Never Throw Boloney by EJ Patterson (inspiring books for teens .TXT) 📖

forget about the whole Johnny thing. It doesn’t sound like fun, but it feels good to help people who need it.” “Sure,” I said.
Because what else was I gonna say?
****

After I called Johnny and told him the dreadful, horrible news, I sat on my bed and thought. I thought about a lot of things. I thought so much, it seems, that it was seven o’clock by the time I went downstairs to give my head a break.
Well, obviously, I thought about Johnny first. About how unfair it was that I couldn’t go on a study date at a pizza shop that was just right around the corner. Emphasis on “study” and “right around the corner.”
If Todd could date when he was twelve, why couldn’t I date when I was thirteen? Anger rose up in me again, hot and bubbling, so I tried to force it down by thinking about something else.
Charlotte was just a mystery these days. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be her friend or not. Every time I thought about her, I’d get all guilty for yelling at her at the sleepover, and then I would resolve to try and talk to her the next day, which would obviously never happen because I’m such a wimpy wimp.
But I had to have some courage, because I did stand up to Charlotte after all. But did that make me feel any better?
No. In fact, it made me feel worse, because if I had all that bravery in me, then tomorrow I could very well scream at a passing bystander for not saying “bless you” or something.
So you can see why I’m sort of stressed.
I thought about the soup kitchen thingy too. I remembered how I was going to do something about world hunger or poverty around Christmas time, but I was too immersed in my own stupid world that totally forgot about the world that really matters.
So, was I upset that I had to go to the soup kitchen with Dawn on Saturday, like she thought I might be?
No again. In fact, I was looking forward to it. It was a chance to get away from school and home and my life and experience what it was like to help out the world, and not just sit around and say “lets not but say we did,” for Pete’s sake.

****
Dawn’s car pulled into the driveway at 12:00 Saturday afternoon. Well, not Dawn’s car, but Dawn in the car that her mother was driving. If Dawn was driving, well, let’s just say that our trash cans wouldn’t be in front of our house anymore.
So Mrs.Kalahassi pulled into our driveway and I hopped into their Volvo with nervous anticipation.
“Hey!” Dawn greeted me as I tried to figure out how to work the seatbelt. “Hi,” I grunted as I pulled the strap around my head and across my arm.
She rolled her eyes and said “stop, you’re going to break something” as we sped down the street toward the Town’s soup kitchen. She finally clicked the seat belt around me just as we stopped in the parking lot nearest the soup kitchen.
“Great…” I muttered.
Just Wednesday I told myself that what I was doing was nice and helpful toward society, or something. Then Saturday came fast and I found myself walking through the grimy door into the actual kitchen, and was appalled with what I saw.
Dawn, her mother and I had just walked into a small sitting room with small, torn red chairs and another torn red couch. Sitting on the couch was a woman, around 30, with a blue dress with buttons going down the back. One of the buttons was missing. She was also wearing a dirty black coat with all but three of the buttons missing. Her brown hair was pulled into a sloppy bun.
Her hand lay on an old baby carriage…with an actual baby inside. It wasn’t crying, but it wasn’t asleep. It just looked out into the world, wondering where it was, and if it would ever leave. I stopped walking. The tears came to my eyes out of no where and I quickly blinked them away. Tears wouldn’t help this poor family. “Maddie? Why did you-oh….” Dawn stopped walking too and just stared at the baby. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the woman.
“Hello” she stammered. The woman looked up, surprised. I suddenly felt bad in my Abercrombie sweatshirt. I crossed my arms over the logo.
“Hello.” She said back. Her voice was raspy. “It is a boy or a girl?” I asked.
“Girl,” She answered. “Her name is Isabelle.” We stood in silence for a while. It wasn’t an awkward silence. It was a beautiful silence, the lion looking upon the mouse as equals, (which I realized a little too late was a terrible thing to think.) “She’s beautiful.” I whispered. The Woman positively beamed. “Come on, girls. They’re waiting.” Dawn’s mother called to us from across the hall. “Bye. Nice meeting you,” the woman said. “You too,” Dawn and I said in unison as we strolled toward the door that said “kitchen” on a smudged bronze plaque. We heard a soft, strained cry from behind us.

****
Overall, the trip to the kitchen was…empowering. Enlightening. Overwhelming….a real experience. Dawn and I didn’t say much on the ride home. We were both thinking of what we just saw.
They kitchen only served two different kinds of soup- onion and vegetable. The soup was a little watery, but good all the same. If you were allergic to anything in the soups, it was just too bad, which I though was very unjust and uncalled for.
I saw an old man with a frizzy mass of white hair. He gave me a forced kind smile, but quickly spooned his soup into his metallic bowl and was off. I also saw an African American family-A mother, father, and two boys. They looked friendly enough, but the two boys, one looked ten the other around 8, were very wild and their parents looked very harassed and sad as they got their soups and hurried to the long oak tables at the end of the hall.
I saw the woman and baby again. The woman smiled from ear to ear and, although I was sure I wasn’t supposed to see, Mrs. Kalahassi slipped her and extra two scoops of onion soup.
The last people were an old couple. They both had white-gray hair and didn’t stop holding hands the whole time. When I gave the woman her soup, she said “Thanks much, love” and I knew she was English.
That particular couple touched me because it looked like they were together long and even though they were poor they still stuck together and loved each other.
I hope I have a relationship like that someday.
Arg! I sucked my stupid world into the real world again! When will I stop?

****

“Only hit with the side of your foot, you’ll get better accuracy and power that way,” Miss Rielly said.
Oh, Soccer. How I hate thee. How I despise the way thee get’s under my feet and trips me in front of everybody in, like, the whole universe.
Whoa. I just swerved off the Shakespeare path for a moment. But how I hate Dawn and her pro-soccer self, but I wanna curse Penelope more because she’s as good as Dawn is.
So now were playing soccer, and I, being my gracious self, happily volunteered to be defense.
Dawn, Holly Pittolini, Lily Thompson, and Gina Hawthorn were offense.
Olivia Tanker, Ariana Wendell and I were defense. Cara Smith was Goalie. Overall, we were an OK team. All the offense players were amazing, obviously, but the entire defense…not so much. Cara was a good goalie, but she sometimes cared more about staring at the boys being all tough playing baseball at the other end of the field then where the ball actually was.
Olivia was nice, but she, like me, has zero self esteem when it comes to sports.
Ariana wasn’t good at soccer…she was good at staring at Penelope the whole time. She was nick-named “Peneliana” the beginning of the year. She could be nice, (and she is,) but when ‘Penny’ is around, she switched to ultra-awesome mode. It’s kind of annoying, and it reminded me of Charlotte, who was also on Penelope’s team.
Dawn….is like me, except without the sucky-at-soccer part. She has ZERO self esteem when it comes to sports, like me, except she’s actually great at Soccer. Fantastic, really. So, yeah, when Miss. Rielly made our team, (the Kickin Peeps,) plays against the Soccer Princesses, (Penelope’s team,) we were determined to win.
Well…Dawn and I were anyway.
The game started fine, a little boring, but how else could you start? Holly started the game with a kick toward Penelope’s goal, which Dawn happily took over and kicked closer to the opposite goal. It was a great mass of Purple and gold, (our school colors ;) a sea of sharks fighting over the last krill in the ocean.
A girl on Penelope’s team, Candy, sneakily kicked the ball from under Holly’s foot, causing Holly to fall on to her back. We heard a shrill whistle and Miss Rielly came running over. It took all my might to not run over to Candy and Penelope, who were laughing, and punch them in the mouth. Dawn ran over to Holly, bent down, and said, “Omigod! Are you all right?” Holly slowly sat up, then, Dawn supporting her, said, “Yes.” “Are you well enough to play?” Miss Rielly asked. “I think so,” Holly said.
And the game resumed.
Dawn-Lily-Penelope-back to Lily-Candy-Penelope-they were getting closer and closer-
“Come on, Maddie! Kick it! Just kick it!” Dawn was screaming. I saw the black and white blur right in front of me, and Penelope’s smirking face-
And anger surged through me like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It was her fault Charlotte and I weren’t friends. Her fault. It was her fault the world was falling apart, and babies died and people didn’t eat for weeks at a time because they couldn’t afford it, her fault other girls hated themselves, her fault I felt a jabbing pain in my nose, and a huddled mass of purple and gold around me, a panicked voice yelling “Maddie! Maddie!” But who was Maddie; I was just a lonely 13 year old girl with no friends….

CHAPTER 8
“I told you, I can’t do gym for three weeks!”
“Come on, Maddie!”
“No!” I whined.
Dawn and I were sitting at my kitchen table eating cheerios with cinnamon sprinkled on it.
Apparently, Penelope kicked the soccer