Chapter 1

CRRRASSSHHH! That was the sound of my ceramic Stormtrooper bank breaking into 100 pieces. I had turned it upside down and tapped it against the metal leg of my desk, because I thought that was a good idea for getting the money out. It wasn’t. But at least my money was there, and it looked like A LOT.

I needed to get it out to buy this really cool Nerf laser blaster I saw on TV. I had accidentally broken my last one the time we had a Nerf battle at my cousin Reza’s house. I’d been imagining that everyone was turning into man-eating giants with warts all over their faces and got a bit carried away. That’s the best part—pretending you’re running from something way scarier than your cousins and friends.

While I was counting my riches, Maryam came in and said, “You’re such an idiot. You know there is a little rubbery piece at the bottom you can just open the thing with.”

“I know,” I said. I actually didn’t know, so I felt kind of stupid. I tried really hard to think of something smart to say, but, in the meantime, Maryam tried to sit on my wheelie chair, which wheeled itself away from her with a mind of its own. She completely missed the seat and hit the floor, and we both almost wet our pants laughing.

She disappeared back to her room after that, leaving me to add up all my coins and bills. In total, I had $42.53. Super cool—that had to be enough to buy the Nerf blaster! I borrowed Mom’s phone and called my best friend, Charlie. After I told him, he said, “Whoa! How did you get that much?”

“I put all the money I got for Eid and all the money I got for my birthday in there. Dad said it would be worth the wait for something awesome if I saved up.”

“Aw, man, that’s cool. I spend my money the minute I get it.” 

I told Charlie that I used to do that, too, but then I imagined that if I saved enough money, one day I could pay people to let me drive even though I’m only a kid. And maybe I would end up with enough money to buy a Ferrari, because they’re only like $150,000, which surely couldn’t take that long to save.

Mom shouted up the stairs that it was time to get off the phone and put my shoes on to go to the mosque. But she said it really nicely and she even called me “sweetie,” so I didn’t think it was that urgent and I kept talking to Charlie and daydreaming about my Ferrari. Charlie was daydreaming, too, because I said I’d pay people to let him drive as well.

Then Mom came in and blew my ears off. “I said put your shoes on!”

Yikes! 

“Bye, Charlie.”

Our mosque trips had become even more fun since Dad started coming with us. He changed things around so that he doesn’t have to go to the lab on Saturdays anymore, which means more cool things can happen on weekends now. He even took me go-karting recently, which was the best Saturday ever!

Gulp. I couldn’t find my left shoe, and Mom was going to lose it if I didn’t get this done in fifteen milliseconds . . . Yes! I saw it on top of the sofa and grabbed it while Dad stood over me with a face like that emoji whose lips are just a very straight line. But when I went to put it on, I saw that it had been treated to a dose of my little brother’s slime in a bucket. I didn’t dare complain or look for other shoes, so I shoved my foot in. It was disgusting. Like I was stepping on a gazillion zombie eyeballs. EWWWWWWWW. I squished and squirted my way to the Peanut (that’s our car) and jumped in.

At the mosque, when we were all praying, Esa sat on my head and made me laugh. I had to control myself before it turned into a full-on giggle fit, so I imagined that there was a super-villain holding me in a headlock and if I laughed out loud, he would blow up the whole entire universe. But if I kept quiet as a mouse, he would release me and the universe would be safe . . . 

Phew, I managed it. I was pretty pleased with myself, especially when Dad turned and winked at me when the prayer was finished. I know why he did it. To show me that he saw Esa on my head and that he was proud of how I’d handled it. Also because he was in a good mood. He’s always in a good mood at the mosque, and he has a different sort of smile on his face while we’re there. Maybe it’s a secret smile that’s only for Allah or something. I think he’s really glad we found such a great mosque close to our new house. All the others Mom made us try out when we first moved are miles away. Dad says he’s happy that it has the kind of vibes that make him feel closer to Allah. Mom and Dad like those kinds of vibes, and they say you don’t get them in every mosque. Everyone is really nice to each other, and it’s quiet, and light comes streaming in through the windows on sunshiny days.

Chapter 2

On Monday at school, I rolled in with an imaginary Nerf blaster in my arms and targeted my best friend, Charlie.

POW!

He gave me the very same toothy grin that made me like him when I moved to this school recently. Then he pulled out his own blaster from under the table (imaginary, too, of course) and pretended to blast me right back.

I think his imagination has been getting stronger since we became friends, like a muscle does when you lift weights all day long.

When Daniel saw us, he giggled and punched me on the arm. Don’t worry, it was one of those friendly punches that don’t hurt at all. Daniel is our friend now. He doesn’t actually bully anyone anymore, not even Charlie, who used to be his favorite target for all things horrible. There’s no way we’d be friends with a bully, but it turns out Daniel had reasons for being so naughty at school, and now that he has us as friends to hang out with, he’s totally different.

“It’s a Nerf laser blaster,” I announced. “Imaginary for now, but I’m going to get a real one with the money I’ve saved.”

“Oh, cool!” said Daniel. “I want one.”

“Me too!” chipped in Charlie.

“Let’s all get them and have an epic Nerf battle.”

“We can all pretend to be spies, like James Bond chasing down an evil villain,” Daniel said excitedly.

“OH YEAAAAH!” Charlie and I said at the same time. We often say things at the same time, which is super funny and sometimes super freaky.

“Do you have enough money?” I asked.

“No, but my mom said she was going to buy me something for, ummmm . . .” Daniel sheepishly scratched the back of his head instead of finishing his sentence.

“For what?” 

Charlie and I did it AGAIN. Same words, same time. Same wanting to know what Daniel was getting a treat for.

“Umm . . .” 

“For washing your dad’s car?” I guessed.

“For cleaning your room?” Charlie guessed.

Daniel did some more sheepish head-scratching.

I tried another guess. “For getting ten out of ten on your spelling test?”

“No . . . no . . . um . . . actually for ‘settling in so much better at school and making such good friends,’” Daniel said, using air quotes as he blushed bright red.

Charlie and I both jumped onto Daniel to give him a hug. I think he was blushing because he’s not always 100% sure that we like him as our friend, but we super definitely do. We keep finding so many things that we like to do together—like the Nerf blasters!

We couldn’t help but talk about it all during math, because it was way more exciting than learning about what a denominator was and how we could think about a pizza in fractions. The only thing I think when I see a pizza is how quick I can get it into my mouth. Mrs. Hutchinson was very excited about fractions. I could tell because her curly hair was all big and springy. That’s one thing I like about Mrs. Hutchinson—she thinks everything is entertaining.

“I CANNOT WAIT for the Nerf battle. It’s going to be crazy fun!” I whispered.

Charlie whispered back, “I knooowww. I just have to think of a way to convince my parents to buy me a blaster, too.” 

“You do know that both of you whisper as loud as you talk,” Daniel pointed out.

He must have been right, because Mrs. Hutchinson came over, attempting to put her cross face on, and said, “Stop chatting and tell me how much pizza is on the board, boys.”

“Not enough for me,” said Daniel.

And we all exploded with laughter.

We had to clap our hands over our mouths quickly before Mrs. Hutchinson got upset.

Then Charlie said, “One-sixth,” with his toothy grin. 

Phew, Mrs. Hutchinson was pleased enough, even with all our giggling.

I couldn’t wait to get home and ask Mom and Dad if they were OK with us having a big Nerf showdown at home and would they please order pizza that day. Maybe I could promise to talk about the pizza as fractions, like Mrs. Hutchinson was doing—then they’d be up for it for sure. So cheesy!

They love brainy stuff like that. They say it’s because they’re scientists, but I think they’re scientists because they like brainy stuff. It’s like the chicken-and-egg situation.