Philip and the Girl Who Couldn't Lose (9781619501072) by John Paulits

Chapter One
     
    “ Why didn’t you catch it?” Emery asked
for the tenth time. “He threw it right to you. Your team could’ve
won.”
    “ Yeah, ninety-nine miles an hour he
threw it to me. How could anybody catch a ninety-nine-miles-an-hour
football?”
    “ The other kids did.”
    Philip threw his arms over his head in
frustration. “The other kids are way older. I didn’t see you catch
anything.”
    “ They didn’t throw me anything. If they
did, I’d probably’ve caught it.”
    “ You didn’t catch it last
game.”
    “ It hit me in the nose! How could
anybody catch a ball that hits you in the nose?”
    The two boys walked a short distance in
silence.
    Then Emery said softly, “I guess we’re lucky
they let us in the game at all.”
    “ The only reason they let us play is
‘cause none of them wants to stand on the line with his hands up
and count to ten.”
    “ I guess, but at least my team
won.”
    “ You didn’t have anything to do with
it. You just stood there counting.”
    “ I ran out for passes.”
    “ They didn’t throw to you. At least
they threw one to
me.”
    “ And you missed it.”
    “ If they used a smaller football like
the one we play with . . .”
    “ The big kids don’t want to play baby
football.”
    “ Oh, Emery, be quiet!”
    The bigger boys had allowed Philip and Emery
to join the touch football game for the exact reasons the boys
described; to either count to ten before running after the
quarterback—and never catching him—or to run out for a pass—and
never get thrown to—usually.
    “ So what do you want to do?” Emery
asked a moment later.
    “ I don’t want to go home. My father’s
watching the football game.” It was a Sunday.
    “ His team usually loses so he’s always
yelling at the television, and afterward he’s grumpy the rest of
the day.”
    “ Maybe some guys are in the schoolyard
playing punch ball.”
    Philip felt his frustration rise.
    “ Don’t start with punch ball,” he
warned.
    “ Hey, I like punch ball. I won every
game this week.”
    “ Your team won; you didn’t
win.”
    “ Your team lost; you really didn’t win.”
    Philip glared at his friend, but Emery walked
on.
    “ Want to play wall ball?” Emery asked.
“But I don’t have a ball.”
    “ I have one.”
    “ No, wait. I don’t like to play wall
ball with you. You get mad when you lose.”
    Philip felt an angry little snake start to
crawl up his back. “I’m not going to lose, Emery. And I don’t get
mad. Here, I have a new ball.” He took the ball out of his
pocket.
    “ Let me see it,” said Emery.
    Philip tossed the hard, air-filled pink ball
to his friend.
    “ This is the ball you owe me,” said
Emery.
    “ What!”
    “ You threw mine away,
remember?”
    “ That was two weeks ago.”
    “ So?”
    “ That was two weeks ago.” It was the
only thing Philip could think of to say. He and Emery had been
playing wall ball behind Emery’s house. Emery had been way ahead,
and Philip got angry and told Emery the ball was no good and threw
it so wildly it missed the wall and sailed past the house into the
street. A gigantic truck rolling by ran over the ball and exploded
it like a balloon.
    “ You still owe me a ball,” said
Emery.
    “ But I missed the wall by accident. I
shouldn’t have to give you a ball because of an
accident.”
    “ Accident! You got mad and threw it
away.”
    “ I did not.”
    “ You did.”
    “ No, no.”
    “ Yes, yes.”
    The two boys scowled at each other. Finally,
Emery said, “Pay me back, or I’m going home. You owe me a
ball.”
    “ I don’t.”
    “ You do.”
    “ I don’t.”
    Emery turned and threw Philip’s ball into the
Erbacher’s front yard.
    “ Hey,” said Philip, running toward the
Erbacher’s so he could keep his eye on the ball. He chased it until
it stopped rolling. When he turned around, Emery was
gone.
     

Chapter Two
     
    Philip stuffed his ball into his pocket. Now
what was he going to do, with no one