TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1: LAST DAY

  CHAPTER 2: PAINTBALL LEAGUE

  CHAPTER 3: THE SCRIMMAGE

  CHAPTER 4: BULLIES IN THE GAME

  CHAPTER 5: FOUL!

  CHAPTER 6: THE FIRST MATCH

  CHAPTER 7: A BAD NIGHT

  CHAPTER 8: TOO FAR

  CHAPTER 9: SEEING RED

  CHAPTER 10: A TALKING-TO

  CHAPTER 11: SORRY

  CHAPTER 12: KEEPING COOL

  Author Bio

  Illustrator Bio

  Glossary

  Discussion Questions

  Writing Prompts

  Paintball Safety

  Copyright

  Back Cover

  CHAPTER 1

  LAST DAY

  Max Stinson hit the ground hard and got a mouthful of mud. Over the sound of his own coughing, he heard mean laughter.

  “Have a good trip, Max,” a nasty voice said from above him. “See you next fall!”

  Max looked up and saw Alex Werme, the biggest, meanest boy in the sixth grade. His goons were with him too. Each of them would have been happy to be the school bully if Alex hadn’t claimed the title.

  Max stayed where he was. Whevener Alex was around, Max always seemed to end up in a mud puddle.

  “See ya, Max,” Alex added as he lightly kicked Max’s shoulder. As he walked away, Alex muttered, “Sooner than you think.”

  Pulling himself up onto his knees, Max saw his best friend, Owen Juele, walking toward him. Max and Owen had grown up on the same block and spent every afternoon after school together. Both of Owen’s parents worked full time, so they always went to Max’s house.

  Owen came to a stop next to Max. He made sure to keep his sneakers just out of the mud puddle.

  “Come on,” Owen said. He held out his hand. “They’re gone.”

  “Thanks a lot,” said Max. “You could have helped me before they tripped me into the mud.”

  “Then I would have ended up in the mud too,” said Owen. “Sounds like a bad idea.”

  Max grunted and climbed to his feet, knocking Owen’s hand away. “Some friend you are,” he said.

  Suddenly, he spotted something that made him forget all about Owen. His backpack — packed full of all the junk he’d finally cleaned out of his locker — was sitting in the mud, soaked.

  “Oh, no,” Max said. “My mom is going to kill me.”

  “Yeah,” said Owen. “Probably.”

  Max sighed and grabbed his bag. “Let’s just get out of here,” he grumbled.

  “Hey,” said Owen, patting his friend on the shoulder. “At least the paintball league starts tomorrow. That’ll give you something to look forward to.”

  “Maybe Alex and his friends will join,” said Max with a sneer. “I’d love to cover all of them with splotches of paint.”

  He wiped mud off the face of his watch and checked the time. “Speaking of the league, we’d better hurry,” he said. “Sign-ups already started.”

  With that, the boys climbed on their bikes and headed off.

  CHAPTER 2

  PAINTBALL LEAGUE

  Max and Owen skidded to a stop in front of Splat Arena. A big sign above the arena’s two front doors read: SUMMER YOUTH PAINTBALL LEAGUE SIGN-UPS TODAY.

  “I thought this summer would never get here,” Max said as they hurried inside.

  There were about twenty kids standing around. Max nodded at the college-aged guy leaning on the sign-up counter and smiling. “Look,” Max said. “It’s Jace.”

  Jace Jennings had once been the best player in the youth paintball league. Now he volunteered as a team leader. The previous summer, he’d led the yellow team to the league championship.

  “Do you think he’ll be our team leader again this summer?” Max asked.

  “I hope so,” Owen said. “He’s the best coach here.”

  “Hey, guys,” Jace said as Max and Owen walked up to the sign-up line. “Joining the yellow team again, I hope?”

  “Definitely!” Max said. “We’ll have the best coach again, right?”

  “You know it,” Jace said with a laugh. “You guys get signed up. I’ll make sure you’re both on my team. See you tomorrow for the first day.”

  Max and Owen eventually reached the front of the line. They picked up rules pamphlets and permission slips for their parents to sign, then headed for the exit.

  But Max didn’t quite make it there — at least, not on his feet. As he walked out the front door, he tripped over something and landed on the grass with a thud!

  “Ow,” Max said, groaning. He rolled over and saw Alex standing over him.

  “Another nice trip for Max,” Alex said. He stopped next to Max on the lawn. His goon friends stood behind him, laughing.

  “What’s Max short for, anyway?” Alex continued. “Maximum Dork?”

  Max didn’t respond. He just waited for Alex to finish making fun of him and move on. Finally, the bully and his friends left.

  Max sat up. “Thanks for helping,” he said to Owen. “Again.”

  Owen offered Max help getting up, but Max slapped his hand away.

  “Look at it this way,” Owen said. “Sure, he’s a bully, and he’s tripped you twice today and made you look like a fool and got you covered in mud and grass stains —”

  “What’s your point?” Max interrupted. He gritted his teeth and stood up.

  “My point is, you got your wish,” Owen said. “If he’s here to sign up for the paintball league, you’ll be able to cover him with yellow paint, just like you wanted.”

  Max grunted. “Alex thinks I’ll make an easy target,” he said. “I just hope he’s wrong.”

  CHAPTER 3

  THE SCRIMMAGE

  Right after breakfast the next morning, Owen and Max jumped on their bikes and took off for Splat Arena. Jace and the other team leaders, along with Stan, the league manager, were the only ones there when Max and Owen arrived.

  “You guys are early,” Stan said.

  “We were too excited to sleep!” Max said.

  “Good to hear. But remember, we’re just scrimmaging today,” Stan reminded them.

  “I know,” Max said. “The coaches need to see what they’re dealing with.”

  “And you kids need some practice,” Jace said with a grin. “Most of you haven’t been in matches in almost a year.”

  “Owen and I have,” Max said. He ran his finger along the barrel of a yellow-team marker. “We were in the winter league while you were away at college.”

  “I said ‘most,’” said Jace. “Now grab a jumpsuit and get ready to scrimmage.”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, everyone else had arrived and gotten dressed for the scrimmage. Stan gathered all the players and went over the rules.

  This is taking forever, Max thought. I just want to start already.

  “Today’s scrimmage will feature two teams with four players each,” Stan said. “We’ll put new players in when someone on the field is eliminated. Everyone will get plenty of play time.”

  Stan went on, “Grab a marker, but don’t fill your hopper yet. You’ll get paintballs when you rotate in. Let’s play!”

  “Finally,” Max whispered to Owen. “I thought we’d never get to play.”

  Owen smirked and pulled down the goggles of his mask. “Let’s get this show on the road,” he said in a gruff voice.

  Owen was picked as one of the first eight players on the field. Max and the others moved to the observation area to watch.

  “Make sure to stay lined up so we know who rotates in next,” Jace reminded them.

  Someone shoved Max from behind. “Oops,” Alex muttered.

  Great. He’s right after me, Max thought. That means we’ll almost definitely be playing at the same time.

  Max watched as the teams moved onto the field. Down below, the ground was covered with obstacles, mounds of dirt, and plastic barrels.

  The other players hid among the shields and barricades in the middle of the field, no-man’s land. Max watched Owen move around the back, staying low. No one spotted him until he had his marker up and an opposing player in his sights.

  Owen managed to mark two players on the other team. He hit the ground to avoid being eliminated as the players fired back.

  “Nice going, Owen!” Max shouted.

  “Next two in,” Stan shouted. “Load up with red, please.”

  The two boys in front of Max hurried to fill their hoppers. Then they entered the arena behind the red team’s barricades. There, they would be safe for a few seconds as the scrimmage continued.

  Max shuffled forward. He was next.

  Jace put a hand on his shoulder. “Remember, this is just a scrimmage,” he said. “No winners or losers. Just play.”

  “I know,” Max said. He pulled down his goggles. Owen was in midfield now and sitting with his back against a plastic barrel. He was playing a slow style. He’d sit and wait for an opportunity to mark the other team. That way he avoided a shootout.

  Meanwhile, another player on Owen’s team ran across no-man’s land, firing wildly at the red team. He missed with every one. But one red paintball struck his arm.

  “Eliminated!” Stan called over the loudspeaker.

  Jace gave Max a friendly shove. “Get in there,” he said.

  Max grinned and loaded his hopper with blue paintballs. He sprinted onto the blue side of the field, making sure to stay well hidden. Stooped behind some green netting, Max raised his marker. He spotted a member of the red team, aimed, and fired.

  “Eliminated!” shouted Stan. “Next player, red team.”

  Max looked up at the waiting area. Alex stood there, grinning from ear to ear.

  CHAPTER 4

  BULLIES IN THE GAME

  Alex played exactly like Max had expected him to. He barreled across the field, counting on the blue team’s poor aim and slow markers to keep him clean. He sprinted toward the blue side of the field, heading straight for Max.

  Max was forced to flee. But he was a crafty player and stayed low, finding a good hiding place. From there, he watched Alex stomp through the field, ignoring the rest of the blue team.

  Owen took advantage of Alex’s focus and aggression. He managed to mark two members of the red team while Max hid.

  “Next two players,” Stan called out.

  Max kept his eyes on Alex. The big bully still hadn’t found him. Alex stalked across no-man’s land, intent on hunting Max down.

  Max smiled. He almost laughed. A few more steps, and he’d would have a clear shot. He could mark Alex easily.

  For a moment, Alex stepped out of sight behind a pair of barrels. As he did, Max realized something. Even though no one on the field could see him, the players up in the observation area could. And two of them had just entered the field to join the red team — Alex’s friends.

  I need a better hiding place, Max thought frantically.

  But it was too late. The moment he tried to sneak away, Alex’s two friends were there blocking his way.

  “Wait a second,” Alex shouted, running over. “Maximum Dork is mine.”

  As he got closer, Alex lifted his marker, pointed it straight at Max’s helmet, and squeezed the trigger.

  Splat!

  CHAPTER 5

  FOUL!

  Whistles blew. Stan shouted from the observation area, “Foul! Foul!”

  Max could hardly hear it. The bang of the paintball against his helmet had left a ringing in his head. “Ow,” he said.

  Jace came running across the field toward them. “Alex!” he shouted. “The rules require a minimum marking distance of fifteen feet. You could have really hurt Max.”

  “Oh, sorry,” Alex said with a smirk. He didn’t sound sorry at all. “I’m used to rules at a different arena. I didn’t know there were special rules for Maximum Dork.”

  “Get off the field,” Jace said. “You’re on the bench the rest of the day.”

  Alex just laughed as he headed off the field. Jace knelt down beside Max.

  “Are you okay?” he said.

  “I think so,” Max said. His hearing was starting to come back.

  “Well, that was an illegal mark, obviously,” Jace said. “So if you’re feeling okay, you can stay in the match.”

  “I’m fine,” Max insisted.

  “So, I’m guessing you and Alex didn’t meet for the first time today,” Jace said.

  Max shrugged. “He’s in my class at school,” he said.

  “Does he pick on you a lot?” Jace asked, looking concerned. “Do you want to talk?”

  “No,” Max said quickly.

  “Well, I’ll be keeping an eye on him,” Jace said. Finally, he stood up and headed back to the observation area.

  I wish he’d back off, Max thought. I don’t need him to make me look like more of a baby.

  Max got to his feet and took a deep breath. He didn’t even take cover as play started again. He just ran into the middle of the field, shooting off paintballs like crazy and marking members of the red team.

  When the scrimmage time was over, Max was still on the field, red-faced and breathing hard.

  “Good work out there,” Owen said as Max came off the field.

  But Max hardly heard him. He was too busy watching Alex and his bully friends cackling as they turned in their gear. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could guess. They were laughing at him.

  How dare they laugh at me! Max thought furiously. I probably got the most eliminations all day. I was on the field the longest.

  Max stomped up to the counter to turn in his gear as Alex and his friends headed toward the exit.

  Jerks. I’ll teach them, Max thought.

  Just then, someone tapped Max on the shoulder. He spun around, his face red and his hands balled into fists. “What?!” he yelled.

  It was Owen. “Um, you okay?” he said, looking startled. “Jace and I have been calling your name for like five minutes.”

  “I’m fine,” Max snapped. He stalked toward the exit. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  * * *

  Max didn’t speak to Owen at all on the bike ride home. When he reached his house, his little sister, Deedee, was out front drawing on the sidewalk with chalk.

  “Watch out, nerd,” Max barked. He skidded to a stop inches from her.

  “Hey! You’re messing up my picture,” Deedee said. She stood up and faced the front door. “Mom!”

  “Mom!” said Max in a snotty imitation. “Don’t be such a baby, Deedee.”

  “Stop it!” his sister shouted at him.

  Max got off his bike and shoved his sister. Deedee fell back onto her butt on the grass. She looked up at him, her eyes big and wet. Then she screamed.

  Great, Max thought. Now I’m going to be in trouble on top of everything else.

  He hurried to push his bike into the garage and dropped it against the wall. Then he went into the house, ran straight to up to his room, and slammed the door.

  CHAPTER 6

  THE FIRST MATCH

  On the second day of paintball league, the tournament began. Max and Owen found Jace waiting for them beneath the yellow team’s banner when they arrived.

  “Hey, guys,” said Jace. “Here you go.” He handed them matching yellow jerseys. “A little nicer than last summer, huh?”

  Max nodded. The jerseys were yellow and looked like racing suits.

  “Turn them around,” Jace said, grinning.

  Max turned his jersey over. On the back was a number and his last name, STINSON, in bold, black lettering.

  “Awesome!” Max said. “Do we get to keep these?”

  Jace nodded. “Yup,” he said. “Included in your league entry fee.”

  “Hey, Max!” a voice yelled.

  Max didn’t even have to look. It was Alex. He’d know that jerk’s voice anywhere.

  “Looks like they forgot to put your real last name on your jersey,” Alex continued. “You know, Maximum Dork!”

  Alex and his bully friends laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. They made their way to the green banner.

  “Looks like the green team will be our arch nemesis this summer, huh?” said Jace.

  Max nodded.

  “But not today,” said Jace. “Today we face the blue team on field two.”

  “I wish we were playing the green team today,” Max grumbled they made their way to one of the two fields. “I can’t wait to show Alex how much better I am.”

  Jace patted him on the back. “Use that energy to help us win today,” he said.

  Max nodded. He and Owen took their positions on the field and looked up at Stan in the observation area. Jace stood next to him, signaling to the other players, helping them find good places to start the match.

  Finally, Stan put up his hand and blew his whistle. The matches began!

  Max took off running. As he darted across the field, shooting his marker wildly, all he could think about was getting revenge on Alex, even though Alex wasn’t in the game.

  Max ran up one side of the field, his marker in front of him, and shot paintball after paintball into the blue team.

  Max’s rapid firing left plenty of yellow paint splattered on the obstacles — the barrels and hunks of wood and fake trees. But not a single blue player was eliminated.

  Max hardly paid attention to Owen and the other two players on his team. They stayed back, waiting for an opportunity to mark a blue player.

  Above him, Jace waved wildly, trying to get his attention. Max didn’t care.

  He’s just going to tell me to play more carefully, Max thought. What good is that going to do?

  Just then, Max felt a stinging thud against his upper arm. He dropped to the ground and looked at his shoulder. Blue paint.

 

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