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Kristy groaned. Some days started out worse than others. The times you ran late, for example. Or when you forgot your homework, or tripped over something in the hallway.
Then, there were days that began with Alan Gray doing a Dolly Parton impression before homeroom.
“Maxine,” he sang, “Maxine, Maxine, Maxiiiiiiiiiiiiine!”
Max Mayfield sat behind him, and she kicked the back of his chair with such force that he lurched forward, knocking his desk askew. Nothing daunted, he kept going.
“I’m beggin’ of you, please don’t take my man! Maxine, Maxine, Maxine, Maxiiiiiiiiiiiiine!”
She tried hitting him in the head with a notebook but he managed to swipe it out of her grasp. He began fanning himself with it, grinning like an idiot.
“Please don’t take him just because you can! Your beauty is beyond compare, with flaming locks of auburn hair…”
“SHUT UP, ALAN!” she roared, kicking him again.
That was the moment when Mr. Zizmore arrived and gave Max detention. Nothing happened to Alan, which hardly seemed fair. When the bell rang, he demurely returned Max’s notebook, pretending not to notice her withering glare.
The whole thing had nothing to do with Kristy, but she still left for English feeling grumpy about it.
“Pig guts!” Kristy announced, slamming her tray onto the table. “They’ve given us pig guts for lunch!”
Dawn took a bite of her apple. “You could always bring your own lunch, you know.”
“Yeah,” agreed Mary Anne. “We wouldn’t have to hear your disgusting comments, and you’d get to eat something you actually like.”
“I guess, but where’s the fun in… Hey, it has little black bits in it! Maybe it’s actually anteater guts. Half-digested ants from the inside of a—”
“Kristy!”
“Okay, okay.”
Kristy hesitated, and then took a bite of anteater guts. It tasted as gross as it looked.
“Okay, so I asked my mom if we can use the boxes in our attic,” said Stacey. “She said it’s fine, as long as they aren’t destroyed. I mean, she doesn’t care if they get paint on them, but she does care if they’re ripped apart.”
“No problem,” said Claudia.
“We’ll just need help transporting them to the barn. They’re flattened, but it’s a big pile and kind of a long way to carry them. Kristy, does Charlie mind stopping by my house when he gives you a ride?”
Kristy was a little distracted. One table over, Alan Gray would not shut up about his video game skills.
“I’m King of the Arcade!” he announced, pumping both fists in the air. “Pac-Man, Dig Dug, and Centipede. Reigning champion of all three! Bow before your master, peasants, and be ashamed!”
Kristy rolled her eyes. While Alan and Irv Hirsch made plans to meet at the arcade tomorrow, Kristy tried valiantly to ignore them. The last thing she needed was for Alan to notice her listening. Being annoying near her was bad enough, but Alan had a bad habit of deliberately being annoying at her.
“Kristy? Hello?”
Kristy took another bite of anteater guts.
“I’ll ask Charlie,” she said. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
Kristy had math class after lunch. Her seat was by the window, next to Miranda Shillaber, and as she wove through the classroom she passed Max’s desk.
Max hadn’t lived in Stoneybook for very long. Kristy wasn’t exactly friends with her, but they weren’t not friends either. She seemed okay. She was looking both glum and angry that afternoon, staring into space with her chin resting on her closed fist, and Kristy felt nothing but sympathy. She’d look exactly the same if Alan had landed her in detention.
Kristy froze. Out of nowhere, she felt the familiar zing of one of her trademark Great Ideas.
She turned around.
“Hey,” she said.
Max looked up.
“Um,” she replied. “Hey.”
“Are you free tomorrow?”
“What for?”
By this time of day, Kristy’s hair was always a mess. She didn’t care about how she looked, but she hated the feeling of hair sticking to the back of her neck. She dumped her books on a nearby desk and began retying her ponytail.
“The arcade. Alan Gray was bragging about his high scores at lunch. Want to help me destroy him?”
Max’s face slowly broke into a grin.
“Sure.”
“Cool! He’ll be there at two, and he says he has the top score on three games. So we’ll need as much time as we can get.”
“Which ones?”
“Centipede, Pac-Man, and Dig Dug.”
Max gave a brusque nod. “I can definitely take him on Dig Dug and Pac-Man.”
“Right. I can take Centipede.”
The conversation was starting to feel like a war council, which only energized Kristy further.
“It opens at nine thirty, which is kind of early for a Saturday, but it’s—”
“—for a good cause,” said Max, completing Kristy’s sentence. “I can make it. See you tomorrow?”
“Absolutely.”
With a quick grin, Kristy picked up her books. She slid into her seat just as the second bell rang.
Friday hadn’t been so hot. But Saturday might just make up for it.
“Nooooo!” wailed Kristy. “You stupid spider!”
Getting a high score was usually an awesome feeling. But there was nothing like seeing the letters APG ranked right above her own initials to totally ruin the experience.
Max eyed Alan's score. “What does the P stand for?”
“Pest,” Kristy muttered darkly, scrolling through the alphabet. “This sucks! I was so close!”
“Next game,” said Max. “You’re on a roll.”
“Do you want a turn?”
“Nah, Centipede's not my game. It’s all yours.”
It hadn’t taken Max long to annihilate Alan on Dig Dug. She was excellent at Pac-Man too, but Alan's score was ridiculously high and she hadn’t beaten him yet. The Pike triplets had swooped onto the machine while Max was in the bathroom, so she’d joined Kristy at Centipede.
“Aren’t you going again?”
“I need a break.” Kristy frowned. “I’m hungry, and my hands kinda hurt. Want a Ring Ding?”
Max scrunched up her nose. “I wish, but I need all my quarters for Pac-Man.”
“It’s okay, Claudia donated some snacks to the cause.”
“What?”
Kristy unzipped her backpack. Inside, there were four Ring Dings, a large bag of peanut M&Ms, a bag of Doritos, and a box of Milk Duds.
“Wow. Where’d that come from?”
“Claudia Kishi. Do you know Claudia? You’ll recognize her when you see her, she’s an artist and she dresses really wild. She’s like a walking vending machine.” Kristy handed Max two Ring Dings. “Take them, you need sustenance. Want to eat outside?”
“Okay,” agreed Max.
They ended up sitting cross-legged on a bench outside Bellair’s, with Claudia’s bounty between them and Max’s skateboard underneath. They made quick work of the Ring Dings and Doritos, and it turned out that Max shared Kristy’s knack for throwing Milk Duds in the air and catching them in her mouth.
“Okay, this time I’ll throw and you catch. Ready?”
Max tensed, her eyes on the Milk Dud. Kristy threw it upwards. It made a perfect arc in the air, and Max caught it deftly between her teeth.
“All right! Do one for me!”
Max tipped a small handful out of the box, eating all but one. She slightly overshot her throw; Kristy had to lean backwards to catch it, and lost her balance. She scrambled for a handhold and narrowly missed falling off the bench, but somehow still managed to catch the Milk Dud. Mr. Pike was walking past at this exact moment, and he gave a bark of laughter. “Nice save, Kristy.”
Kristy blushed. “Thanks, Mr. Pike.”
Max couldn’t stop laughing. Once he was out of earshot, Kristy threw a Milk Dud at her head. “You overshot it!”
“Hey! Don’t waste them!”
Max was still giggling, but that was a fair point. Kristy had planned to throw a second one at her, but she ate it instead.
“Do you want to come to my house for dinner? My stepdad and my grandmother are having a spaghetti cook-off, so there’ll be tons of food.”
“Is everyone in your family super competitive?”
“Yes. Every last one of us. Are you coming?”
“Sure. I like spaghetti.” Max glanced at her watch. “We should get back.”
Kristy leapt to her feet, shoving the food into her backpack. Max was right. They needed to keep their eyes on the prize.
“Let’s go.”
Kristy’s eyes were wide, and her fingernails were digging into her arms. Max was close. She was so, so close.
It had taken Kristy eleven more tries to beat Alan’s Centipede score, but she’d done it. She’d never been number one on an arcade game before, and it was a total rush. She’d even made a mental note to see if Sam had any high scores in here. If he did, he was toast. But not today – there were other priorities.
Pac-Man was a popular game, and a whole hour passed before Max had gotten another turn. Now, Max and Kristy only had two quarters left between them. And Alan was going to be here in twenty minutes.
Kristy winced. Max was tantalizingly close to Alan’s score, with only one life left, and she’d just narrowly missed a ghost.
“Wow,” whispered Haley Braddock, who was hovering at Kristy’s elbow. “I’ve never got that many points.”
Kristy nodded grimly. If Max lost now, they were unlikely to make it. Technically, it was possible. But a loss like this would be a tough mental hurdle, especially under pressure. But she was close. Extremely close.
Kristy gasped.
“NOOOOOOO!” shouted Max, giving the game a hard kick. “Damn it! You stupid piece of—”
“No!” Kristy grabbed Max’s arm. “I think… I think you just…”
The scoreboard flashed onto the screen. Max’s score, plus space for her name, was at the top of the board – twenty points higher than Alan’s.
Haley shrieked.
“YES!” bellowed Kristy, pumping her fist in the air. “YOU DID IT!”
Max glanced over at them, a little embarrassed by their noise, but her eyes were bright as she scrolled through the alphabet.
“Only just.”
“Who cares!” shouted Kristy. “Three out of three! We did it! We got him!”
“Got who?” asked Haley, but Kristy and Max couldn’t hear her over the noise of the arcade, and the satisfying slap of a perfectly executed high five.
On the far wall, there was a long bench that ran the length of the arcade. Max and Kristy managed to find a free space that wasn’t sticky with spilled soda, and had a decent view of all three games. There were still some Milk Duds left over, and they hadn’t even opened the M&Ms, so they pigged out while waiting for Alan to show up.
He was early. Kristy had assumed he’d immediately go find his high scores – either to check on them, or to gloat – but he didn’t. He wandered casually over to Zaxxon instead.
“Sure, now he picks the least obnoxious option,” muttered Kristy. “The one time we don’t want him too.”
He only played Zaxxon for about five minutes, but it felt like an eternity. When he finally finished the game, he made a beeline for Dig Dug, and Kristy and Max perked right up. They weren’t disappointed; as soon as he saw the scoreboard, his jaw dropped in disbelief. Centipede was one aisle over, and he practically ran towards it – as expected, his alarmed expression only grew.
“This is awesome,” whispered Max, nudging Kristy in the ribs.
Alan bolted towards Pac-Man, but Sean Addison was in the middle of a game. He bounced impatiently on the balls of his feet, and Kristy struggled to keep from acting similarly. When Alan saw the scoreboard, he looked horrified – and as soon as he looked up from the screen, he caught sight of Kristy and Max calmly eating their supply of junk food.
Kristy had been at war with Alan Gray for years. She could pick the precise moment he realized just who had dethroned him.
“You!”
With an air of cool dignity, Kristy ate an M&M.
“The King is dead,” she said.
Max raised the box of Milk Duds in salute.
“Long live the Queens.”