How to Win a Slime War by Mae Respicio

Author:Mae Respicio [Respicio, Mae]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2021-09-14T00:00:00+00:00

Sliming with everyone today was so much fun. After Carl, Pepper, and Logan leave, the doorbell rings. When I peep through the hole I see Sammy’s spiky hair, then his big, blinking eyeball. He steps back and sticks out his tongue.

I let him in.

“Perfect. Just the two guys I need,” Auntie says, bounding down the stairs.

“Got your text, Mom. What is it?” Sammy asks.

“You boys mind going to the store with me to bring back more filing boxes from the office?”

Sammy begins: “Can I…”

“Drive?” Auntie dangles a ring of keys and drops them into his palm. “How about you and Alex open up the store, and I’ll be right behind you.”

“Score!” Sammy sings. He got his license over the summer and will take any chance to practice.

We drive the few minutes to our market. The parking lot’s almost empty, except for one car. Sleek and smooth in a deep, regal blue.

“Whoa. Sweeeet!” Sammy says. “A Lamborghini!” He pulls into the spot next to it. We get out and slam our doors.

My cousin walks around it and leans in to try to see through the tinted windows.

“Hey, kid, not so close!” a blond guy shouts. He’s standing near the empty storefront by our market, with two other guys who look the same. They’re youngish, like maybe in college or something, all wearing gray hoodies with a logo stitched on the back.

“Just admiring,” Sammy says.

“Then admire from afar,” the man says.

Sammy rolls his eyes and walks over to the store. He puts a key in the door, but it doesn’t unlock. He tries another, but that one doesn’t work, either.

I sit at the curb and wait. Those people keep looking into the empty storefront’s window.

“I don’t know, man, this strip is dead,” says a guy wearing thick black-framed glasses. “I mean, look at it.” He points to Manalo Market and says to the others, “What does this place even sell?”

“We need a more established area with more trending businesses,” says the blond guy.

Established? Trending?

“Dude, the whole point of this is to find a quiet location for us to disrupt,” the man with the glasses says. “This neighborhood is just so…I don’t even know. It needs more. I mean, who doesn’t want robotic juicers?”

Sammy’s still trying to unlock the door. I wish my aunt would get here already.

The man with blond hair looks at me, and then at Sammy. “Hey, kid, what are you doing? The place is closed.”

Sammy ignores him.

“Do you even speak English?” the man asks. When Sammy doesn’t respond, he says, in a rude tone, “¿Habla inglés?”

“Excuse me?” Sammy shakes his head. “I don’t speak Spanish. I’m Filipino.”

“Whatever. Just leave that place alone, kid,” the guy says. “I’ll call the cops if I have to.”

“This is my family’s store,” Sammy says.

I jump up. “Mine too.”

The guys look at us in surprise, but one of them, wearing a baseball cap, shoves his friend’s shoulder and says, “C’mon, man, that was so rude.” He turns to Sammy and me and gives a kind smile.

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