The Boy Who Failed Dodgeball by Jordan Sonnenblick

The Boy Who Failed Dodgeball by Jordan Sonnenblick

Author:Jordan Sonnenblick [Sonnenblick, Jordan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Biographical, Boys, Bullying, Emotions & Feelings, Family, Friendship, Humor, Music, School, Young Adult
ISBN: 9781338749625
Google: FkAnEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B08ZHMCZ8Z
Goodreads: 61407051
Publisher: Scholastic Press
Published: 2022-06-28T04:00:00+00:00


Sure enough, the audition comes down to just the three of us. He makes us all try out on the tom-tom. Coty can basically play the part fast enough, but not hard enough. Andrew can play the part fast and hard—for about thirty seconds. Then he starts dragging behind the beat.

“Sonnenblick,” Mr. Impolito says, “the part is yours if you want it badly enough. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I play as hard as I can, and manage to keep the pace up for about thirty seconds.

“Metz! Seligman! Snare drums!” Mr. Impolito barks. “As for you, Sonnenblick, you’ve got the tom-tom. You’d better nail this part. I’m not keeping you around for your sparkling behavior. Or your good looks!”

That went well, I think as we leave the stage. Hopefully I will still be around for the concert.

Walking out of school at the end of the day, I can’t help noticing that Jimmy and Michael are keeping pace with me. Geoff and Joshua are there, too. Geoff is chattering away, saying things like, “I bet this kid isn’t that tough. You just have to use the uppercut! That’s all! He’s bigger than you, right? So you have to be like, UPPERCUT! UPPERCUT! UPPERCUT! Right in the schnoozer! He’ll go down like a tree! Who’s the champ? You’re the champ!”

I’m doomed, I think.

Garth is nowhere in sight as we get to the edge of the playground fence. On the plus side, neither is P.J. In fact, when we get to the far end of the playground, I still don’t see P.J. Maybe if I stay really cool and just keep walking, I can—

Then, all of a sudden, my feet are moving through the air. It takes me a moment to realize what has happened: P.J. has stepped out from behind the fence, grabbed two fistfuls of my jean jacket, and lifted me completely off the ground. Before I can react, he turns ninety degrees and slams my back into the fence of the house that is just past the end of the school’s property.

He’s pretty quick for a smoker.

“So, you think you’re tough picking on a little sixth grader, huh?” he snarls at me.

“Um,” I point out, “actually, Jimmy is about four inches taller than I am. Do you think you’re tough picking on an even littler sixth grader?”

Still holding me up on my tiptoes, P.J. laughs. “I like you,” he says. “You’re funny!”

“Oh, good,” I reply. “Then we can just shake hands and go home, right?”

P.J. turns to Jimmy. “See? Funny kid,” he says. Then he lets go of me with his right hand, which he then pulls back and curls into a fist.

I must say, being funny has not turned out to be a very useful skill at I.S. 61 so far.

Just when I think it’s all over, a shadow falls across P.J. And me. And basically the whole area. Garth is here! He taps P.J. on the right shoulder. “Hey, P.J.!” he says cheerfully.

“Uh, hey, Garth! What’s up?”

“Nothing much. I see you’ve met my friend Jordan!”

“Your … friend?” P.



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