The Midnight War of Mateo Martinez by Robin Yardi

Author:Robin Yardi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lerner Publishing Group

14.

The Plan

So, the rest of recess didn’t exactly go like I planned. Danny and Martin did that thing again. Launching missiles. After one close call, me and Ashwin hopped off the monkey bars before those guys could come over and do any more trash-talking.

We found Ms. Printz to see if she would do anything about it. But we chickened out of blaming Danny and Martin when she asked, “Who kicked the ball at you?” and “Did you tell them how you felt about that?” and “Do you want me to help you talk it out with them?” all in one breath. What I really wanted was for Ms. Printz to send those guys to the office, but she never does, so what’s the point in telling?

Nobody else even tried to hang around the monkey bars. It’s not like Johnny and those guys even use them. I guess they just don’t want anybody to have fun on the bars when they’re around.

After that, me and Ashwin didn’t really have time to map out The Plan. By the end of lunch recess, that’s as far as we’d gotten—calling it The Plan.

During afterschool care, me and Ashwin told Mr. Rocklin we were going to hang out in the dungeon. No way was I going to spend another afternoon chained to the craft table, staring at my homework. We had stuff to figure out.

“Sure,” Mr. Rocklin said, “but if I hear you guys jumping off the stage again, the multi-purpose room will be off-limits.”

We snatched up our backpacks and ran.

The craft table is right outside the multi-purpose room, and Mr. Rocklin makes us keep the doors open, but he only ducks his head in to check on us every half hour or so. So it was the perfect place to work on The Plan.

Inside, I blinked. The dungeon doesn’t have any windows, and after school, the hanging lamps are switched off. A couple of them are busted anyway. Up front, off to the right of the stage, an old rug, some bookshelves filled with puzzles and dusty board games (which all have broken boxes and missing pieces), and two beanbag chairs lurked in the gloom. Me and Ashwin both sprinted for the red chair, our steps echoing in the big room. I leaped with my arms in front of me and, spooosh, landed first.

Victory.

Ashwin landed right on top of me a second later.

“The chair is mine,” I wheezed.

Ashwin rolled off and spooshed into the blue beanbag. (That one leaks these tiny foam balls all over your clothes.) We scooted the beanbags together and stared at the ceiling. A couple first-grade girls came in and started a game of bird bingo right next to us, so we had to whisper. But after I’d answered all of Ashwin’s questions like a hundred times, I still wasn’t sure how we were going to get the trike back.

“We need to go to the library,” I said.

“Ahhh, come on, Mateo. You dragged me there once this week already. Besides, we need to work on The Plan, and how are we gonna learn anything in that place? Mrs.

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