1
Simon Ellis sat sprawled on the floor next to Jackson Myers, trying to make his best friend in the whole world plunge to his doom.
It was Sunday afternoon, and they were at Jackson’s house, video game controllers in hand, playing Jackson’s newest game, Galaxy Warriors. Simon was warrior Xalik, and Jackson was warrior Satu. If either player was knocked off his platform in interstellar space, it would mean instant death.
Xalik fired his laser beam at Satu.
Satu ducked.
Satu shot a string of fireballs at Xalik.
Xalik sprang over the top of them and countered with another quick laser.
Zing!
Satu flew backward and fell, then leaped up again to fire another torrent of fireballs at Xalik.
“Wait!” Jackson paused the game to dart after his ferret, Ferrari, who was scrambling out the door of his bedroom and heading toward the stairs. Simon waited to save Xalik from defeat, disgrace, and death as Jackson headed after his pet.
Simon and Jackson had been best friends since preschool. They usually played at Jackson’s house, because Jackson was the only one who had a game system, plus a big TV in his room to play it on. What Simon’s room had instead of a TV was two tall bookcases crammed full of books, most of which Simon had read. Simon wondered what it would be like to have two tall bookcases and a big TV. There was no rule saying that if you had one, you couldn’t have the other.
Jackson returned with Ferrari, careful to shut his bedroom door this time. The little ferret scrabbled down Jackson’s arm and up Simon’s. Simon used to be nervous around Ferrari, but he had worked hard to get comfortable with having a small furry creature climbing all over him. Now Ferrari was his second-best friend after Jackson.
Simon thought he had a good chance of beating Jackson at Galaxy Warriors today. Jackson played video games more often than Simon did, but Galaxy Warriors was a brand-new game, so the two boys were evenly matched.
Besides, Simon was coordinated with his hands from playing the violin for four years, starting at age five. Plus, he was just good at strategy. Once he started playing a game, even if Jackson had a head start, he caught on quickly. Just the way he caught on quickly to fractions and decimals in math, or could memorize all fifty states and their state capitals, or get a perfect score on practically every spelling test.
“Ready?” Jackson asked, picking up his controller again.
“Ready!” Simon replied.
Xalik fell back, landing inches away from the edge of the platform.
No!
Then Xalik recovered from his fall and ducked more of Satu’s fireballs.
He unleashed one last powerful laser beam at Satu.
Satu flew far off the end of the platform and plunged into space.
Victory for Xalik!
Simon felt himself beaming. He scooped up Ferrari and wiggled him in the air like a victory trophy.
“Do you want to be Xalik next time, and I’ll be Satu?” he asked.
Jackson didn’t answer.
When Simon turned to look at him, Jackson was scowling.
“What?” Simon asked. Was he holding Ferrari the wrong way? Gently, he set Ferrari down on the carpet beside Jackson.
But Jackson’s scowl only deepened. “If you’re Xalik, Xalik wins. If you’re Satu, Satu wins. Doesn’t it ever get boring, winning all the time?”
Simon didn’t know what to say.
“Because it sure gets boring losing all the time,” Jackson muttered.
Simon found his voice as the little ferret climbed up Jackson’s leg. “I don’t win all the time. Nobody wins all the time.”
“Name one time you’ve ever lost at anything.”
Simon couldn’t believe Jackson had to ask this. “I lost at Amphibian Apocalypse last week. Remember? You beat me three times in a row.”
“Because you had never played the game ever, and I’d played it like ten thousand times, and then after I beat you three times, you beat me four times in a row.”
“But you still beat me three times first,” Simon reminded him.
Jackson picked up Ferrari and dropped him back in the wire cage that stood on a low table next to the bed. He shut the cage door with an angry click, as if it were poor Ferrari’s fault that Simon/Xalik had fired his laser so well. Jackson was being unfair not only to Simon but to Ferrari, too.
“You said to name one time I didn’t win, and I just named three,” Simon said, hoping that Jackson would stop being mad. But even though this was completely true, Jackson’s expression didn’t change.
“You don’t even have a game system in your house,” Jackson said, his tone accusing.
That was true, too, but it meant that Simon was the one who had something to complain about. Jackson was the luckier kid, with a TV, a game system, and a ferret of his own.
“And you still beat me at video games!” Jackson said. “You’re better than I am at math. And reading. And spelling. Oh, and running.”
Simon couldn’t deny it. But he just happened to love math, reading, spelling, and running. It made sense that if you loved something, you’d keep on doing it, and then you’d get good at it. He tried to think of something Jackson was better at.
“You’re better than I am at soccer,” he offered. Jackson’s soccer team had made the playoffs this spring.
“You don’t play soccer!” Jackson retorted.
“So I’m not better at it!”
“But if you did play soccer, you would be,” Jackson said wearily.
Jackson turned off the TV and made a big show of setting the game controllers side by side on the bureau, even though he usually left them on the floor for his little brother to trip over.
What was Simon supposed to say?
Okay, maybe he didn’t lose at very many things. But he did lose sometimes.
And right now he was afraid he might be starting to lose his best friend.
* * *
On Monday morning, Simon was glad to see Jackson waiting for him as usual on the blacktop outside Franklin School before the first bell, even though Jackson had still been cross when Mrs. Ellis had come to pick Simon up right after their quarrel.
“Hey,” Jackson said, giving Simon a sheepish smile.
“Hey,” Simon said, with a sheepish smile of his own.
Maybe things were going to be okay with Jackson, after all.
After the flag salute and morning announcements, their third-grade teacher, Mrs. Molina, told the class to listen closely to the news she was about to share. Mrs. Molina was strict. She even looked strict, with wire-framed glasses and hair pulled back sternly from her face. But Simon liked her.
“Class, a week from this Friday is our Franklin School spelling bee. You’ll be competing against the other third-grade classes.”
Simon felt a jolt of excitement. He had never been in a spelling bee before. The Franklin School bee was just for third, fourth, and fifth graders.
“What do we get if we win?” one kid asked.
“The main thing you’ll get will be the satisfaction of being such good spellers.”
Simon’s classmates looked disappointed.
“But Mr. Boone has also come up with a special prize that he’ll tell you about later.”
Now the class cheered. They all loved their chubby, funny, always-enthusiastic principal.
“Is everyone going to spell in the bee?” Kelsey Green asked. “Or do our best spellers compete against the best spellers in the other classes?”
Simon knew that Kelsey loved reading and spelling as much as he did.
“Each class will be divided into teams, and everyone competes, working together as team members.”
Simon didn’t like the sound of that. He never signed up for team sports like soccer or basketball. He preferred individual sports like running, where how you did was totally up to you alone.
“But our strongest spellers will certainly have an important role to play,” Mrs. Molina added.
“Si-mon! Si-mon!” someone started to chant.
Kelsey tossed her short brown hair. Simon knew she wanted the chant to be “Kel-sey! Kel-sey!” But he couldn’t help flushing with pride at hearing his classmates treat him as their star speller.
Then he heard Cody Harmon mutter, “Super Simon. Super-Duper-Pooper Simon.” Cody was the worst in the class at most of the things Simon was best at.
Simon thought he heard Jackson laugh. But maybe it was somebody else.
Simon pretended he hadn’t heard, but Cody’s comment stung, and Jackson’s laugh, if it had been Jackson who laughed, stung even more.
Text copyright © 2015 by Claudia Mills
Pictures copyright © 2015 by Rob Shepperson
