah. Why?” I asked.“Don’t all final drafts have to be written in pen?” he asked, in a‘I don’t mean to burst your bubble’ voice.I looked into the mid-distance while thinking of a way out ofwhat Marcus has just said. After about ten seconds, I realized it wasimpossible.“Dang!”◆ ◆ ◆After turning in our homework, we worked on today’s writingprompt: If you could have three wishes to make for someone else,what would your wishes be? Billy asked if the wishes had to be forspecific people and Mrs. Whiston said yes.SAMPLE

“No wishes for world peace or food for the poor,” she clarified.“Oh, and no making wishes for more wishes for other people. Justone wish per person.”This is a tough one. Usually, people do think of wishing formore wishes or world peace and stuff. And I can only choose threepeople. I know that I would want to wish for my dad to have his oldhours back. That’s an easy one. Especially after what I heard lastnight.Mom and dad rarely argue, but since dad’s lost hours and has aharder time paying his share of the bills and stuff, they argue moreoften. They don’t think I know. But I do. They usually do it whenthey think I’m asleep. But sometimes it’s hard for me to fall asleep, soI hear them. I try not to. Really, I do! It gets so scary sometimes.Hearing them use voices I don’t usually hear them use. Yes, wishingfor dad’s old hours is an easy choice. But, the other two? That will bemore difficult.As I looked around the room, most people were writing aboutthe people they would bless with a wish. Some, like me, werescanning the room for ideas. Others, were staring into mid-space,hoping the people to give wishes to would appear before them. Idecided to start writing about how I would wish for my dad to havewhatever job would make him happy. I hoped that as I wrote it down,two other people to make wishes for would come to my mind.◆ ◆ ◆SAMPLE

I never did get to finish my writing prompt. But then again, I’mnot sure we were meant to. It only took Mrs. Whiston about tenminutes or so to check everyone’s outlines and rough drafts. I thinktoday’s writing prompt was more about getting us to consider others,instead of ourselves.This month’s classroom focus has been ‘others’. And there areonly a few days left in the month. If I were to make an educatedguess, I would say that Mrs. Whiston was checking to see which of ushave truly internalized the material she’s taught.“Frankie, please help me pass back the homework,” Mrs.Whiston instructed.As Frankie and Mrs. Whiston passed back the homework, therest of us shared confused faces. We usually get our homework backfrom the ‘Graded’ bin near the door. The ‘Graded’ bin is next to the‘Homework’ bin.Then, as people started getting their homework back, peopleseemed to get even more perplexed. I wasn’t sure why, until Ireceived my homework back. For the first time all year, ourhomework wasn’t graded. At all! No red pen. No blue pen. Nonothing!“Now, I’m sure most, if not all of you, are confused,” Mrs.Whiston said.“You could say that again!” Justin shouted out.SAMPLE

“Since this was a creative writing assignment, I’ve decided tobe creative in grading it,” she started. “Instead of me grading you,you shall be graded by your peers.”People started whispering things like ‘what?’, ‘is she serious?’,‘no way!’ and ‘easy A!’. Mrs. Whiston just stood there and smiled.Then after a moment of whispers, she continued to explain her idea.“You will be graded by three of your friends,” she said, holdingup a grading sheet. “You will leave your rough draft on your tablewith this grading sheet. You will then choose someone’s paper toread. You will have eight minutes to read their story and two minutesto write your input and grade on their grading sheeting. Grades willbe out of ten points. One being the lowest grade and ten being thehighest.“If you take a look at your grading sheets, you will notice thatthere is a line for ‘Author’s Name’ but there is not a line for ‘Reader’sName’. These will be anonymous grades and notes, so feel free to behonest as no one will know it was you. We will do three rotations.”“What if multiple people want to read the same story?” Jordanasked.“To make this work, everyone’s story needs to be read the samenumber of times. Now, I foresaw this happening, so I wroteeveryone’s class number on a piece of paper and put them in this hat,”she said, holding up her Dr. Seuss hat. “You will each take a numberSAMPLE

and read that person’s story. If you pull out your own number, just putit back and take another.”Mrs. Whiston then walked around the room allowing people totake a number. Once everyone had a number, she set her timer on heroverhead screen.“Okay everybody. Time to read!”SAMPLE

4 GOOD JOB, T.J.After reading two other people’s stories, I started to doubt justhow good my story really was.The first story I read, was about a land where everyone was thesame color. Gray. And how they all liked the same things and had thesame things and did the same things. Everyone was the same. Exceptone person. One person could change colors. Any color they wantedto be, they could be. They liked different things. Had different things.Did different things. And because they were different, they had to liveSAMPLE

outside of the city. They were only allowed to come into town on acertain day and during a certain time. One day, the color changingperson saves a gray child. It’s only then that the people realize thatmaybe being different is okay.The second story I read, was about a girl genius, from a wealthyfamily, who contracted a deadly virus. This deadly virus had no cure.It had a treatment, but no cure. Well, this girl genius, starts gettinghomeschooled and decides to do some research into cell regeneration.During her research, this girl learns to unlock the full potential andpower of the lysosomes in the human body. And since lysosomes areable to battle viruses, she was able to cure herself. She then continuesher research and finds a way to cure every disease and every sickness!I’ll give you three guesses as to what girl wrote that story. But you’llprobably only need one.On the third rotation, I chose my own number. Then I chose thesame number as my first choice.“He’s trying to find the number of one of his friends!” Laurenwhined.“No, I’m not. I chose my number and then I chose the samenumber of the first story I read,” I said, honestly.“Yeah. Sure,” she retorted.“Lauren,” Mrs. Whiston said, in a mother scolding her daughterkind of tone.“Fine. You choose my number,” I told Lauren.SAMPLE

“That won’t be necessary,” Mrs. Whiston said, pulling a numberout of her hat for me. “Seventeen.”“That’s my number,” I said, chuckling while looking at Laurenwho then stuck her tongue out at me.Mrs. Whiston chose again.“Twenty-three,” she announced, holding up the paper foreveryone to see.“That’s my number,” Lauren declared.“Well, lucky you,” Mrs. Whiston said, moving on to the nextstudent.Great. Now, if I give her a low grade, she’s going to say that I’mtaking revenge on her. Hopefully she wrote a good story.◆ ◆ ◆“Your class did that, too?” Marcus asked, as we set up theplayground equipment.“Yes,” I answered, placing cones and handballs on their mark.“What about the competition?” he asked.“Competition?” I asked, stopping in place.“Yeah. Mrs. Whiston didn’t tell you guys?” Marcus questioned.“She didn’t mention any competition,” Sammy answered, forme.“Mr. Anderson said that whoever gets the highest score fromeach class will be read by both classes. Then, everyone will vote whoSAMPLE

had the best story,” Marcus explained.“So, the teachers will have no influence on who wins?” Sammyasked, grabbing some jump ropes off the cart.“Not according to Mr. Anderson,” Erick answered, for Sammy.“Well, that’s kind of cool,” Justin commented.“I have to admit, I did read a couple of pretty cool stories,” Isaid, closing the bottom half of the equipment room door.“Well, good luck to you all,” Sammy said, putting the jumpropes in their designated area.“Aw, thank you,” Paul said.“But you’re all going down,” she finished.◆ ◆ ◆When we returned to class from lunch recess, Mrs. Whistonpassed out a packet while explaining to us what Marcus had alreadytold us. The top paper of the packet was the same grading sheet wehad used to grade each other’s papers. Next was a copy of Carissa’sstory. Carissa was from Mr. Anderson’s class. Then there was anothergrading sheet, followed by my story. Wait. My story? My story hadthe highest grade in our class?“Once again, you will have eight minutes to read the story andtwo minutes to write your review and give it a grade,” Mrs. Whistonsaid, once again, setting the timer on her overhead display.SAMPLE

“Doth T.J. get to grade hith own thory?” Matthew asked, outloud.“We will not be including Carissa or T.J.’s own grade in theoverall score. And that’s not all. Mr. Anderson and I will be using thepoints that you give to decide who had the best story in the wholefifth grade. The winner gets to have a special lunch with Mr.Martinez,” Mrs. Whiston said, starting the first ten-minute countdown.For those of you who don’t know, Mr. Martinez is our Principal,which is why I call him ‘Principal Martinez’.It took a little over twenty minutes for everyone to read andgrade both stories. After Mrs. Whiston collected all of our packetsback, she handed us back our rough drafts with the grading sheetattached. You know, the one that people had made notes on.“I have stapled the grading sheets to your stories so that you canuse them to improve your story, if you’d like,” she explained.“But we don’t have to?” Andres asked.“Don’t have to what?” Mrs. Whiston asked, for clarification.“We don’t have to change our story if we don’t want to?” heasked, more clearly.“No, Andres, you don’t,” Mrs. Whiston answered.“Does that mean that we’ll be doing this again?” Shanika asked.“No, Shanika,” Mrs. Whiston replied. “I will be taking the gradeyour peers gave you on your rough draft and averaging it with theSAMPLE

grade that I will give you after reading your final draft.”“So, you will be grading our stories, after all?” Jefferson asked.“I guess I will,” Mrs. Whiston said.Jefferson then mouthed ‘thank God’.We then took out our tablets to take a picture of our rough draftand grading sheet. Mrs. Whiston has us do this for every homeworkassignment, test, and project, just in case her laptop ‘freaks out’. It’spretty ingenious. I think all teachers should have their students dothis. Even if her laptop freaks out or breaks, she can just go back andreinsert all of our grades.◆ ◆ ◆When I got home, I told mom about how Mrs. Whiston had usgrade each other’s stories and about how my story got the highestscore in my class. She got so excited, she gave me a hug, picked meup and spun me around. Then I told her about how if my story wasvoted the best by both classes, I would get to have a special lunchwith Principal Martinez. Once again, she picked me up and spun mearound. Then she went to go tell dad. I guess they’ve already madeup. That’s good.When I got to my room, I decided to read the notes that peoplehad written about my story. Even though mine had received thehighest score in my class, it could always be better.SAMPLE

Unfortunately, there were no helpful notes. They all just saidhow good it was. Or how scary it was. Or how they wished that itwould never happen to them. So, without any new ideas, I justrewrote it in pen for my final draft, even though it’s not due untilFriday.I was so ready to write something, that after I finished writingthe final draft, I decided to add some new blocks to the comic I wasworking on. The Joker is about to find out Batman’s deepest darkestsecret. His true identity. Batman is telling Robin that if Joker findsout his true identity, then he will soon find out the identity of theentire Justice League. If they don’t stop Joker, lots of people will bein danger.◆ ◆ ◆When mom dropped Xochitl and me off at school the nextmorning, I noticed Mrs. Whiston talking to Fernando’s mom in theparking lot. Fernando’s mom did not look very happy. I couldn’t helpbut wonder what they were talking about.“You’re so going to win!” Paul said, as we waited in line for thefirst bell to ring. “Your story was way better than Carissa’s.”“I wouldn’t say that,” Sammy interjected.“What do you mean?” Erick said. “Whose side are you on?”“I’m not on anyone’s side,” Sammy answered.“You should be on T.J.’s side,” Justin commented.SAMPLE

“I’m just trying to be impartial,” Sammy pointed out.Just then, Mrs. Whiston came out of the office followed byanother parent. I think it’s Sarah’s dad. I can’t hear what he’s saying,but his face is telling me everything I need to know. He’s angry. I’mnot sure what about, but Mrs. Whiston is walking, hurriedly, towardsour classroom. Mr. Ellis on the other hand, is standing in front ofSarah’s dad, pointing towards the front gate.I wonder what Fernando’s mom and Sarah’s dad are angryabout?◆ ◆ ◆Today’s writing prompt: When is it okay to yell at someone forsomething they didn’t do?Instead of grading papers while we worked on the daily writingprompt, Mrs. Whiston called me to her desk.“Yes,” I said, wondering if I was in trouble.“T.J., I just want to let you know that I got a few angry emailsand messages on the Classroom Communication app,” she said.I wondered what they were about, but I was too afraid to ask.“And this morning, two parents confronted me before schoolstarted,” she continued.How could any parent be angry with Mrs. Whiston? She’s thebestest, friendliest, most compassionate teacher there is.SAMPLE

“Now, before I go on, I want to let you know, it is not yourfault,” she reassured me.Not my fault for what?“It seems that after reading your story, yesterday, some kidscouldn’t sleep. Your story scared them so badly, that some of yourfriends had to sleep with their parents,” she said, in a quiet, calmvoice.“Am I in trouble?” I said, instinctively.“No, no, no, T.J. Don’t you worry. Some parents just thoughtthat Mr. Anderson and I shouldn’t have let their kids read such a scarystory,” she said, taking my hands into hers.“I didn’t mean for it to be that scary,” I said, defensively.“T.J., it’s okay. You’re not in trouble. I let Mr. Martinez knowwhat happened, and he agrees that you’ve done nothing wrong,” shesaid, in a comforting voice.Even though she said I wasn’t in trouble, my chest is alreadytightening, and without telling them to, tears are filling my eyes.“T.J. T.J. You’re okay. There’s nothing to worry about. You’renot in trouble,” Mrs. Whiston reassured me, wiping away a tear thatwas falling. “You’ve done something truly great, T.J. Just a year ago,you had trouble reading. And it was this year, that you got your firstperfect score on a spelling test. Now, you’ve written a story sofantastical that your peers scored it the best in the entire class. It wasso real to some of them that they couldn’t get it out of their heads.SAMPLE

Most writers go their entire lives wondering if their stories have anyeffect on their readers. Yours did! And a group of angry parents is justproof of that.“T.J., you should be proud! Your mom and dad should becelebrating! Your friends should be raising you up on their shouldersto take a victory lap around the blacktop! T.J. If no one else does, Iwant to congratulate you on a great creative writing assignment. Onwriting an amazing scary story. And with that, I present you withthis.”She held up a certificate that said: “This Certificate is Presentedto: Tomas ‘T.J.’ Olivera, Jr., for Outstanding Achievement in CreativeWriting.” It was signed by Mrs. Whiston and Principal Martinez.Except his name was written ‘Mr. Martinez.’“Good job, T.J.”SAMPLE

5 Not Deja VuEven after everything Mrs. Whiston said, and the certificate shegave me, I didn’t feel much better for the rest of the day, but I madesure not to show it to anyone else. I also didn’t tell anyone what Mrs.Whiston told me. Except about the certificate she had given me.Everyone congratulated me and patted me on the back.◆ ◆ ◆SAMPLE

Today we’re at Marcus’ house for homework. Sometimes wework at the kitchen table, sometimes in the living room, but right nowwe’re in his bedroom. He’s lying on his bed, I’m stretched out on thefloor, and Daniel is at his desk.“What’d you get for number three?” Marcus asked.Even with my dyslexia, math comes easy to me. Not to mention,my dyslexia seems to only apply to letters and words. Numbers forsome reason are unaffected.“X=7,” I answered.“What?!” Marcus shouted, as he looked at my paper.“Hey!” I reacted, pulling my paper away.“C’mon! Lemme see!” Marcus said, trying to reach my paper asI did my best to keep it out of reach.“And Marcus reaches for the paper as T.J. swiftly turns away,keeping it just out of reach!” Daniel said, in his sports commentatorvoice.“Be quiet, Daniel,” Marcus ordered.“Will Marcus get the paper,” his play by play continued.“I don’t know Daniel,” he said, in a different voice, “althoughMarcus has superior arm length, T.J. has superior speed and agility.”“Daniel! Go away!” Marcus said, angrily, as I continued toevade his reach.“Wow! He almost had it–.”SAMPLE

Just then, we heard a loud crash come from downstairs. We allimmediately froze and looked towards the door. Both of Marcus’sparents are out and they aren’t supposed to be back for another houror so. At least I think they’re not. Which is why Daniel’s watching us.And seeing as how Marcus doesn’t have a cat or dog, we have no ideawhat just made that crashing sound.Daniel placed his index finger on his lips, urging us to staysilent. He then motioned for Marcus and me to follow him. Wesilently tip-toed down the hall single file. As we reached the stairs,we could hear people talking in the kitchen.“Forget the cheap stuff. Karl said there was silver and goldupstairs!” said a gruff voice.Daniel turned and intently motioned for us to go to Marcus’sroom. Once we got there, we quietly closed the door.“We have to call the cops!” Marcus whispered, anxiously.“The phone’s in mom and dad’s room,” Daniel whispered back.“If they hear us walking, they might try to hurt us!”Just then, we heard the people coming up the stairs. Danielmotioned for us to hide. Marcus hid in the closet. Daniel hid underthe bed and I, being the smallest of us, hid in the laundry basket.“Do you know which room it is?” the gruff voice asked.“How should I know? He just told me ‘upstairs’,” a secondvoice answered.SAMPLE

“This is the last time I go on a job without any information,” thefirst voice commented, getting closer to Marcus’s room.Unfortunately, it’s the first room at the top of the stairs. Thenagain, so is Daniel’s. Except his is across from Marcus’s. Oh, how Iwish there were locks on the doors!“Let’s go in this room,” voice two suggested.“No. This one first,” voice one ordered.Oh, God, please let that not be this room. That’s it! I’ll pray. Iclosed my eyes, bowed my head, and folded my hands the best Icould, since I had placed some of Marcus’ dirty clothes on top of me,to make it harder for the men to see me. Then I whispered in thequietest voice I’ve ever used.Dear God. Please let these bad men not find us. Please let themleave without hurting us either. Please MAKE them leave. Please,please, please, please, PLEASE! In Jesus’ name, amen.I held my breath as I waited to hear if Marcus’ door wouldopen. After ten seconds or so, I quietly exhaled. It seems they’vegone into Daniel’s room first. That means it will only be a matter oftime before they come in here.As I try my best not to make noise or any big movements, timeseems to be slowing down. Or maybe it’s standing still. Oh, how Ihope these guys will just skip this room altogether.“There’s nothing here! Just a bunch of kid stuff!” voice oneshouted.SAMPLE

“Sorry! Like I said, they only told me that the good stuff wasupstairs!” voice two responded. Just then the door to Marcus’s roomopened and slammed into his dresser.“It better be in here!” voice one continued to shout.“Think of it this way,” voice two said, in a more timid voice, “ifit’s not in here, there’s only one more room left.”“Shut up and start searching!” voice one commanded.Oh, please don’t let them find us. Please, please, please, please,please!I can hear one of the men emptying out Marcus’s dresserdrawers while the other man just overturned his mattress. I’m so gladhis bed frame has a solid piece of wood at the bottom, otherwise theywould be able to see Daniel.“T.J., if you’re there, this is Xochitl. Dad said it’s time to comehome. We have to go to that meeting. Oh, and by the way, he’s not ina good mood.”“What was that?” voice two asked, sounding concerned.“Just some walkie-talkie. Nobody’s here. Keep looking!” voiceone said, sounding irritated.Just then the doorbell rang.“Somebody’s here!” voice two said. “Let’s get outta here!”“No! We don’t leave without the goods!” voice onecommanded.“But what if someone comes in?” voice two asked.SAMPLE

“No one’s coming in! They wouldn’t have rung the doorbell ifthey had a key!” voice one pointed out.“Daniel! Marcus! We left the key in the house! Open the door!”Marcus’s mother shouted, from the side of the house.“See! Someone’s here! Let’s get outta here!” voice two said,terrified of getting caught.“Back door! Hurry to the back door!” voice one shouted.I could hear the men run out of the room and down the stairs. Ijumped up the best I could and saw Daniel climbing out fromunderneath the bed. He ran out of the room, and down the stairs, toopen the door for his parents.I was about to walk out of the room when I noticed Marcushadn’t come out of the closet. Wait! The closet door is open! One ofthe men must have been searching the closet. I ran to the closet andcalled out Marcus’s name. There was no response. I called it again.Nothing. Then I heard it. A soft sniffling.“Marcus? Is that you?” I said, as I moved a pile of clothes thatwere on top of a wooden trunk. Marcus must be more flexible than Ithought. I can barely fit into that thing. I opened the trunk and foundMarcus in the fetal position with his hands over his face.“Marcus,” I said softly, trying to comfort him, “they’re gone.It’s okay. You can come out now.”Marcus still didn’t move. As I waited to see if he would comeout, I could hear Daniel telling his parents what happened.SAMPLE

“I’ll call 9-1-1,” his mother told his father, “you check onMarcus and T.J. And don’t touch anything. I want everything exactlythe way it is when the police get here.”A couple of moments later, Marcus’s dad entered the room. Iwas still sitting next to the trunk hoping that Marcus would come out.“T.J., are you okay?” Marcus’s dad asked.“Yes, sir,” I answered, “but I can’t get Marcus to come out ofthe trunk.”“Is he hurt?” he asked, as he approached us.“No,” was all I could say.“Marcus?” his father called, as he placed his hand on Marcus’sshoulder. Marcus still didn’t move. His father placed his hands onMarcus’ hands and calmly pulled them away from his face. Marcuslooked at his dad with terrified eyes, full of tears that were red fromcrying.“Dad?” Marcus asked, as if he just realized we were there.“Dad!” Marcus said, with more energy, trying to climb out of thetrunk. I guess it was a tighter squeeze than he thought. Marcus’ dadhelped him out and Marcus jumped into his arms. I’ve never seen hisdad carry him before, but this occasion certainly calls for it.“They’re on their way,” Daniel said, excitedly, as he entered theroom. “Is Marcus okay?” he asked, as his father slowly walkedtowards the door.SAMPLE

“He’s just a bit shaken up. He’ll be okay,” his father answered,caressing Marcus’s back like my mom does when she comforts me.It was then that I noticed something. Everything that justhappened was almost exactly like I had written it in my story! Theonly difference was that my story happened on a dark and stormynight.Now that I think about it, it’s almost like when you have adream. You know what I mean, right? You’re living life and thensomething happens, and you feel like it’s already happened before.Then you realize that you had a dream that was almost exactly thesame as what just happened! What’s it called again? Something inFrench, I think. Whatever it is, it’s like that!SAMPLE

6 Come In, OverThe next hour or so was both scary and confusing.It was scary because I had to relive the whole experience bytelling the officers, and my parents, what had happened. If youhaven’t guessed, it was quite scary for me. One minute we’re doinghomework in Marcus’ room and the next minute we hear a crashdownstairs and we’re hiding from burglars! I mean, what if they hadgone into Marcus’ room first? What if they had found us? WhatSAMPLE

would they have done to us? Did they have weapons? What if theykidnapped us or used us for a ransom? Just rethinking about thewhole thing makes my stomach feel gross.It was confusing because I had to tell it over and over! Why didI have to tell it over and over? First to Marcus’ parents. Then to myparents. Then to one officer who seemed like he had never workedwith children before. Then to a nicer officer who seemed to keeplollipops in her pocket. Then to a detective whose questions weredifficult to understand so I ended up with a headache. Then tosomeone who didn’t understand that we didn’t actually see the twoburglars. I mean, how was I supposed to know what race they were orhow tall they were based off their voices?After the officers and investigators left, I went home. I wasn’treally hungry, and it was already bedtime, so I asked my mom if Icould go straight to bed. She said it was okay. Usually, she would fussand ask me if I had finished my homework or tell me to at least take ashower and brush my teeth, but tonight she didn’t. She just held metight for longer than usual. I didn’t mind, though, even though Xochitljoined in on the hug. Normally, it would annoy me and ruin themoment, but tonight I welcomed it. It was the first time I felt safesince all of this had happened.Although mom didn’t tell me to, I’m going to brush my teethanyway. For some reason, I don’t want to change that part of mynormal routine. Of course, the fact that my electrical toothbrush playsSAMPLE

the Batman theme song helps a bit. It helps me remember that I canbe brave about the whole thing. I don’t have to be scared anymore.I’ve even decided to wear my favorite Batman pajamas and socks tobed. My bed is already Batman themed, so it just completeseverything. The only thing that’s missing is my Batman characterpillow. It looks kind of like a stuffed animal, but it’s not. He sits ontop of my bookshelf with some of my other, more importantmemorabilia.I took my desk chair and placed it in front of my bookshelfsince it was too high up for me to reach. Just as I grabbed it, my momentered my room, startling me and causing me to almost fall off.“Careful, Tomas,” she said, hurrying to make sure that I didn’tfall.“I’m sorry. I just wanted to get Batman so that he could sleepwith me tonight,” I explained, as mom helped me off my chair.“It’s okay mi amor. Just call me next time. I’ll get it for you,”she said.Now, I know what you’re probably thinking. ‘T.J., aren’t you inthe fifth grade? Aren’t you a little old for stuffed animals?’ In oneword… no! First of all, this is a character pillow. Although I do havea Batman stuffed animal. But why does there have to be an age limitfor stuffed animals? I mean, the tag says ‘3+’. Which means ‘threeand up’! Not ‘three until you’re too old’. Right? Right!SAMPLE

Think about it. Haven’t you ever seen those huge teddy bearsthat they sell at the store? The ones that you have to tie to your car.Do you really think someone is buying that for their little kid? I don’tthink so!Mom says that if stuffed animals are your thing, then findfriends who don’t make you feel like you have to hide your stuffedanimals. Find friends who just let you be you!I climbed into bed, with Batman held close to my side. Thenmom tucked me in tight. She started from the toes, after tickling thema bit, of course, then made her way up to my neck, where she tickledme a little bit more. I've never really understood why she tickles meon the neck. It just loosens the blankets so that she has to tuck them intightly again.After she finished her tucking me in routine, she kissed me onthe forehead.“I love you,” she said, sweetly.“Love you more,” I hit back, as she took a step towards thedoor.“Love you more, plus one,” she volleyed, taking another step.“Love you more, plus infinity,” I returned, as mom reached thedoor.“Love you more, plus whatever you say, plus one,” she said,while rushing out the door.“Hey! No fair!” I exclaimed.SAMPLE

That’s the only way she can win. By cheating! Oh well, I’m tooexhausted to care right now.◆ ◆ ◆I hadn’t been asleep for long before I heard, “Batman, this isCaptain America. Come in Batman.” I rolled onto my side andreached for my walkie-talkie.“This is Batman,” I responded, still half asleep. “What is it?Over.”“I can’t sleep,” Marcus said, “I keep dreaming about therobbery. Over.”“Go sleep with Daniel,” I offered, “or your parents. Over.”“I don’t know,” Marcus paused, “can’t you just come over?Over.”“I don’t know.” I thought for a moment. “What if I get caught?Over.”“Pleeease.”I sighed. Marcus had just helped me with a bully the other day. Iguess I did owe him one. Just then my bedroom door opened.“Is everything okay?” mom asked.“Marcus can’t sleep, and he wants me to come over,” Iexplained.“Aw. Poor thing,” she said.SAMPLE

“So, can I go over?” I asked, with an ‘I don’t really want to goover, but I secretly do’ kind of voice.You know the one I’m talking about. The one you use on yourparents to get something you want by pretending that you don’tactually want it. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. Thatvoice!“Batman. Come in Batman,” Marcus’ voice came in over thewalkie talkie.I held my walkie talkie up towards mom while holding up myshoulders as if to say, ‘what do I say?’. She gave me that ‘I’mthinking about it’ look.“Batman. Come in Batman,” Marcus’ voice repeated.“I guess so,” mom said, closing the door behind her as she left.I placed my walkie talkie back on my nightstand and climbedout of bed. I grabbed Batman as Marcus’ voice came in again.“So?” was his one-word communication.I grabbed my walkie talkie, “okay. Okay. I’m climbing out mywindow. Open yours. Over.”“Okay. Over,” his excited voice rang through my room.Luckily the tree in my backyard has a couple of branches thatreach some branches of the tree in Marcus’s backyard. Our dadsworked together to make us a tree house. Well, not exactly a treehouse. It’s more of a platform with railings and a walkway. ‘Therearen’t enough strong branches to hold up an entire tree house’ my dadSAMPLE

said. Marcus’ dad agreed. Therefore, a platform instead of a treehouse.There’s a walkway from the roof of Marcus’ house that leads tothe platform and a walkway from the roof of my house that leads tothe platform. The whole thing has railings of course, so that we won’tfall. We can literally walk to each other’s house without ever havingto touch the ground!As I opened my window, a strong gust of nighttime air enteredmy room. Boy is it cold outside! I closed my window behind me andbegan the walk towards Marcus’ roof. There’s a full moon outtonight, so everything is well lit. Hey! There’s my favorite pen! I’vebeen looking everywhere for it!As I reached Marcus’ platform, I could see him waiting for meinside his window. He reached his hand out to help me climb inside.“Thank you,” Marcus said, “you’re the best.”“Just let me in. It’s freezing!” I whispered loudly.SAMPLE

7 An Unexpected ConversationI told him I’d only stay until he fell asleep, but I guess I waspretty exhausted myself. Let’s just say that when I woke up, it wasn’tfrom Marcus’ alarm clock. It was from Marcus’ mom gently shakingme awake.“Good morning, T.J.,” Marcus’ mom said.“Good morning. Where’s Marcus?” I asked, noticing that hewas no longer lying next to me.SAMPLE

“He woke up a while ago. He felt bad for making you comeover, so he decided to let you keep sleeping,” she explained.“Oh. Okay,” I said, climbing out of bed. “Are those pancakes Ismell?”“Actually, they’re waffles,” Marcus’ mom corrected. “Youwouldn’t be hungry, would you?”“For waffles? Even if I wasn’t hungry, I’d eat some!” Iexclaimed, jumping out of bed.“Hey, T.J.!” Marcus said, getting up from the kitchen table sowe could do our handshake.“Marcus!” I said back, following Marcus’ handshake initiation.“Good morning, T.J.,” Marcus’ dad greeted me, as he enteredthe kitchen.“Good morning,” I greeted.“What’re you doing here?” Daniel, asked.“Daniel Joseph!” his mother scolded.“I’m sorry. It’s just that he wasn’t here when I went to bed lastnight. It just caught me by surprise,” he apologized.“So how are you doing?” Marcus’ dad asked.“Okay, I guess,” I answered.“I’m just glad you boys weren’t hurt,” Marcus’ mom said,giving Marcus, then Daniel, a hug.“You boys were very brave,” Marcus’ dad said.“We hid from the burglars,” Daniel pointed out.SAMPLE

“Exactly,” his dad responded.“How is that brave?” Marcus asked.“It takes a lot of control not to lose your cool in a situation likethe one you were in yesterday. You boys could have panicked and didsomething that would have led to you getting caught, or worse,getting hurt,” he explained. “Instead, you stayed calm and didn’treveal yourselves. It may seem cowardly, but it was both smart andprobably the bravest thing you could have done.”“That’s very true,” his mom agreed.“Well, it was the worst day of my life,” Marcus said, placing hishand on his forehead. “What about you, T.J.?”“Well. At least it wasn’t as bad that day back in second grade,” Icommented, in a ‘don’t you remember’ voice.“What day in second grade?” he asked.“Oh, yeah! I forgot! You weren’t here in second grade. It wasthe day a substitute teacher wouldn’t let me go to the restroombecause, ‘School will be out in only fifteen minutes. I think you canhold it ‘til then’,” I imitated holding up quotes with my fingers. “Iended up peeing in my pants! And the whole class found out. Theycalled me ‘T.J. Peed! Hey! T.J. Peed! Hey!’ for nearly a month untilanother kid peed in his pants. Then the name got passed on andchanged to fit him,” I finished.“Wow. That’s pretty bad,” Marcus commented. “The last time Iwet my pants at school was in kindergarten. And it wasn’t my fault. ItSAMPLE

was nap time, and when I woke up, I was wet!”I had to laugh at that last part.“Hey! It’s not funny, ‘T.J. Peed, hey!’” Marcus shot back.“I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing with you!” I tried.“But I wasn’t laughing!” Marcus pointed out.“I know. Sorry. It’s just something my mom always says.” Inever really understood it, seeing as how she’s usually the only onelaughing just before she says it.“That’s okay. As long as this stays between the two of us,”Marcus said, pointing back and forth from him to me with a seriouslook on his face. He is definitely not kidding about that.“You’ve got no argument there!” I agreed.“Okay. If you two are done agreeing, go wash up for breakfastwhile I finish setting the table,” Marcus’ mother instructed.You didn’t have to tell us twice. We raced to the restroom. Ialmost tripped over Marcus as we made the right turn to get to thebathroom at the end of the hall.It was kind of weird. Marcus’s house and my house wereidentical on the inside. Though you would never be able to tell fromthe outside. His house looked like a more modern home and ourslooked like something straight out of the fifties, complete with patioswing and all. My mom wouldn’t let my dad change anything aboutit, even though our house was the only one that hadn’t been altered onSAMPLE

our entire street. ‘It makes it more family friendly’, she would alwayssay. I kinda liked it, too.“Can I tell you a secret?” Marcus asked, as we prepared to washour hands with liquid soap that smelled like lilac. I prefer the orangeblossom scent like my mom always buys for our restroom at home.“Of course, you can!” I assured him.“I only told you half the truth downstairs,” he began, with a hintof disappointment in his voice, “and I don’t like lying to you,” hecontinued, as we lathered our hands. “Especially since you’re my bestfriend. It’s just that… it’s really embarrassing.”“Hey! I’m the shortest kid in our whole grade and I can’t playhalf the sports that you can. Even if I practiced my heart out! And I’mpretty sure whatever you’re about to share with me won’t be thatbad,” I commented, trying to lift his spirits.“So, you promise?” he asked, again.“Cross my heart and hope to die,” I answered, getting a little bitof soap on the Batman logo on my shirt as I crossed my heart.“Okay,” he sighed, “here goes. The truth is, the last time I wetmyself at school was in kindergarten.”“Yeah. You said that already,” I pointed out.“The part I lied about was when I said that it wasn’t my fault,”he explained. He still sounded pretty down about it.“I don’t understand. You were only five. Of course, it wasn’tyour fault!” I exclaimed, as I began to rinse my hands of soap.SAMPLE

“But it was. You see,” he looked around and raised hisshoulders, “I still wet the bed sometimes when I’m asleep,” hewhispered, in confidence.“Oh. No biggie,” I said, trying not to sound too surprised.“You don’t understand,” he said, still lathering his hands. “Thereason I wasn’t in the bed when you woke up was because I wet thebed last night!”“But the bed wasn’t wet,” I stated, confused.Marcus sighed.“I know. That’s because I use disposable underwear,” he said,looking at the floor. “I was changing out of them while you wereasleep. That’s the real reason that I didn’t wake you up.”“Lots of kids wear those! My mom said that one in four kidswet the bed ‘til their like twelve or thirteen,” I recited, drying myhands while trying to turn his mood around. “We did some researchonline and even found out that some kids wet the bed all the waythrough high school! It usually has something to do with their bodynot developing right.”Marcus was starting to look a little less disappointed, but I knewhe still felt pretty bad. That’s when I decided that if he could sharesuch a deep secret with me, I should probably do the same. Make itequal, you know?“By the way,” I began, “you’re not alone.”SAMPLE

“I know. You just told me that,” he said, looking a littleconfused.“I still wet sometimes, too,” I said, doing my best to sound likeit was nothing big.Then I did something I had never done before. Without eventhinking about it, I pulled my Batman pajamas away from the side ofmy waist to reveal my disposable underwear. Then I patted him on theshoulder as I left the restroom. I think I surprised him because hedidn’t exactly follow me downstairs.SAMPLE

8 Three Whole Nights?Marcus didn’t talk much at breakfast. He seemed to bepreoccupied by something. Probably about what I had just revealed tohim. When his mom asked if everything was okay, he said that he was‘just tired from everything that happened yesterday’. She may havebought it, but I knew better.After breakfast, I thanked Marcus’ parents for the food andheaded home. Unfortunately, the back door was locked. AfterSAMPLE

knocking a couple of times, my dad answered the door.“How’s Marcus,” dad asked, as I walked in.“He’s doing better,” I answered.“Have you eaten?” my mom asked, fixing my hair.“Yes. Marcus’ mom made waffles,” I said, re-messing up myhair.“Homemade waffles?” dad asked, with an excited tone.“I think they were frozen waffles,” I said, pushing down thehandle on our toaster.“T.J.! You’re going to burn out the toaster!” mom scolded me,as I rushed out of the kitchen laughing.◆ ◆ ◆The rest of the morning was uneventful, and I can honestly saythat I was actually looking forward to school. I just want to get backto my normal routine so that something would get my mind off ofwhat had happened last night. And boy did something get my mindoff of it.“Okay, boys and girls, go ahead and put your reading booksaway. We’re going to move on to something different,” Mrs. Whistoninstructed.I’m not sure why, but the way she said that got me excited.“Some of you may have forgotten, but Science Camp is just twoand a half weeks away!” she exclaimed.SAMPLE

Everyone in the class erupted in cheers, which led to Mrs.Whiston holding up her quiet coyote hand signal to calm us down. Ittook a few moments for the rest of us to put our hands up and quietdown.“Now, I know you’re all excited, but I just want to review someof the things that need to be finished before we go up, as well as someof the things that you can look forward to.”She explained that some people still had to finish their onlineregistration and that others still had to submit a doctor’s note for anymedication that they have to take. Without a doctor’s note and theoriginal packaging with their name on it, they wouldn’t be able totake their medication with them. Some people didn’t care becausethey didn’t take any medication, but Ana did care. She’s deathlyallergic to peanuts. Just to give you an idea of how allergic she is, letme tell you a short story.A couple of weeks ago, when Ana and Alysia were playing ahand clapping game, Ana’s hand suddenly started getting itchy. Then,moments later, a rash started to show! After showing a supervisionaide, she gave Ana a note for the nurse. The nurse gave Ana herallergy medication and it made the rash and itching go away.At first Ana didn’t know why her hand had gotten itchy. Itwasn’t until after she came out of the office and saw Alysia eatingsome peanut butter crackers that she figured it out. Alysia had eaten acouple of peanut butter crackers before playing her hand game withSAMPLE

Ana. Since Alysia hadn’t washed her hands, the residue on her handgot transferred to Ana’s hand, causing her allergic reaction!While Mrs. Whiston continued talking, Alejandro startedpassing out a packet with information we needed to give our parents.Frankie is absent, so it’s Alejandro’s turn to be Teacher’s Assistant.“Although we will only be staying there for four days and threenights, you may want to pack an extra set of clothes in case of anaccident. One year, a student who was focused on a bird flying above,slipped into a shallow bank and got all wet. Luckily, her father was aBoy Scout leader and had packed some extra supplies, including anextra set of clothes,” Mrs. Whiston shared, terrifying me in theprocess.◆ ◆ ◆I stayed home from school the following day. I convinced mymother that I wasn’t feeling well. And when Marcus showed up at myback door, mom told him that I was resting and that I could play whenI was feeling well again.On the second day, when she decided it was time to go to thedoctor’s office, I told her that I was starting to feel better. She handedme some papers from the packet that Mrs. Whiston had given us andtold me to make sure I turned them in.“There’s no way you’re getting left behind,” she said. “Not aftersomeone sponsored your remaining balance to make sure you couldSAMPLE

go.”When I got to school, the guys in the T.J. League all surroundedme and started asking me questions.“Where have you been?“What’s wrong?”“Were you dying?”“You’re still going to Science Camp, right?”“Guys. Guys! Let him breathe,” Sammy ordered, pushingeveryone back.“Well?” Justin said, as everyone gave me some space.“I don’t really feel one hundred percent right now, guys,” I said,walking to the breakfast line.I felt bad. I know that they are just showing that they care, but Istill haven’t gotten over what I realized two days ago. And until I do,I’m really not in the mood for talking.The rest of the day, I kept to myself. I even asked FunmakerJohn if I could take a day’s break from Future Funmaker duty I toldhim that I wasn’t feeling one hundred percent yet. He told me not toworry about it and to come back when I felt better.Luckily, Marcus got picked up after school because he had adentist appointment. That prevented an awkward walk home. Onethat would probably have been full of questions.When I got home, mom asked me how I felt. I told her that Iwas okay and went straight to my room to work on my homework.SAMPLE

Afterward, I stayed in my room and worked on my most recentcomic. Before I was able to finish, Marcus’ voice came over mywalkie-talkie.“Batman. Come in, Batman. This is Captain America. Over.”I sat on my bed, wondering if I should answer.“Batman. Come in, Batman. This is Captain America. Over.”Again, I didn’t move.“T.J.?” he tried for a third time. “T.J.? Come on. I know you’rethere. I can see your legs hanging off the bed.”Dang! I forgot we could see part of each other’s rooms from ourwindows. So much for hiding out.I reached over and grabbed my walkie talkie from mynightstand.“This is Batman. Over,” I said, with as much energy as I could.“Are you feeling better?” Marcus asked.“A little. I’d say I’m at seventy five percent,” I lied.“Feeling well enough to come outside and play?” he continued.“I don’t know,” I said, “how about a game of Life instead?”“Your house or mine?” he asked.“Tree house,” I answered.I walked over to my desk, took my chair, and placed it in frontof my closet. My board games are on a shelf above my clothes. Aftermoving some other games over, I grabbed the box, and replaced mySAMPLE

chair. When I got to the tree house, Marcus was sitting on his side ofthe platform, waiting.Without saying anything, I took the game out of the box andbegan setting it up. Marcus helped, also without saying anything. Itwas kind of weird though. The way he helped set up the game, toldme everything he was thinking.“I’m sorry,” I apologized.“For what?” he pretended to ask.“I think you know what,” I said, ashamedly.“You mean for lying to your best friend?” he said.“I didn’t mean to,” I said, defensively.“Kind of hard to believe,” he replied, setting up the last piecefor our game to begin.I sighed.“It’s like this.”I explained to Marcus that Mrs. Whiston had reminded us aboutour upcoming Science Camp trip. And that while she was explainingthat we should pack an extra set of clothes because the accident astudent once had, she had terrified me. And probably not for thereason you’re thinking about.I wasn’t afraid of slipping into a shallow bank. Or a deep bankfor that matter. Mom has made sure that Xochitl and I have beentaking swimming lessons ever since we turned five years old. NowSAMPLE

that I’m in fifth grade, there aren’t any more classes to take. I’vepassed all the classes the pool offers.No, it wasn’t the fear of falling into water and drowning. Whatterrified me, was a fact, that for some reason, I had never considered.Something super important. We are going to be staying over-night!And not just one night. Not even two nights. But three, whole, nights!How had I never realized that before!“What’s so terrifying about that?” Marcus asked.“What’s so terrifying? How about the fact that I’ve never gonemore than two nights without wetting my disposable underwear!” Isaid, holding up two fingers on my right hand.“Is that it?” he asked, calmly.I felt like repeating his question back at him again, but instead, Ispun the wheel to take my turn first.“Nice spin,” he said, as I moved my piece. “If it makes you feelany better, I’m kind of scared, too.”“What’re we going to do?” I asked, as he spun the same numberas I did.“Not sure what I can do,” he answered, as he moved his piecenext to mine.“What do you mean?” I asked, spinning again.“My parents have already paid for me to go,” he said, as I tookanother turn. “And it’s too late for a refund.”SAMPLE

“Yeah. There’s no way my mom would let me drop out,” I said,as I passed by college and chose a career. “She worked extra hours atwork to make sure that I could go, and someone sponsored the otherhalf that my dad was supposed to pay before his hours at work werereduced.”“Mr. Anderson told our class not to worry about certain things,including wetting the bed,” Marcus said, as he spun the wheel andgraduated college. “He told us that the cabin leaders are good at whatthey do. Including keeping secrets.”“I don’t follow,” I said, spinning again.“He said that if you wet the bed, they have a special code tonotify the staff. That way, while you’re eating breakfast and doingactivities, they come in and take your sleeping bag and clothes to becleaned, and put them back before anyone finds out,” he explained, asI moved my piece, just one spot shy of getting married.“But what about our overnight protection?” I asked, as he spunand chose a career. “Do we take that with us? Do we leave it athome?”“If you don’t trust the cabin leaders, just take them,” heanswered, as I moved my piece one space forward without spinning.It didn’t matter what number I spun. It was going to stop me at the‘get married’ space anyway.“It’s not that I don’t trust the cabin leaders. It’s guys in ourgrade I don’t trust,” I shared.SAMPLE

“Don’t we get to choose the people in our cabin?” Marcusasked, taking his turn.“That’s what Mrs. Whiston said,” I answered, landing on aspace that gave me a kid.“So, why don’t we just choose the guys in the T.J. League?” heasked, still not landing on the ‘get married’ space.“Telling you is one thing. Telling all the guys is another,” Iexplained, not taking my turn. “What if they don’t have the sameproblem?”“So,” was his response.“So? So? So, the only reason I told you, is because you told mefirst!” I admitted.“I can understand that,” he said, as we both leaned back, leavingthe game alone for the time being. “Either way, we both have a choiceto make.”“To bring? Or not to bring? That is the question,” I posed.“Indeed.”SAMPLE

9 Help Me, Please!We never did finish our game of Life. Instead, we started goingover everything we were about to do for our sleepover, since we juststarted planning it two days ago. You know, after that unexpectedconversation while washing our hands for breakfast.You see, Sunday is Marcus’ birthday. But since his family goesto church on Sundays, Marcus asked if he could celebrate it onSaturday. His parents said they didn’t have a problem with that.SAMPLE

I suggested we have a sleepover. You know, just me and him.Best friends. Staying up all night. You see, neither of us have everhosted or been to a sleepover before. Mainly because of our overnightproblem. We were too embarrassed. So, we want this to be the bestsleepover that anyone has ever been to! But, it was as we took a breakfrom our game and discussed the details, that Marcus informed methat other people would be attending the sleepover. And not just oneor two, but four! Why hadn’t he told me this before?“You were ‘sick’. Plus, it was a last second thing!” Marcus said,trying to calm me down. It’s not working.“But Marcus! We planned this sleepover specially, for us!” Ipointed out.“It won’t be that bad. I promise!” he said, trying to calm me.Again, not working.“How can you say that? You don’t know what’s going tohappen. There’s no way you can!” I said, standing up and pacing thewalkway.“Relax, T.J. You just have to trust me,” he said, standing upwith me.“It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s these new people I don’t trust,” Iexplained.“They’re good guys. Really, they are,” Marcus said, trying toget me to stop pacing. Do you think it worked? Nope!SAMPLE

“But it was just supposed to be us!” I exclaimed, as I stoppedpacing to look him in the eye.“I know. I know. And I’m sorry, T.J., really, I am,” heapologized. “But everything will be okay.”“You can’t know that, Marcus. You just can’t,” I said, pacingagain.Marcus stayed silent as I paced back and forth, trying to find away to make this better, I guess. But the more I think about it, theworse it becomes. For every good scenario I think up, at least threebad scenarios pop into my head. I just can’t see how this changecould be a good one.As I continued to pace, and Marcus continued to think, Danielcalled from Marcus’ bedroom window.“Dad just got home and said that since we’re eating out tonightthat we’re leaving in fifteen minutes,” he relayed.“Okay. Let me just tell my mom. I’ll be over right now,” I calledback, as Marcus and I packed up my board game. Once we finished, Iran back to my house.I immediately put my shoes on, then grabbed a sweater andquickly packed my overnight bag. I hurried down the hallway anddown the stairs into the kitchen where I could smell macaroni andcheese cooking. Mom was emptying a can of corn into a pot on thestove as I entered the kitchen.SAMPLE

“Daniel just said that since we’re going out to eat tonight thatthey’re leaving in fifteen minutes,” I said, hurriedly. “May I go over,now?”“Did you finish your homework?” mom asked, putting theempty can into the recycling box.“Yes,” I answered.“Any papers I need to sign?” she asked, stirring the corn.“Nope,” I said, getting a little irritated since I was kind of in ahurry.“Do you have a sweater?” she asked, opening the oven to checkon some dinner rolls.“Yes,” I said, slowly walking backward towards the back door.“And a change of clothes?” she continued to interrogate.“Yup!” I answered, placing my hand on the doorknob.“Okay,” she finished, as she closed the oven and turned around.“Hey, no kiss goodbye?”I hustled toward her, just wanting to get to Marcus’ housebefore they left me behind. Mom bent forward, waiting for her kiss. Igave her a quick peck and rushed to the back door.“No running in the house!” mom shouted, as I closed the backdoor and ran to the other side of my back yard. I threw my bag overand jumped the fence with ease and rushed into Marcus’ house.“I’m here!” I announced.SAMPLE

“T.J.!” Marcus yelled, as he came down the stairs. We did oursecret handshake and headed towards the front room.“So where are we going?” I asked Marcus, plopping down onhis living room couch.“Don’t know. Dad said it was a surprise,” Marcus answered,changing the channel on the television.We sat there, watching Family Feud, while we waited to leave.Someone had just answered ‘country music’, to the question, ‘whatcomes to mind when you hear the word ‘American?’’. Everyone wassaying ‘good answer,’ as Marcus and I were laughing our heads off.Who listens to country music anymore?“Into the car, boys,” Marcus’ dad ordered, as he turned off thetelevision.“Aw, dad,” Marcus said, turning the television back on. “Iwanted to see what the survey said.”“Okay. You can stay and find out,” his dad commented, “butwe’re going to Home Town Buffet.”“Forget the survey!” Marcus shouted, as he jumped off thecouch and ran towards the front door. I stood up slowly and chuckledas I turned off the television and then followed Marcus’ path.Home Town Buffet is Marcus’ favorite place to eat. So much so,that instead of having a birthday party, his parents told him just tomake a guest list and they would provide dinner. When Marcus askedSAMPLE

if he could have some more friends over for the sleep over afterward,they approved.And now I lay here, unable to sleep because I forgot myovernight protection when I hurriedly packed my overnight bag. I hadgotten so caught up in all the excitement at Home Town Buffet, that Iate much more food and gulped down much more soda than I hadoriginally planned to. And of course, I also forgot that Marcus’friends don’t know about my overnight problem. I was supposed tobarely drink anything so I wouldn’t have to worry about it. Epic fail.Of course, to my complete, and unexpected surprise, Marcushad only invited a special group of friends, and didn’t tell me about it.Friends from church. I guess he wasn’t lying when he said I didn’thave to worry. I doubt these guys would make fun of us for ournighttime issue. But it seems that Marcus isn’t embarrassed about hisnighttime problem anymore. I mean, I’m not either. At least not withMarcus. But there are other boys here! Actually, now that I thinkabout it, how did he find all these guys so quickly?When we had gotten back from Home Town Buffet, we spentall of our time in the den, playing games. When it was time to getready for bed, and we were all getting our sleeping spaces ready,Marcus explained how and why he had chosen these specific friendsto come to our sleepover.It seems that when I didn’t go to church because I was ‘sick’,Marcus had made a prayer request, for his ‘friend’ who was havingSAMPLE

issues being embarrassed about his ‘overnight problem’. Teacher Jeffhad explained that Marcus’ ‘friend’ shouldn’t be embarrassed andadded it to their Prayer Request list.After church, while their parents fellowshipped, some of theboys approached Marcus and shared that they had the same issue. Itwas then that Marcus had gotten the idea to invite them to oursleepover!It was actually kind of bizarre. When it came time to changeinto our pajamas, each boy, including Marcus, pulled out hisovernight protection. Seems no two boys used the same exactmethod.Joseph had specially padded underwear that looked like realunderwear. You would never know what they were for unless he toldyou. He even had special pads that you could insert, for extraprotection.Luke also had special underwear, but his had a wire coming outthat attached to a small plastic box. He had to turn the box on andthen put it in a small pouch in his underwear. He explained that analarm would go off and wake him up if it registered even the smallestdrop of liquid.Jonathen had a pair of wind breaker pants that had protectioninside but were also waterproof. Talk about no one ever finding out!But he still wore special underwear sort of like Joseph’s, just in case.SAMPLE

Kevin had what he said was a new kind of medicine that helpedhis body wake him up when he had to go. So, he didn’t need anyspecial underwear, but he still had a pair of disposable underwearbecause he knew he would be staying up all night, so he was going tobe extra tired.Of course, Marcus had his normal UnderJams. Except the oneshe showed us had a new design. I’m not sure where he got them, butthey had Captain America’s logo on the front. I remember him sayingsomething about a new ‘design your own drawers’ option online. Allyou had to do was send a picture for them to print on the front, andthey would ship them straight to your house! I guess I shouldn’t besurprised about what he chose for his design.And what did I have? Nothing. So, here I am. Lying awake attwo o’clock in the morning. Staring at the ceiling. Which I canactually see, by the way. There’s enough moonlight coming fromoutside that it’s lighting the room up with a blueish hue. Oh, why did Ihave to drink so much? And why don’t I have to go to the bathroomyet? I tried going before Marcus’ mom said, ‘lights out’, but as hardas I tried, I just couldn’t go. If I could just go, I wouldn’t be asworried.“T.J.?” Marcus whispered, half asleep, “are you awake?”“Yeah,” I answered, “can’t sleep.”“Bad dream?” he asked.“Nah. Just can’t sleep,” I answered.SAMPLE

“T.J.,” Marcus said, with a hint of ‘you’re hiding somethingfrom me,’ in his voice, “what’s wrong?”“Nothing,” I lied, “I just can’t seem to fall asleep.” Marcuswasn’t falling for it. He raised himself up onto his elbow and restedhis head on his hand.“T.J.,” he repeated, in a sing-song voice.“Okay. Okay,” I said, knowing he would invoke the ‘friendsdon’t tell friends lies’ pact we had made, after he shared his secretwith me. “I was having so much fun at Home Town Buffet that Iforgot I wasn’t supposed to drink a lot,” I began, “but I didn’t knowthat you were only inviting guys like us to the party!”Marcus just lay there smiling.“That and I forgot my overnight ‘just in case’ protection. So,I’ve been keeping myself awake by pinching myself every time I feelmyself falling asleep. That way I don’t have an accident,” I explained.Marcus put his free hand over his mouth to keep his laughter assilent as possible, so he wouldn’t wake anyone. How can he belaughing?SAMPLE

10 Just Between UsMarcus removed his blanket and stood to his feet. Just thenJoseph shifted in his sleep and mumbled something about nevergetting to be prince charming. Marcus and I muffled our laughterbecause that is kind of out of the ordinary. Joseph is a tough, rough,‘let’s do something crazy’, kind of guy. Guess everyone has a part oftheir life they don’t share with others.SAMPLE

Marcus proceeded to walk toward his staircase and stopped atthe bottom step. He turned around and gave me a ‘are you coming ornot’ look. I hurriedly got to my feet and followed him as he headedupstairs. It was so quiet in the house that it was almost scary.Marcus went into his room and I followed. Not knowing whatMarcus had planned, I sat on his bed and patiently waited as heshuffled through his underwear drawer like he was looking for ahidden compartment. Believe it or not, that’s exactly what he waslooking for.The only thing I wouldn’t help with, when Marcus was cleaninghis room, or when his mother put freshly folded clothes on his bed,was underwear. And because of that, I never knew that he had a boardat the back of the drawer to hide a stash of his overnight protection.Guess there’s things even he wanted to keep secret.Marcus turned around with a pair of Pull-Ups in his hand. Theyhad Buzz Lightyear and Woody prints on the front. He walked overand handed them to me with a ‘now go to sleep’ look on his face.“You still fit in these?” I whispered.“Does it look like I still fit in those?” Marcus answered myquestion with another question. “I just happen to keep a few extrapairs because Woody is my favorite Disney character.”I guess that makes sense. With that said, he turned around andheaded back to his dresser, closed his underwear drawer and left mealone in his room.SAMPLE

If you’re wondering how in the world these Pull-Ups are goingto fit me if they don’t fit Marcus, you have to remember something.I’m tiny! Second to third grade tiny. Marcus was probably this sizeback when he was in the second or third grade.Now, with that settled, I’m sitting here, staring at BuzzLightyear and Woody, deciding whether or not to put them on. In thebathroom, of course! I mean, it just feels kind of weird, since theydon’t belong to me. You get it, right? Shirts, pants and pajamas areone thing, but this is totally different.It was as I sat, trying to decide what I should do, that I finallygot that tingling sensation in my abdomen. I got up and headedstraight to the bathroom. I think I’m going to talk to my parents aboutgetting some of the underwear that Joseph has.◆ ◆ ◆I woke up dry the next morning to the smell of pancakes, eggsand bacon. At least I think they’re pancakes. I had been wrong thelast time I thought they were pancakes.Apparently, I wasn’t the last one to wake up. Marcus, Jonathen,Luke and Kevin were drawing on Joseph’s face when Marcus’s momcame in to tell us to wash up for breakfast. She wasn’t too happywhen she saw Marcus and the guys using some of her makeup todecorate Joseph’s face. She took away her makeup and woke him up,but not before Kevin was able to snap a picture with his tablet. YouSAMPLE

can imagine how happy, or should I say unhappy, Joseph was whenhe found out he looked like a badly drawn picture of Queen Amidalafrom Star Wars.◆ ◆ ◆After breakfast, we spent most of the morning playing videogames. Daniel said he was the best at Super Smash Brothers and wasproving his point by beating us one by one. Over and over. That isuntil Marcus started complaining to his mother that this was supposedto be his sleepover and that Daniel was ruining our fun.Daniel seemed a little upset when his mother asked him to helpher with the laundry. Actually, he almost took the game with him,since it was his game. Thankfully, his mother told him he had toshare, since it was her television and since she was the one who paidthe electric bill.With Daniel gone, we decided to have a tournament to see whowas the best fifth grader at Super Smash Brothers. There were somepretty close matches, but in the end, it was down to Marcus and mewhen his dad told all of us to get dressed so we could go somewhere.I was a bit confused because I had no idea we were going anywhereelse.As Marcus, the guys and I, walked toward the car, Daniel wasalready inside. When Marcus opened the door and asked Daniel toscoot over, he just sat there, staring ahead with his arms crossed. ISAMPLE

guess he’s still a bit angry we kind of kicked him out of our fun.Since Daniel didn’t want to move over, Marcus and the rest of uswalked around to the other side of the car and got in. Luckily, Marcusand Daniel are in sports, so they have a big SUV that fits everyone!“So, your mom and I decided that since this is a specialoccasion, we should have another special meal together,” Marcus’dad explained. “Now, I thought Home Town Buffet would be a goodidea, but if I recall, we already had that for dinner last night.”“I want Home Town Buffet!” Marcus exclaimed.“I thought you might,” his dad continued, “but then Momreminded me of a place you’ll all enjoy. And I agreed that it would bebetter.”“Where? Where?” Marcus asked, excitedly.I have to admit. I’m curious, too. Daniel must be interested too,because he’s finally broken his stare away from us and is looking athis dad to see what he’s going to say next.“You know, now that you ask, I can’t remember the name of it,”his dad said, with a smirk on his face, looking directly at Marcusthrough the rearview mirror.“Dad!” Marcus shouted.“Marcus,” his mom said, in a ‘calm down’ voice. Marcusslumped in his seat and folded his arms. He is definitely not enjoyingthis.SAMPLE

We drove in silence on the freeway for about fifteen minutes,anxious with delight, until I began to realize where we were going.We’re going to Golf Land! I haven’t been miniature golfing since thelast time Marcus’ church group had an excursion that allowed him toinvite family and friends.For those of you who don’t know, not only does Golf Land haveminiature golf, they also have an arcade, bumper cars, bumper boats,go karts, laser tag, and the best nachos around. I know, you’reprobably thinking to yourself, ‘nachos are nachos’, but trust me, thesenachos are better than any nachos you’ve ever had.First of all, they’re ‘build your own’ nachos. Secondly, theyhave different color cheeses to choose from. My favorite is greenbecause it looks like slime. And for toppings, they boast five differentkinds of shredded cheese, guacamole, pico de gallo, four differenttypes of salsa, four different types of meat, including bacon bits,American and Mexican sour cream, three different types of beans,including chili beans, and even different types of nacho chips. Plaintortilla chips, salted, cheese flavored, barbeque flavored, sour creamand onion, even salt and vinegar. I bet your mouth is watering bynow!First, we had lunch, then we all went to play golf. Marcus andhis friends versus Daniel, his mom and his dad. It was supposed to bekids versus adults, but Daniel didn’t want to be on our team. HeSAMPLE

vowed to help his parents beat us for not letting him play with usearlier.Marcus’ mom pointed out that it would be difficult to keepscore since the teams were uneven. Then, Marcus’ dad came up witha great idea. Instead of counting everyone’s score, we would onlycount the person that had the lowest score. Everyone agreed it was agreat idea.At first, we were winning, but then Daniel kept making all ofthese luck shots. I have no idea how he was doing it, but some ofthose shots were impossible! When it came down to hole eighteen,we were tied. This was it. The last hole. Whoever had the lowestscore would win. At least that’s what we thought. Marcus’ dadannounced that on this hole, we would add the lowest score and thehighest score. To make it more interesting.Since it was Marcus’ birthday, he went first. He hit his ball andmissed the middle slot that guaranteed your ball would be near thehole. Daniel was next. He made it in the middle, no problem. So, dideveryone else. Everyone else except for Marcus’ mom, that is. I thinkshe missed on purpose. Daniel sunk his ball in the hole on his nextshot. So, did everyone else. That left it down to Marcus and his mom.Every time Marcus would miss, so would his mom. Like I saidbefore, I think she missed on purpose. They kept missing for the nextfive shots. It was his mom’s turn when his dad declared it was a tie.Daniel was not happy, but the guys and I understood what his momSAMPLE

was doing, and we were okay with it. With that finally over, wehanded in our clubs, since hole eighteen keeps the ball after you makeit, and headed back to the truck.“Same spots!” Daniel declared, and once again refused to moveover.On the way home, I could feel sleep coming on. Hard. I’m notsurprised, though. I mean, I had gone to sleep after two o’clock in themorning! Normally, I would be too embarrassed to sleep in front ofall the guys, but when I heard Joseph softly announce that he wantedto be prince, I realized that everyone else had already fallen asleep.Even Marcus. I shifted my body, adjusted my seat belt, and rested myhead on Marcus’ shoulder.◆ ◆ ◆We were all awakened when Marcus’ dad announced that wehad arrived at Kevin’s house. He started climbing over the middleseat to get out of the truck when Marcus told him to wait.“What for?” Jonathen asked.“Before anyone leaves, we have to make a deal,” Marcusannounced.“What kind of a deal?” Luke asked.“The kind that nobody can break,” Marcus said, in a seriousvoice.SAMPLE

“Just tell us already,” Kevin ordered, “my mom is waiting forme at the front door.”“Okay. It’s like this. I invited all of you to my sleepover for onereason. And I think you all know what that reason is,” Marcus said.“Yeah.”“I know why.”“Pretty much.”“Just get on with it already.”“Okay. Okay. The deal is, we keep it just between us,” hedeclared, making eye contact with all of us, one by one. “Nobody tellsanyone else. No matter how angry we might get with each other. Ourlips stay sealed. Just. Between. Us. Deal?”“Deal,” everyone said, in unison.“Good.”SAMPLE

11 IT’S MY FAULTAfter Marcus’ dad finished dropping everyone off at home, wewent back to his house for a smaller family celebration.It was weird. Since it was a last-minute sleep over for all hisfriends from church, his mom told their moms not to bring anypresents. It was the first birthday party I had ever gone to where wedidn’t open presents or have cake and ice cream!“Okay, boys, go wash up so we can sing happy birthday andhave some cake and ice cream,” Marcus’ mom said, as we entered hisSAMPLE

house.“Can T.J.’s mom and dad and sister come?” Marcus asked hisdad.“If that’s what you want,” his dad said, looking at his mom, whonodded her head and shrugged her shoulders.“I’ll go call them,” Marcus said, hurrying to the back door. Istayed with Daniel and washed my hands. I was in no hurry to seeXochitl. Mom and Dad maybe. Not Xochitl. It took a few minutes forMarcus to return, but Xochitl was right behind him, of course. Momand dad came through the back door shortly after.Now, I may have forgotten to mention this, but after I sprainedmy ankle awhile back, jumping our backyard fence, we installed agate. Luckily, dad has had some extra time lately.After shaking hands and exchanging hugs, Mom and dadfollowed Marcus’ mom and dad into the dining room, where Marcus,Daniel, Xochitl and I were waiting around the table.Marcus’ dad closed the curtains while his mom put the candleson his cake. Then we all stood around the table while Marcus sat infront of his cake as we waited for his dad to light the candles.“Dad, I would like to say something,” Marcus said, in thealmost complete darkness, before his dad could light his candles.“Okay,” his dad responded, backing away from the cake.“I just want to say that it was about a year ago that my dadfound out that his job would be moving. A year ago, that I found outSAMPLE

that I would have to leave everything I ever knew. And it was about ayear ago that I made a wish before blowing out my birthday candles.A wish, I’m glad to say, didn’t come true,” Marcus said, with asomber voice.“What?” I asked, confused. Usually, we’re happy when ourwish does come true.“Let’s just say that at first, I wasn’t too happy about movingaway from our old neighborhood and my old school,” Marcus said,looking intently at his cake, “but I’m glad that we did.”He then looked at his mom and his dad and finally at Daniel.“I was happy at our old home. Even though Daniel and I weresharing a room and the people living above us would be loudsometimes, we were happy. My old teacher would give us a piece ofcandy if we turned in our homework on time. The park had a spraypool you could play in when it was hot outside. And our house wasclose enough to the coffee shop to get free Wi-Fi.“When we moved here, I didn’t know if there would be any kidsmy age who lived nearby. I didn’t know if my teacher would be nice.And I didn’t know if I would make any friends at school like the onesI already had.“Then, I was challenged to a race,” Marcus continued.“Hey! You challenged me!” I corrected.“Either way, that race was the best thing to ever happen to me.Now, I have my own room. There are plenty of kids around. And I’veSAMPLE

made the bestest friend anyone could ever ask for,” Marcus said, ashe stood up and gave me a hug, which I gladly returned.When he sat back down, Marcus’ dad lit the candles on hiscake, and we all sang happy birthday. I’m not sure what he wished forthis time, but I’m glad that his last wish didn’t come true.◆ ◆ ◆When we got to school on Monday, as usual, Justin was, howshould I put this, LOUD!“How could you!” he shouted at me, before I even made it tothe breakfast line.“How could I what?” I asked, completely confused.“Don’t act dumb with me!” he said.“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” I said, moving himout of the way so I could get my breakfast.“Dude! They tagged you!” he continued to shout, shoving hisphone in my face.It was a picture of me at Marcus’ sleepover. We were posingbehind Joseph in his Queen Amidala makeover. Actually, there weremore. Justin took the next few seconds, to swipe through a handful ofpictures he had taken screen shots of.Now, I don’t have a phone yet, so I have no idea what app thesepictures were posted on. Who am I kidding? If you’re a kid, or aSAMPLE

parent who knows anything about social media, you know that youdon’t have to own a phone to have social media.Mom and dad said I can’t have a social media account yet, butall my friends have one. Except for Marcus of course. And I didn’tmean to disobey my parents, but at Marcus’ sleepover, one of hisfriends said that since he couldn’t text me the pictures, he had set upan account for me so he could tag me in them. And technically, Ihaven’t downloaded the app on my tablet. Yet.“Are you going to tell me you have no idea about these?” Justinasked, angrily pulling his phone away from my face.“Can you just let me get some breakfast first?” I asked, joiningthe back of the line.“Fine,” he answered, “but don’t think this is over, yet!”Normally, I would eat outside with the guys, at our table, but Ithink I’ll eat inside today. Seems safer for some reason.“T.J., what are you doing in here?” Xochitl asked, as I sat at thetable next to the table that she was sitting at.“What? I can eat inside if I want to,” I responded, opening mycereal bowl.“But you never eat inside,” she pointed out.“So, what! I just feel like eating inside today,” I said, pouringmilk into my cereal.Luckily, you can only come into the cafeteria if you’re going toeat breakfast or add money to your account, so Justin couldn’t comeSAMPLE

inside to continue berating me. But wait! What if he’s out thereberating Marcus? Oh, great. Well, guess I’m going to have to answerto Justin sooner or later. Actually, I’m sure that the rest of the T.J.League have seen the pictures, too.First, Marcus saved me from that bully. Then, he saved me withWoody and Buzz Lightyear at his sleepover. And he called me thebestest friend anyone could ask for. Sigh. Guess I have no choice. Ijust hope I can make it outside without spilling my cereal.As I walked towards the exit, something unexpected happened.The fire alarm started blaring. Everyone in the cafeteria startedscreaming, upsetting the supervision aide and cafeteria manager.We’ve never had a fire drill before school has started, but Iguess all the ones we’ve had during school have paid off. Everyonejust headed to their normal meeting spots, including the teachers. Theonly person who seems panicked is the custodian. She ran across theblacktop, toward the three hundred wing.Just as she reached one of the side rooms, Principal Martinez’svoice boomed over the outside speakers, while the alarm continued toring.“Staff and students. Thank you for your quick and safe responseto the fire alarm. Fortunately, it’s a false alarm and we can set it tomute, so everyone is safe. Unfortunately, we’re having technicaldifficulties shutting it off, so we won’t hear the school bell ring in aSAMPLE

few minutes. I will make an announcement when it is time to head toclass, so no one misses out on learning.”Aw, man! And I’ve already thrown away my breakfast!“T.J.!” came a voice from behind me. “T.J., we’ve got to hide!”“Marcus? Why do we have to hide?” I asked.“The whole T.J. League is after us!” he declared, grabbing mywrist and wrenching me towards the four hundred wing.“After us? Why?” I asked, still thinking about the breakfast Ihad just missed out on.“The sleepover. Duh!” he shouted, as we hurried across theblacktop.“There they are!” Sammy cried, blocking our path to the fourhundred wing bathroom.“Don’t let ‘em get away!” Justin shouted, coming from our left.“I’ve got this side!” Paul yelled from our right.“They won’t escape!” Erick hollered, as we turned around tomake our escape.“They’ve got us surrounded!” Marcus yelled.“Um, I think you’re forgetting that we’re the two fastest peopleat this school,” I reminded Marcus. “If we wanted to, we could splitup and they would never catch us!”“You’re right!” he said, excitedly.“Then let’s go!” I exclaimed.SAMPLE

“But then we’ll have to run again at recess. And lunch recess.And after school. And tomorrow. And—.”“Okay. Okay. I get it!” I said, covering his mouth before hecould continue.“We might as well face them now,” he said, removing my handfrom his face.“If you say so,” I resigned.“We got you!” Justin shouted, as the T.J. League encircled us.“Actually, we let you catch us,” I pointed out.“Whatever,” Erick said.“So, what do you guys have to say for yourselves?” Paul said.“Don’t get mad at Marcus,” I said. “It’s all my fault.”“What do you mean?” Sammy asked.“Yeah, what do you mean?” Marcus asked, just as confused asSammy.SAMPLE

12 The Winner Is!I know all the guys, and Sammy, were in a hurry to find out whyit was my fault, but I promised to tell them why during lunch recess, ifthey didn’t bother Marcus or me until then. They didn’t look veryhappy, but they all agreed to my terms anyway. And that made mehappy. Why? Because I have no idea what I’m going to tell them. Yet.◆ ◆ ◆SAMPLE

“After calculating everyone’s votes, we have a winner for thebest story written, for our creative writing assignment,” Mrs. Whistonannounced, as we all took our seats. “And it seems like we have alandslide decision from both classes!”Everyone in the class started whispering to each other, trying toguess whose story had won the contest. Justin looked at me, as if Iknew the answer, but I have no idea who it is. Carissa’s story waspretty good. And I didn’t vote for myself because I couldn’t!“But!” Mrs. Whiston said loudly, trying to regain our attention,“we won’t be announcing our winner until just before lunch.”Everyone started groaning, except for Jefferson, who was toobusy changing the date on the board since Jessica had forgotten to.Ever since Mrs. Whiston and Mr. Anderson announced that the prizefor the winner was a special lunch with Principal Martinez, a rumorhad been going around, that he had a personal chef that cooked himwhatever he wanted for lunch. No matter how special or exotic.“Until then, we’ll be getting together with Mr. Anderson’s classto figure out cabin groups.”Groans quickly turned to cheers, except for Jefferson, again.He’s too busy organizing his pencil box to join in our celebration. Theonly thing I’ve ever seen him celebrate are perfect scores on a test orwhen Mrs. Whiston announces a project or essay.“Okay. Okay. Bring it back down,” Mrs. Whiston ordered.“Before you all start making plans, please keep in mind that Mr.SAMPLE

Anderson and I have to approve your groups before we send them tothe camp directors.”“Why?” some people asked.“Because we know you guys,” she answered, “and although welove you—.”“‘We don’t trust you as much as we love you’,” we all saidtogether, finishing a saying she’s been telling us since kindergarten.“Okay, let’s get attendance done quickly, so we can meet Mr.Anderson’s class at the play structure,” Mrs. Whiston said.◆ ◆ ◆“If you can hear me, clap once,” Mr. Anderson instructed. Mostpeople clapped. “If you can hear me, clap twice.” More peopleclapped after his second instruction.“Boys and girls, we are going to give you a few minutes to gettogether and create groups of no more than six people,” Mrs. Whistonexplained. “Once you have your group, please send a representativeto grab a pencil and a clip board so you can write your names downon a cabin sheet.”“Please remember,” Mr. Anderson started, “all groups must beapproved by Mrs. Whiston or myself.” Some students groaned whileothers didn’t care. “If you do not have a group, please come to us andwe will help you find one.”SAMPLE

“Any questions?” Mrs. Whiston asked. Nobody raised theirhand.“Okay. Let’s go,” Mr. Anderson said, motioning with his hands.The T.J. League, minus Sammy, made a bee line for each other.I’m pretty sure that it was a no-brainer to our teachers that we wouldall be together for our cabin group.“T.J., you might as well go and get the clipboard,” Erick said,clapping me on the back.“And don’t think we forgot about what you said earlier!” Justincalled, as I walked toward Mrs. Whiston.“Well, that was quick,” Mr. Anderson commented, as Iapproached him for a clipboard.“I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Whiston said.“Make sure you write the first and last name of everyone inyour group,” Mr. Anderson instructed.“I will,” I said.“So, who’s going to do the writing?” Paul asked. “Myhandwriting is too sloppy.”“I’ll do it,” Marcus offered.After writing everyone’s name on our paper, I returned theclipboard to Mrs. Whiston. Before I even made it back to my group,Mr. Anderson blew his whistle because some people had startedplaying on the play structure.SAMPLE

“This is not recess. If you’d like, we can take minutes off yourrecess,” Mr. Anderson announced, in a loud voice, so that everyonecould hear.People immediately got off the slides and swings, while othersrushed off the jungle gym and bridge.“If you have already set up your group and have turned in yourcabin group sheet, please sit in a circle with your cabin mates,” Mrs.Whiston instructed.“What are we supposed to do?” Alysia asked.“You can begin discussing some of the things you are lookingforward to doing at camp,” she answered.“All right, T.J.,” Justin started.“Uh uh,” I interrupted.“Aw, c’mon!” Paul said.“I told you. If anyone bothers us before lunch—.”“But—,” Erick started.“Buh, buh, buh!” I interrupted, holding my finger up to his lips.“One more time and I won’t tell you my deepest, darkest secret!”Everyone, except for Marcus, crossed their arms and gave me a‘how dare you’ look. I shrugged my shoulders, shook my head andgave them an ‘I already told you’ look.To keep themselves from asking about the pictures, Erick,Justin, Paul and Sammy are keeping their distance from Marcus andSAMPLE

me during recess. At least I think that’s why they’re not with us. Thatbetter be the reason they’re staying away from us.“You’re not going to break your promise? You’re not going totell them are you!” Marcus asked, as we sat, not swinging on theswings.“Of course not!” I answered.“So, what are you planning on telling them?” he asked.“My biggest, darkest secret,” I said, confidently.“You mean that there’s something so big and dark that youhaven’t even told me yet?” Marcus asked. “What happened to ‘bestfriends don’t keep secrets’?”“They don’t,” I said.“Then,” he said, with a ‘are you going to tell me or what?’ lookon his face.“You already know,” I said, in a ‘duh, do you really think I’dbreak a promise’ voice, as I stood up from my swing and startedwalking towards the Buddy Bench.“T.J.!” Marcus called, hurrying to catch up with me. I didn’tstop to wait. I just kept walking until I reached the Buddy Bench.After sitting down, Marcus joined me, sitting right beside me.“I’m confused,” he said, turning to face me.“I’m not,” I said, scanning the blacktop. “I spy with my littleeye—.”SAMPLE

“You’re not seriously trying to change the subject, are you?”Marcus asked, with a ‘c’mon dude’ voice.“Milk shakes,” I said, still scanning the blacktop.“‘Milk shakes?’”“‘Milk shakes’,” I repeated.For those of you who don’t know. Marcus and I have a secretlanguage that we use sometimes. We usually use it when we don’twant the people around us to know what we’re talking about. Usuallykids we don’t know, our teachers or our parents. We don’t do it bemischievous. We usually do it just to make sure that we’re on thesame page.‘Milk shakes’ means ‘trust me.’ And not just any kind of trust.The highest kind of trust there is. The kind of trust that you don’tsecond guess. The kind of trust that means I’m one hundred percentsure. The kind of trust that is unbreakable.“Okay, T.J. I’m trusting you,” Marcus said, facing forward.“I spy with my little eye—.”◆ ◆ ◆When we came in from recess, we started working on ourAmplify the Artist project. Amplify the Artist is a program wheresomeone comes to our school and teaches us about a famous artistfrom history. You know, about their childhood, about how theybecame an artist, and why they are important to art history. Then, aSAMPLE

few days later, the people come into our classroom and teach us howto make art like the artist did. It’s pretty cool. I may not be any goodat sports, but I do enjoy art.This month’s artist is Van Goh, so we’re doing the Starry Nightpainting. Well, we don’t have to do Starry Night. We can dosomething else, as long as it’s in the same style as the Starry Night.So, of course, I’m doing Batman! Well, not all of Batman. Just hislogo. When the commissioner turns on the Bat Signal. You know, theway it looks when it’s coming from the top of the Gotham City PoliceDepartment building? Like that. I’ve actually already done a sketch ofwhat I want it to look like. All I have to do is recreate it using thepaints they’re supplying for us.As we were working on our artwork, the phone rang.“This is Mrs. Whiston. Yes. They’re in the middle of theirAmplify the Artist project. Yes, I’m sure they can finish it later. Okay.Will do. Bye,” Mrs. Whiston said, as we all stared at her, wonderingwho she was talking to and what she was talking about. Well,everyone except Jefferson, of course. He’s too focused on trying tomake his project as perfect as he can.“That was Principal Martinez. Seems it’s time to announce thewinner of our creative writing assignment,” she announced. “Thewinner is…”SAMPLE

13 That Was It?“T.J.!” Mrs. Whiston said, with a big smile on her face.“What?”“Huh!”“I knew it!”The whole class began to cheer so loudly that the teacher nextdoor opened the door connecting our classrooms to see what wasgoing on.SAMPLE

“Sorry,” Mrs. Whiston apologized. “The class just found outwho won a special lunch with Mr. Martinez for their creative writingstory.”“Who won?” she asked.“T.J.!” everyone shouted. Everyone except for Jefferson. Am Isurprised? Nope.“Congratulations, T.J.!” she exclaimed.“Thanks, ma’am,” I said, as people came and patted me on myback.“What about our deal?” Justin whispered, into my right ear.That’s a good question. I didn’t know that my story would bevoted the best when I made my deal with the T.J. League. Then again,I could use this as a way to get out of telling the guys. Nah. It won’twork. I’ll still have to tell them in the end. I think I’m going to haveto make a deal with Principal Martinez so that I can keep my promise.“Go ahead, T.J.,” Mrs. Whiston instructed, “you can finish yourproject another time.”“Yes, ma’am,” I said, pushing in my chair.As I walked to the office, I wondered what I was going to tellPrincipal Martinez. I mean, I really was excited to find out if he had apersonal chef that would cook him anything he wanted. But was itworth the guys being upset with me? It’s bad enough they’re angrythat they weren’t invited to the sleepover. Sorry Principal Martinez,we’re definitely going to have to reschedule our lunch.SAMPLE

“T.J.!” Mr. Ellis greeted, as I entered the office. “I heard thenews. Congratulations!”“Thank you, Mr. Ellis,” I said, shaking his outstretched hand.“Go on into Mr. Martinez’s office,” he instructed.I walked past the front desk and obliged Mrs. Kelley with a highfive as she held up her hand.“T.J.!” Principal Martinez said, echoing Mr. Ellis.“Congratulations! I read your story and I must agree with your peers.It was frightening but fantastic!”“Thank you, sir,” I said, excited, but a bit embarrassed.“Go ahead and take a seat,” he said, gesturing to a chair.“Before we get started, there’s something I have to say,” I toldprincipal Martinez.“Okay,” he said, leaning against his desk, while soundingconcerned.“I kind of promised the T.J. League that I would tell themsomething important at lunchtime, so I was wondering if we couldreschedule our special lunch?” I said, honestly, while looking down.Principal Martinez didn’t say anything for a few seconds, so Ilooked up to see what he was doing. He just sat there, smiling at me.“T.J., you never cease to renew my confidence in humanity,” hecommented.“What?” I said, confused as to what he meant by ‘renew myconfidence in humanity’.SAMPLE

“I don’t know how that heart stays inside of your chest, T.J. Itruly don’t. I just know that the world needs a lot more T.J.’s,” hesaid.Now, I still don’t know what he means, but he also still hasn’tanswered my first question.“So, does that mean we can reschedule?” I asked.“Absolutely,” he answered. “In fact, I’m going to let you choosewhat we’re going to eat.”“Huh?” I said.“You tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll make sure it’s readywhen you arrive,” he explained.“So, you do have your own private chef!” I said, excitedly,standing up from my chair.“What?” Principal Martinez said, with a confused smile on hisface.“I heard that you have your own private chef that cooks youwhatever you want. No matter how exotic!” I exclaimed.Principal Martinez started chuckling. Then he started laughing.Then he started crying. From laughter. I just stood there. Completelyconfused.“I’ve heard some pretty outlandish rumors while being theprincipal of this school, but this one takes the cake,” he said, betweenbreaths and quiet laughter.“So, you don’t have your own personal chef?” I asked.SAMPLE

“Unfortunately, no, I don’t, but let’s just keep that between us. Ikind of like that one,” he said, wiping away one last laughter tear.“Okay, I will,” I agreed.“So, any ideas on what you would like to eat?” he asked, takinga seat, then grabbing a notepad and pen.“Does it have to be something that the cafeteria can make, orcan it be something like fast food,” I asked.“Whichever you prefer,” was his response.Whichever I prefer? Whichever I prefer. Cafeteria or fast food. Istroked my chin while thinking of the perfect meal for our speciallunch. As I scanned the room, slowly walking in a circle, the answerpopped into my head.“I know what I want!”◆ ◆ ◆“I thought you were supposed to be having your special lunchwith Principal Martinez,” Erick said, as we ate our cafeteria lunch.“Yeah. Does he really have his own personal chef!” Paul asked.“You guys seriously believe that?” Sammy asked.“What? It could be true!” Paul said, confidently.“There’s no way that there’s money in the budget for a personalchef for anyone at this school,” Sammy said, confidently.I wasn’t sure if she was right about the whole budget thing, but Iwasn’t one to doubt her intelligence. At least not that often. Plus, itSAMPLE

kept me from having to answer the question.“Personal chef or not, don’t think we’ve forgotten about ourdeal,” Justin said, getting straight to the point as usual.Marcus gave me a look of terror which surprised me because heisn’t easily frightened. I mouthed the words ‘milk shakes’ to try andhelp calm his nerves. He took a deep breath and continued eating hisfries.“Don’t worry,” I said, looking Justin straight in the eyes, “whydo you think I’m here instead of with Principal Martinez?”“What?” Erick asked.“Yeah,” I said, shifting my gaze to Erick. “I explained toPrincipal Martinez that I had made a deal with you guys and he let mereschedule our lunch.”“You really did that?” Sammy asked. “For us?”“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t keep my promises?”I asked, looking each T.J. League member directly in the eyes.“So, are you going to tell us or not?” Justin asked, crossing hisarms.“All in due time, Justin. All in due time,” I said, taking a bite ofmy black bean veggie burger.I can honestly say that I never thought that I would likeanything vegetarian. But these new black bean veggie burgers,they’re actually pretty good.◆ ◆ ◆SAMPLE

After we finished our lunch, we headed to the Big Tree. We stillaren’t allowed to wander the field, and Heroes and Villains has beenrotated out of available games to play. Luckily, Frisbees have beenrotated in, so we can toss it back in forth to each other on the field,while discussing personal matters, far away from other people’s ears.“So, I know you guys are upset that Marcus didn’t invite you tohis sleepover,” I started, “but it wasn’t meant to be a big sleepover. Itwas meant to be just me.”“So, how did all of those other kids end up at his house?” Paulasked.I took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and exhaled slowly.Here goes. I just hope the guys don’t make fun of me. Or even worse.I hope they don’t disband the T.J. League!“It’s like this—.”I explained how I was afraid of sleeping three whole nights atScience Camp. When they asked why, I told them my deepest darkestsecret. I told them that even though I’m a fifth-grade student, I stillwet the bed. Nobody said anything at first. Which was terrifying. Butthe fact that nobody laughed, made it a bit better. Sort of.“I still don’t understand how that led to all those people atMarcus’ house for a sleepover,” Paul said.I then explained how Marcus had offered a prayer request atchurch, for his friend at school, who was embarrassed about stillwetting the bed. And how some of his church friends had come up toSAMPLE

him after church and explained that I shouldn’t be embarrassedbecause they still wet the bed, too.Oops! I think I just broke our pact!Then I told them how Marcus re-organized the sleepover at thelast minute. And how thankful I was that he would take the focus offhimself for his most important day of the year. And how because ofhis selflessness, I now have the courage to not only share my secretwith the rest of the T.J. League, but I am now unafraid of going toScience Camp.Once again, everyone stayed quiet. We just tossed the Frisbeearound in silence for a moment or so. Instead of being peaceful, it’sactually the most nerve-wracking moment or so of my life! Finally,Justin broke the silence.“That was it?” he asked.SAMPLE

14 Off We Go!‘That was it?’ What did he mean ‘that was it’? That was themost difficult thing that I’ve ever had to do!If you would have told me last week that by this week I wouldbe sharing my deepest, darkest secret with my best friend, a group ofchurch friends, and the entire T.J. League, I would have told you tocheck your crystal ball again. I would have called you crazy. I wouldSAMPLE

have said that it was a secret that I was going to take to the grave.There is no way that I ever planned to tell anyone. No one. Ever.An unexpected thing happened, though. After Justin said, ‘that’sit?’, Marcus told the guys about his nighttime nemesis. He told themhow he wears disposable overnight underwear because he still wetsthe bed. I had told the guys that I wet the bed, but Marcus took it astep further and basically admitted to still wearing diapers. For bigkids that is. I couldn’t let him go it alone, so I walked over to Marcus,put my arm around his shoulder, and admitted it, too.Erick, Paul, Justin and Sammy all exchanged blank glancesbefore finally looking back at us. Then an even stranger thinghappened. Justin walked over and decided to tell us his deepestdarkest secret. That led to Erick, Paul and Sammy sharing theirdeepest darkest secrets. It seems that Marcus’ and my courage hascreated an air of trust that the T.J. League has never experiencedbefore. A trust you don’t second guess. A trust that says, ‘I’m onehundred percent okay with telling you this because you won’t tellanyone else’. A trust that knows that whatever your secret is, youwon’t be made fun of. A trust that says, ‘when you’re done telling us,we’ll still be friends’. An unbreakable trust.Justin told us that although he really likes basketball, he loveswater polo. None of us understood how that qualified as a deep, dark,secret. Before continuing on, he took the same kind of deep breath Ihad taken before telling the guys that I still wet the bed.SAMPLE

Justin clarified that just like with every sport, water polo has aspecific uniform. I have never seen water polo, so I have no idea whathe’s talking about. He told us that it was the smallest uniform of allthe sports, except for diving. He said that the uniforms for diving andwater polo were similar, but they had one thing in common. Speedos.Sammy was quick to correct him by telling him that Speedoswas a brand. She told him that what he meant to say was that hewears a ‘swim brief’. When Marcus said that he didn’t know whatSpeedos or swim briefs were, Justin explained that they were just likeunderwear briefs, except they were made for swimming in the pool.Once again Sammy corrected him. She explained that outside of theUnited States, the most common bathing suit boys wore at pools andbeaches, were swim briefs.After telling him that there’s nothing wrong with his uniform,we asked why we had never been invited to any of his games.“I was embarrassed. Duh!” was his answer.After some laughter, Erick said that even though he and Victorhad come in second place during the annual dance off, using a hip-hop dance routine, his favorite type of dance is ballet. He thenrevealed that he’s actually been taking ballet classes since he was sixyears old, after his grandmother took him to see the Nutcracker balletat Christmas time. He said that he’s so good that he actually got a soloin last year’s production of the Nutcracker!SAMPLE

Paul said that he didn’t believe him, so Erick did what he saidwas called a triple pirouette. I’m not sure what ‘pirouette’ means. AllI know is that first, he put his arms in front of him and made a circle,as if he was carrying an invisible ball. Then, he placed one leg behindthe other and spun around three times before landing exactly the waythat he started. We all tried to imitate his motions, but most of usended up in the grass, laughing, because we could only spin one timebefore falling on our butts.We all agreed that if Erick didn’t invite us to his next show, orrecital as Sammy pointed out, he would be officially disbanded fromthe T.J. League.After we all got up and dusted ourselves off, Sammy told us thateven though a lot of people think that she is the smartest person infifth grade, she doubts herself all the time. She said that it gives her alot of anxiety and that’s why she’s always reading and studying. Tomake sure that she doesn’t let other people down. Especially herparents. She explained that she gets in trouble if she gets anythinglower than an A on an assignment or test.“I even get in trouble for A minuses!” she told us.‘They’re almost B’s!’ her father would say. She explained thather mother never went to college and that her dad didn’t even finishhigh school. Luckily, his first job was sweeping floors and taking outthe trash for a local comic book store. Her parents just want to makesure that she goes to college and becomes successful.SAMPLE

We told her that it was okay to make mistakes. We make themall the time. It’s what proves that we’re human and not mindlessrobots. We all gave her a group hug when her eyes started filling upwith tears. To everyone who’s reading this, always remember,nobody’s perfect. Everyone makes mistakes.Then, Paul explained that although we know him for being avideo game aficionado, he actually has a secret stash of dolls. Disneyprincesses and princes to be more precise. At his grandma’s house.His grandma has secretly gotten him one for Christmas and hisbirthday every year, ever since he wanted to be Cinderella forHalloween, back in kindergarten. He made us promise to keep it asecret, because his dad doesn’t know and wouldn’t approve.He told us that he also has a sketchbook where he keeps hisdrawings and fashion designs. He said that he’s even drawn eachDisney princess and prince as if they lived in our times. You know,with different hair styles and wearing the types of clothes that we do.He shared that last part with excitement in his voice and a smile thatstretched from ear to ear.We told him that there was nothing wrong with playing withdolls and promised not to tell his dad about them, but we insisted thatthe next sleepover be at his house. We were all interested in seeing hissketchbook!When Funmaker John blew his whistle and shouted, ‘down anddone,’ the whole T.J. League obeyed. After blowing his whistle for usSAMPLE

to line up, we all walked together, our arms around each other’sshoulders. You see, something has just happened. Somethingimportant. Something none of us saw coming. Our friendship hasleveled up. Who knew that sharing the most horrifying facts aboutour lives would bring us closer than ever before? I sure didn’t. Whenwe stepped off the grass and onto the blacktop, we took our first stepas the new and improved T.J. League.◆ ◆ ◆Well, my bags are packed and I’m ready for Science Camp.After our Frisbee toss time during lunch, I’m no longer afraid orembarrassed about bringing my overnight protection. Knowing thatI’ll be in a cabin full of trustworthy friends, I have no reason to be.All I’m focused on is the fun things that we’ll be doing. Going onhikes. Playing games. Rock climbing. Archery. I’m even lookingforward to the night hike, even though I’m usually a bit afraid of thedark. Okay, maybe a lot afraid. But knowing that the T.J. League willbe there to have my back, I’m okay. It also helps to know that someof them are just as anxious about the night hike as I am.When I got to school, some people were already there with theirparents. Some people had huge luggage cases and some people hadgym bags or backpacks. I have a special Batman suitcase that mygrandma bought me for Christmas a couple of years ago. We all havea sleeping bag and a pillow.SAMPLE

“T.J.!” I heard Paul shout, as my mom and dad walked me to themeeting spot in front of the school. Xochitl was clinging to mom andcrying. Although her favorite pastime is annoying me and tattling onme, it seems she’s going to miss me while I’m gone.“Paul!” I shouted back, dropping my pillow and running to givehim a hug. He opened his backpack a smidge to reveal a purplesketchbook with tattered corners. I gave him an intense ‘is that what Ithink it is?’ look. He raised his eyebrows, gave me a massive smile,then closed his backpack.“You dropped something back there, T.J.,” my dad said, handingme back my Batman pillow. You know, the one that was on top of mybookshelf. The one I only use for special occasions. Yeah, thatBatman pillow. You see, there’s a strict ‘no stuffed animals’ policy,but technically Batman isn’t a stuffed animal. He’s a character pillow!Little by little more people showed up. Eventually, Mr.Anderson and Mrs. Whiston joined us at the meeting spot. Mr.Anderson was passing out tape and markers for people who hadforgotten to mark their bags while Mrs. Whiston was collecting lastminute permission slips and medications.Finally, after the tardy bell rang, Mr. Anderson and Mrs.Whiston had us line up so that they could take attendance. Eventhough Science Camp is open to all fifth graders, some people haveopted not to go.“Erick,” Mr. Anderson called out for a third time.SAMPLE

Man! Erick is always late!“I’m here!” came a voice from behind us. It was Erick, runningas fast as he could, while carrying his gym bag, sleeping bag andpillow. His mother wasn’t too far behind, waving a paper above herhead. It seems Erick was one of the people who hadn’t turned in theirpermission slip yet.“I was just about to call home,” Mr. Anderson said, takingErick’s permission slip and adding it to his clipboard.“Is everyone ready for a trip they’ll remember for the rest oftheir lives!” Principal Martinez’s voice boomed, as we saw the busesturn the corner.“Yeah!” we all said.“I don’t know Mrs. Whiston. I’m not sure I heard anything,” hecommented.“Yeah!” we all shouted, in excitement.“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” he said, with a huge smileon his face. “Remember, not only will you be representing our school,so I expect you to be on your best behavior, you will also be learningimportant life-long skills. But, I also expect a few more things fromyou.”‘A few more things’? What did he mean, ‘a few more things’?Aw, man. Don’t tell me he’s going to do one of those ‘you shouldknow what I’m talking about’ speeches that my dad does, because Itruly have no idea what he’s talking about.SAMPLE

“I expect three things from you,” he said holding up threefingers. “Number one: take lots of pictures. Number two: make lots ofgreat memories. And number three—.”Number three? What’s number three? Why are you just standingthere in silence? Say something!“HAVE FUN!” he shouted, using both hands to create amegaphone.Rule number three caused all of us to jump up and down whilescreaming our heads off. We didn’t notice it, but all of our parents hadpulled out their phones and were recording everything PrincipalMartinez had said. Most of them had huge smiles on their faces, butsome were wiping tears from their eyes.As soon as the bus drivers opened the luggage compartments,Mr. Anderson asked dads to help load them. While they did that, Mrs.Whiston instructed parents to get one last photo and one last kissgoodbye before we had to get on our bus.I heard someone’s parent tell them that they could still changetheir mind about going as I ran to my mom and dad and gave themeach a huge hug and kiss. Mom and dad had kept Xochitl with themso that she could see me off, so I gave her a hug and kiss, too. It feelsweird to say it, but I think I’m going to miss her. A little.After all the luggage was loaded, Mrs. Whiston announced thatit was time for students to get onto the buses. Most of us gave ourparents and siblings one last hug before rushing to get on the bus.SAMPLE

Our bus driver had lowered all the windows on our bus so thatwe could do something that we weren’t normally allowed to do.“Go ahead and stick your heads out and wave goodbye!” he toldus. “You’ll probably never get another chance again. Because once Istart this bus, it’s all body parts and loose items inside the bus at alltimes!”He didn’t have to tell us twice! We stuck our heads out of thewindows and waved goodbye to our families as they waved back.Some of the parents rushed to the other side of bus so that they couldsee their own kid. Most of them were taking pictures or recording uswith their phones.Erick, Justin, Marcus, Paul, Sammy and I were all sitting inadjacent seats, so all of our parents were standing together as we tookour final waves goodbye.“We protect and serve all living things!” our parents shouted atus.“The T.J. League reigns supreme!”SAMPLE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR"Mr. Angel" Ramirez"Mr. Angel" has been writing stories since hiselementary school days, and after MUCHencouragement from students, friends, andfamily, has decided to publish some of them forothers to enjoy. When he isn't writing, he can befound leading the Blueprint Youth Ministry atCalvary Chapel Into The Light, spending timewith his niece and nephews, or enjoying hisfavorite food: cookies!SAMPLE

BOOKS BY THIS AUTHORT.J.'S Adventures - Operation Full ControlThe T.J. League 'protects and serves all living things' and does it nearlyevery recess. That is until he came to the school. Now things have changedand no one is having fun. Well, except for Erick. Something must be done.Can the T.J. League get things back to the way they were? Join us and findout! Parental Guidance: Visits Topic of Strained FrienshipsT.J.'S Adventures - The Vociferous VillainThe T.J. League is enjoying being Future Funmakers and have successfullyaccomplished every mission that T.J.'s mind has been able to come up with,but their newest mission is from a new source: Principal Martinez. At first,the mission seems like it will be the easiest the League has ever accepted,but 'what kind of mission would it be if it didn't have a certain level ofdifficulty?' Parental Guidance: Visits Topic of Physical AbuseT.J.'S Adventures - Objective: Protect & ServeIt's been raining for days now, making recess a bit different for the T.J.League, Funmaker John and the rest of the students at T.J.'s school. Andguess what? Today starts off just the same. But now the electricity is out,the Internet is down and the T.J. League is stuck in the MPR with all theSAMPLE

first graders. There's no way things can't get any worse. Parental Guidance: Visits Topic of a School LockdownT.J.'S Adventures - Operation Superhero SupportIt's almost Christmas, and the T.J. League, like everyone else, is preparingfor all the fun things that the season brings. Until Sammy noticessomething, that is. But it could be nothing. But then again, maybe it'ssomething. T.J. can't remember the last time Sammy was wrong. But thenagain, there's a first for everything. Right? Parental Guidance: Visits Topic of Women and Children's SheltersT.J.'S Adventures - Someone Superhero Strong The T.J. League is battling the evil Dr. Dreamo and his lackeys when anewcomer joins the battle. The T.J. League has never seen him before or themysterious green fog that emits from his feet. Before they can figure outwhat effect it has on its enemies, T.J. has abandoned his team, changedallegiances and captured his own team - for the bad guys! Will the T.J.League be able to escape their imprisonment without their fearless leader?Has T.J. switched sides for good? Justin doesn't understand what's going onand is reaching his limit for confusion! Parental Guidance: Visits Topic of HospitalsSAMPLE