The Winner's Game Read Online Free PDF Page B

when I turned. For Tuesday’s Pajama Day I swiped one of Bree’s pink nightgowns and wore it over a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. I barely got past the front office before the vice principal, an old fart with crooked teeth, pulled me aside and made me take it off. Worse, he made me call my mom (for like the tenth time this year), just in case she’d forgotten what a “special” son she’s raising.
    Wednesday and Thursday were Backward Day and Mismatched-Socks Day, but in protest over the whole nightgown thing I chose not to participate. This morning, though—the last day of school—the protest is over. How can I not participate in Talk-Like-a-Pirate Day?
    This is the best day ever! And I’m a natural! With a little effort, I manage to stay in character all the way until the end of school. When the final bell rings, I’m having so much fun that I decide to see how long I can keep it up at home.
    â€œAvast, woman,” I boldly tell my mom when I walk through the front door after getting off the bus. “I be home fer the summer. Have ye snacks to eat?”
    â€œAhoy, Cap’n Cadey,” she laughs. “Welcome home. How was your last day?”
    â€œIt be good…er, was good. But have ye no cookies or whatnot fer munchin’? I be a hungry pirate.”
    â€œSorry, kiddo. Not today. Your dad is on his way home right now, and he’s bringing a special surprise that I need to get ready for.” She turns to go, but stops halfway. “Which reminds me. I need you to find a sleeping bag and an extra pillow. You’ve been volunteered to give up your bed tonight.”
    â€œSomebody else be sleeping in me bed?”
    â€œYes sir, Captain sir. We’ve got a stowaway for the night.” She winks and then speeds off to her bedroom.
    What the heck is that supposed to mean? A stowaway? In my bed? “Arrgg,” I grumble as I go down to the bonus room in the basement.
    Bree’s bus hasn’t arrived yet from the middle school, but like most days, Ann is sitting on the couch in front of the TV. “Hey Cade,” she says as I walk by. “You have a good day?”
    I stop in place, eyeing her suspiciously, as any good buccaneer would do. “Aye.”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œ Aye , said I. It be Talk-Like-a-Pirate Day.”
    â€œOh. Wasn’t that just for school?”
    Channeling Blackbeard, I growl, “It be fer as long as I want it to be fer!”
    â€œWhatever.” She turns back to her daytime drama. When I come out of the storage closet a minute later and toss my favorite sleeping bag on the couch next to her, she looks away from the TV long enough to tell me I shouldn’t make a mess because Mom is cleaning the house in preparation for our trip.
    It’s not too often that I know something that Ann doesn’t, so I jump at the chance to share the news. “She’s cleaning for a guest, not for our trip.”
    Now I have her full attention. “Seriously?”
    Oops…that didn’t sound like a pirate. “What I meants to say, is, yer old lady dun found a stowaway, and she be sleeping like Goldilocks in me bed ’til morn.”
    Ann’s eyes bulge a bit. “Wow, you’re actually really good at that. Annoying, but good. But tell me you’re not serious. Someone is staying here? Tonight?”
    â€œAye. A surprise, said she. And I be booted to the couch like a filthy bilge rat.”
    â€œA what rat? Wait. You know what, never mind.” She dismisses me and returns to her show.
    With nothing better to do, I stay there and watch it too.
    When Bree arrives a little later, she lies down on the floor in front of us. “Did you guys hear someone’s coming over?”
    â€œWho told you?” Ann asks.
    â€œMom. Didn’t she tell you?”
    â€œNo.” Once again, Ann looks mad at being left out of the loop.
    â€œWell, did you get off the couch