Maxed Out Read Online Free Page B

don’t want to tell Mr. Cooper what happened. He might tell Mom.
    â€œSounds like you ran into a patch of bad luck.” Mr. Cooper rummages around in a kitchen drawer. “Here we go. I knew I had one.” He dangles a spare set of keys.
    â€œThanks,” I say. I take them and turn toward the back door.
    â€œMy arm hurts,” Duncan complains.
    â€œWhy don’t I have a look at it?” Mr. Cooper says as he pulls out a chair. “Come have a seat, Duncan, or are you Spider-Man today?”
    â€œI’m Spider-Man,” he answers quietly.
    Mr. Cooper tries to touch his arm.
    â€œOweeee!” Duncan yells.
    â€œOkay there. Let’s not get our knickers in a knot, Spider-Man.” Mr. Cooper gets up and pulls a first-aid kit out of a cupboard. “I reckon I have a Spider-Man sling for you.”
    â€œYou do?” Duncan’s eyes light up.
    â€œI sure do.” He unwraps a beige triangle bandage. “I’m going to have to touch your arm, but I promise I’ll be as gentle as possible.”
    Duncan sits still while Mr. Cooper slips the sling on his arm. “I like you,” Duncan whispers.
    â€œWell, I like you too. That should do the trick until your mom gets home.”
    â€œI’m hungry,” Duncan says.
    â€œWell, there’s nothing like telling a feller how it really is.” Mr. Cooper chuckles. “What would you like to eat?”
    â€œThat’s okay, Mr. Cooper. I’ll make him something when we get home. Come on, let’s go, Duncan. Thanks for the key.”
    â€œNo worries, Max. I’m always here.”
    At home, I check my eye out in the bathroom mirror. It’s turning different shades of red and blue.
    My first black eye.

Chapter Seven
    â€œI’m hungry,” Duncan says from the kitchen.
    â€œJust give me a minute,” I holler. When I come back into the kitchen, Duncan rests his head on the table and cradles his arm. I can tell he’s in a lot of pain. I grab a pot and start making macaroni and cheese. “Hopefully Mom will be back any minute so we can get your arm checked out,” I say. Duncan doesn’t answer me.
    The doorbell rings just as Duncan is eating his last bite. Ian stands on the step with his hockey gear.
    â€œThat was quick,” I say. “I thought you were going to stay and play?”
    â€œCody slapped every puck we had into the woods. We couldn’t find them. He was being such a jerk no one wanted to stick around. Are you going to let me in or what?”
    â€œYeah…yeah, come on in.”
    Ian flings his boots off and leaves them in a heap by the back door. When he sees Duncan, he says, “We sure could have used you at the pond.”
    â€œI hurt my arm,” Duncan mumbles.
    â€œWant something to eat, Ian?” I ask.
    â€œYeah, I’m starving,” says Ian.
    â€œSandwich okay?”
    â€œYeah, sounds good.”
    I pull out ingredients from the meat tray and dump them on the counter. Ian grabs the bread, and we make monster-sized layered sandwiches.
    â€œHey, look at this.” Ian picks up the cheese-slice package and reads the back. “ Kids Help Phone. 1-800 blah blah blah. That’s a weird place to put that.”
    â€œLet me see.” I grab the package. “You’re right. That is weird.”
    â€œYeah,” Ian says with a mouthful. “Can you imagine calling them and saying, I’m having trouble making my cheese sandwich. Can you help me?”
    We laugh so hard that I don’t hear Mom come into the kitchen. Her hair is a mess of tangles, and her makeup is smeared underneath her eyes.
    â€œOh no! What happened to Duncan?”
    â€œI was fighting,” Duncan says in a low voice.
    â€œYou were what?” She then looks at me. “Oh my goodness! What happened to your eye?”
    â€œHe wasn’t fighting,” I snap. “He slipped on the ice! And my eye,