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The Best in the World: Chapter Two

5 min read
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The story so far: Nick and his best friend, Clay, have decided to write their own book of world records – in which they hold all the records.

“What record should we try for first?” Nick repeated.

“Something nobody’s ever done before?” Clay asked.

“Like seeing how many jelly beans we can stuff in our mouths?” Nick puffed out his cheeks until his eyes squinted.

“Naw,” Clay said. “Too easy. And I bet it’s been done.”

“What if we did it standing on our heads? Only black ones?”

“Get real!” Clay said. “I hate black ones and I don’t want to choke on jelly beans and die upside down making a record for some book. Even ours. There’s gotta be something else! Maybe something that’ll make us the richest kids in the world.”

“There are lots of rich kids in the world,” Nick said. “You just have to be born rich.”

“But maybe we could make a record for becoming rich kids by making the most money in a day. Or in a couple hours.”

Nick thought for a moment. Getting rich and setting a record sounded like a pretty awesome combination. He nodded. “Maybe. But how can we make that much money?”

Before Clay could answer, Nick heard his mother calling for him. “Ma-a-an!” he muttered. “Coming!” he called, running.

“What does she want?” Clay asked, puffing alongside Nick. Nick shrugged and leaped up the steps to the back porch. All he knew was, whenever his mother called, she meant business.

Opening the screen door, Nick and Clay were hit by the smell of just-baked chocolate chip cookies. Nick’s four-year-old sister, Jazz for Jasmine, was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a huge pile of cookies. His mother had called him in to have cookies with Jazz? Give me a break! he thought.

Jazz looked up. “What took you so long?”

Nick’s mother turned from washing a mixing bowl.

“That was fast!” She smiled. “I told Jazz she couldn’t have any until you two were here.”

Jazz reached for a cookie, but Nick was faster.

Clay took a bite and smiled at Nick’s mother. The chocolate smeared on his teeth made him look dangerous. “These are great!” he said. He turned to Nick. “Maybe we should see how many of these puppies we can eat in a minute. Or an hour. Or a year!”

“Why would you want to do that?” Nick’s mother asked.

“To be the best in the world at something,” Nick answered.

“But you’re already the best in the world at something.”

“Yeah?” Nick wondered if she was poking fun at them.

“Yes. Nick, you’re the best in the world at being yourself. And you, Clay, are the best at being yourself!”

Both Nick and Clay groaned. What a mother-thing to say!

Her face turned serious. “Nick, I need to get some work done around here, so I want you to look after Jazz for the next few hours.” Nick was about to say no, when she interrupted. “And I want you to pick up some things at the grocery store for me.” She took a list from her pocket, and a twenty-dollar bill. “For doing me such a big favor, you can keep the change after you’ve bought everything.”

Before Nick could protest, Clay blurted, “Sure thing!”

“Thanks for being a good sport, Clay,” said Nick’s mother.

Feeling grumpy at his mother and Clay, Nick took the list and the money. He reached for two more cookies, daring his mother to say no. She didn’t. “Come on, Jazz.” He held out his other hand. Her hand was as warm as the cookies.

Clay nabbed two cookies on his way to the door. “See you later,” he called, slipping outside. “What’s on the list?” he whispered as they rounded the corner of the house. He took it from Nick and read. “We’re on our way to making a ton of money,” he said handing it back. “This record’s going to be a cinch.”

“How’s that?”

“My mom’s got everything that your mom needs. Except the toilet paper. We’ll keep the twenty bucks for our world record!”

“Isn’t that stealing?” Nick asked.

“It’s not stealing if you take stuff that’s yours, is it?”

“But that stuff doesn’t belong to just you,” Nick replied.

“So I won’t eat chips or drink soda for a week. That should make up for my part of it,” Clay countered.

They were headed for Clay’s house and stopped to wait for a red light. Cattycorner, a man stood facing traffic, holding a piece of cardboard for passing cars to see. Nick read, “Hungry and Homeless.” A car rolled to a stop. The man nodded his thanks as the driver handed him money.

“His clothes aren’t raggedy. Not even dirty,” Clay said, nodding toward the man. “He must make a ton of money.”

Jazz tugged at Nick’s hand. “Nick?” she asked.

“Just a minute,” Nick answered, gripping Jazz’s hand tighter. He looked at Clay. “So?”

“So. He just gave me an idea. For making a ton of money.”

Nick frowned. The light turned green.

What was Clay getting them into now?

Next Week: Bloody jeans and begging

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