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CHAPTER 1
MISERABLE
Even though I have a mom who worries too much, a twelve-year-old sister who never stops texting, and a dog named Monkeylad who runs away to steal meat off the neighborsâ tables, I really thought things were going to get better for me in fifth grade. But itâs the second week, and my life is still pretty miserable.
Things started out okay. This cool kid, Leif Zuniga, who also likes sports and movies and collecting baseball cards, had been having lunch with me every day.
My mom packed me the usual almond-butter-and-organic-fruit-juice-sweetened-jam-on-whole-wheat-bread sandwich, fresh fruit, carrots, and dried seaweed. Leif took one look at it, said, âAw, man,â and shared his chips and cookies with me, which was awesome. Then we played handball at recess, and we even planned some times to hang out on weekends.
I have a teacher named Ms. Washington, who is supposed to be the nicest teacher in the school, and she sure seems that way so far.
I got Aâs on my spelling and math tests.
Serena Perl, from kindergarten and first, second, third, and fourth grades, is in my class again. Sometimes I stare at the back of her head because she has this perfectly straight part, and I wonder how she or her mother gets it that way every single day. Her hair, which is the same gold color as her skin, must be pretty long when she takes out the braids. Serena Perl even smiled at me a few times. She has dimples.
At home, my sister, Angelina, was still texting. Monkeylad was still trying to escape. Mom was still being excessively safe. But things were good at school with Ms. Washington, Leif Zuniga, and Serena Perl.
Then, at the end of the second week, everything changed. A new kid came into the classroom. He was a pipsqueak with hair like that singer my sister loves, Dustin Peeper. I recognized him from summer camp.
Rocko Hoggen.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
The camp was called 4 Kids Only, so when I first went there, when I was around six, I expected to play with just a few kids. The camp logo even had a picture of just FOUR children. But when Mom dropped me off, there were hundreds of screaming kids.
I told my mom I didnât want to stay because of the false advertising. She asked what I meant, and I told her there were way more than four kids, and she laughed, which made me even madder.
âDonât laugh at me,â I said.
âIâm sorry, Ben, but I was laughing with you, not at you.â
But I wasnât laughing.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Last summer I had to go back again. On the morning of the first day, my mom packed me a lunch with an almond butter sandwich, fruit, and seaweed. Then she chased me down, waving her bottle of smelly sunscreen that makes my skin look white and streaky. Monkeylad was leaping along behind her. He loves to lick sunscreen off me about as much as my mom loves to put it on. All I wanted to do was stay home and eat sugar and watch TV, but my sister and I arenât allowed to eat sugar on weekdays, and we donât even have TV, only a DVD player, because my mom is a librarian and doesnât believe in television. She makes us read every night, but Iâm usually not that interested in the books she brings home for me.
I think sheâs kind of hypocritical because she sneaks off to the gym almost every day to run on the treadmill and watch bad reality shows. I know this because one of Angelinaâs friendsâ dads owns the gym and told Angelina that my mom watches How to Be a Hottie and Americaâs Next OMG. Without a TV, our house is boring. Which is why, even if I had any friends, they wouldnât come over.
At least I saw someone I knew at campâMarvin Davis, who was in T-ball with me in kindergarten. He and I hung out at 4 Kids Only and played volleyball, and it was pretty cool.
But the next day, this kid named Rocko Hoggen came to camp. I bet when you hear a name like that, you think big, burly
CHAPTER 1
MISERABLE
Even though I have a mom who worries too much, a twelve-year-old sister who never stops texting, and a dog named Monkeylad who runs away to steal meat off the neighborsâ tables, I really thought things were going to get better for me in fifth grade. But itâs the second week, and my life is still pretty miserable.
Things started out okay. This cool kid, Leif Zuniga, who also likes sports and movies and collecting baseball cards, had been having lunch with me every day.
My mom packed me the usual almond-butter-and-organic-fruit-juice-sweetened-jam-on-whole-wheat-bread sandwich, fresh fruit, carrots, and dried seaweed. Leif took one look at it, said, âAw, man,â and shared his chips and cookies with me, which was awesome. Then we played handball at recess, and we even planned some times to hang out on weekends.
I have a teacher named Ms. Washington, who is supposed to be the nicest teacher in the school, and she sure seems that way so far.
I got Aâs on my spelling and math tests.
Serena Perl, from kindergarten and first, second, third, and fourth grades, is in my class again. Sometimes I stare at the back of her head because she has this perfectly straight part, and I wonder how she or her mother gets it that way every single day. Her hair, which is the same gold color as her skin, must be pretty long when she takes out the braids. Serena Perl even smiled at me a few times. She has dimples.
At home, my sister, Angelina, was still texting. Monkeylad was still trying to escape. Mom was still being excessively safe. But things were good at school with Ms. Washington, Leif Zuniga, and Serena Perl.
Then, at the end of the second week, everything changed. A new kid came into the classroom. He was a pipsqueak with hair like that singer my sister loves, Dustin Peeper. I recognized him from summer camp.
Rocko Hoggen.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
The camp was called 4 Kids Only, so when I first went there, when I was around six, I expected to play with just a few kids. The camp logo even had a picture of just FOUR children. But when Mom dropped me off, there were hundreds of screaming kids.
I told my mom I didnât want to stay because of the false advertising. She asked what I meant, and I told her there were way more than four kids, and she laughed, which made me even madder.
âDonât laugh at me,â I said.
âIâm sorry, Ben, but I was laughing with you, not at you.â
But I wasnât laughing.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Last summer I had to go back again. On the morning of the first day, my mom packed me a lunch with an almond butter sandwich, fruit, and seaweed. Then she chased me down, waving her bottle of smelly sunscreen that makes my skin look white and streaky. Monkeylad was leaping along behind her. He loves to lick sunscreen off me about as much as my mom loves to put it on. All I wanted to do was stay home and eat sugar and watch TV, but my sister and I arenât allowed to eat sugar on weekdays, and we donât even have TV, only a DVD player, because my mom is a librarian and doesnât believe in television. She makes us read every night, but Iâm usually not that interested in the books she brings home for me.
I think sheâs kind of hypocritical because she sneaks off to the gym almost every day to run on the treadmill and watch bad reality shows. I know this because one of Angelinaâs friendsâ dads owns the gym and told Angelina that my mom watches How to Be a Hottie and Americaâs Next OMG. Without a TV, our house is boring. Which is why, even if I had any friends, they wouldnât come over.
At least I saw someone I knew at campâMarvin Davis, who was in T-ball with me in kindergarten. He and I hung out at 4 Kids Only and played volleyball, and it was pretty cool.
But the next day, this kid named Rocko Hoggen came to camp. I bet when you hear a name like that, you think big, burly
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