Kid Owner by Tim Green Read Free Book Online

Don’t guess. I do own them. You just read it.”
    â€œI guess it’s good.” He looked back down at his science notes.
    â€œIt’s way more than good, Jackson. Do you guess you’d like to watch them play the New York Giants from the sideline ? That’s the kind of thing the owner can do. Me and you—and maybe Izzy, too—at every Cowboys home game!” I turned my attention to my science binder and hunched over my own notes, pretending to study, but seeing nothing but the Dallas Cowboys’ sideline in my mind. Hanging out with John Torres, the big-time starting quarterback rumored to have dated Selena Gomez.
    That silenced Jackson for a while, but after the morning announcements and before the bell ending homeroom, he closed his science notebook and turned to me. “Are you ready for the game this weekend? I heard Hutchinson has a really big fullback who ran all over people last season.”
    My mouth dropped open. “Jackson, seriously? Hutchinson? The Cowboys play New York this weekend and you and me are gonna be on the sideline. The Giants have got Rashad Jennings. Who cares about some seventh-grade fullback?”
    The bell rang, and Jackson frowned and shrugged. “I’llcatch you later.” He shouldered his backpack and left for his next class. The rest of the class was sneaking peeks at me, Ryan Zinna, kid owner.
    I can’t say I didn’t revel in it. They stared the way I’d seen people looking at Deion Sanders one time when he was having dinner at the same restaurant my mom took me to on my eleventh birthday. I’ll never forget it, the way everyone stole glances at Deion and his family, trying hard not to get caught doing it and offering up little apologetic smiles when they did.
    I grabbed my stuff and headed down the hall to my next class. I was hoping to run into Izzy on my way, and when I looked up, I saw her close her locker door and turn toward me. I puffed out my chest and gave her a cool and casual thumbs-up.
    â€œHey, Ryan,” Izzy said. She was a pretty girl, tall and athletic with long blond hair.
    â€œHey, Izzy.” I smiled and waited for her next comment.
    â€œHow are you?”
    I deflated, caught myself starting to slouch, then stood straight, remembering who I was. “That’s it?”
    She stopped and gave me a strange look. “What else is there?”
    â€œUm, didn’t you hear about the Cowboys?”
    â€œOh, yeah. Totally cool. Sorry. We’ve already got a quiz in math. Percentages. I hate percentages. I’ve gotta go but I’ll see you at lunch. We can talk about it then.” She waved and headed down the hall.
    What was going on? Why would my only two friends be so thick about this? I shook it off, determined to proceed on course. Let them catch up. My plan was to let the whole thingsink in, see how people reacted, then make my move to influence the world around me: most importantly, my football team.
    The morning went by in a blur. I could barely concentrate in my classes. But it was lunchtime now, and I walked as tall as I could into the lunchroom, past the band kids, who pointed and whispered among themselves. At the brainiacs’ table, I caught Mya smiling my way and gave her a nod. The smart kids seemed as impressed if not as excited as the kids in the band. The kids at the two popular tables weren’t all there yet, but the ones who were seemed to ignore me on purpose, aware of my presence but holding their heads at odd angles to intentionally avoid looking at me. A lot of the football players sat at the boys’ popular table and the girls beside them would flutter back and forth during lunch like butterflies briefly touching down on a bed of flowers.
    I huffed and kept going to our table, the one where me, Izzy, and Jackson sat like the Three Amigos or the Three Musketeers.
    A WEEK EARLIER . . .
    The school year hadn’t started out that way. It had been just me and