flounced away to the “cool kids” table.
“Check it out,” said Akimi, gesturing toward thecafeteria’s food line, where Charles Chiltington was balancing two trays: his own and one for Mrs. Cameron.
“I’m so glad you have lunchroom duty today, Mrs. Cameron,” Kyle heard Chiltington say. “If you don’t mind, I have a few questions about how conventions within genres—such as poetry, drama, or essays—can affect meaning.”
“Well, Charles, I’d be happy to discuss that with you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Cameron. And, may I say, that sweater certainly complements your eye color.”
“What a suck-up,” mumbled Akimi. “Chiltington’s trying to use his weaselly charm to make sure Mrs. C sends his essay up the line to Mr. Lemoncello.”
“Don’t worry,” said Kyle. “Mrs. Cameron isn’t the final judge. Mr. Lemoncello is. And since he’s a genius, he will definitely pick the essays you guys all wrote.”
“Undoubtedly,” said Peckleman.
“Thanks, Kyle,” said Miguel.
“I just wish you could win with us,” said Akimi.
“Well, maybe I can. Like you said, this is just a Move Back Three Spaces card. A Take a Walk on the Boardwalk when someone else owns it. It’s a chute in Chutes and Ladders. A detour to the Molasses Swamp in Candy Land!”
“Yo, Kyle,” said Miguel. “Exactly how many board games have you played?”
“Enough to know that you don’t ever quit untilsomebody else actually wins.” He picked up his lunch and headed for the dirty-tray window.
Akimi called after him. “Where are you going?”
“I have the rest of lunch and all of study hall to work on a new essay.”
“But Mrs. Cameron won’t take it.”
“Maybe. But I’ve got to roll the dice one more time. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”
“I hope so,” said Akimi.
“Me too! See you guys on the bus!”
Working on his library essay like he’d never worked on any essay in his whole essay-writing life, Kyle crafted a killer thesis sentence that compared libraries to his favorite games.
“Using a library can make learning about anything (and everything) fun,” he wrote. “When you’re in a library, researching a topic, you’re on a scavenger hunt, looking for clues and prizes in books instead of your attic or backyard.”
He put in points and sub-points.
He wrapped everything up with a tidy conclusion.
He even checked his spelling (twice).
But Akimi had been right.
“I’m sorry, Kyle,” Mrs. Cameron said when he handed her his new paper at the end of the day. “This is very good and I am impressed by your extra effort. However, thedeadline was this morning. Rules are rules. The same as they are in all the board games you mentioned in your essay.”
She’d basically handed Kyle a Go Back Five Hundred Spaces card.
But Kyle refused to give up.
He remembered how his mother had written to Mr. Lemoncello’s Imagination Factory when he and his brothers needed a fresh set of clue cards for the Indoor-Outdoor Scavenger Hunt.
Maybe he could send his essay directly to Mr. Lemoncello via email.
Maybe, if the game maker wasn’t judging the essays until later that night, Kyle still had a shot. A long shot, but, hey, sometimes the long ones were the only shots you got.
The second he hit home he sat down at his mother’s kitchen computer. He attached his essay file to a “high priority” email addressed to Mr. Lemoncello at the Imagination Factory.
“What are you doing, Kyle?” his mom asked when she came into the room and found him typing on her computer.
“Some extra-credit homework.”
“Extra credit? School’s out at the end of the week.”
“So?”
“You’re not playing my Diner Dash game, are you?”
“No, Mom. It’s an essay. About Mr. Lemoncello’s amazing new library downtown.”
“Oh. Sounds interesting. I heard on the radio that there’s going to be a gala grand opening reception this Friday night at the Parker House Hotel, right across the street from the old bank building.