Why we took the car

Mike Klingenberg is a troubled fourteen-year-old from a disfunctional family in Berlin who thinks of himself as boring, so when a Russian juvenile delinquent called Tschick begins to pay attention to him and include Mike in his criminal activities, he is excited--until those activities lead to disas...

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Bibliographic Details
Main Author: Herrndorf, Wolfgang, 1965-
Other Authors: Mohr, Tim
Format: Books Print Book
Language:English
German
Published: New York : Arthur A. Levine Books, an imprint of Scholastic, 2014.
Edition:First edition.
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From WHY WE TOOK THE CARTatiana may not have invited the biggest losers to her birthday party, but she seemed to have invited everyone else with a pulse. We slowly passed the house. Nobody had seen us, and it occurred to me that I didn't have any idea how I was going to give Tatiana the Beyoncé drawing I'd painstakingly made for her. I began to think seriously about the idea of just tossing it out the window. Somebody would find it and take it to her. But before I could do something stupid, Tschick had stopped the car and hopped out. I watched him, horrified. I don't know if it's always so embarrassing to have a crush on somebody. Apparently I'm not very good at it. As I was debating whether to slump down and pull my jacket over my head or to put an it-wasn't-my-idea look on my face, fireworks started going off behind the redbrick house, exploding red and yellow in the sky, and almost everyone ran into the backyard. The only people left out front were Andre and Tatiana, who'd come to say hi to him. And Tschick.Tschick was standing directly in front of them. I saw him start talking to Tatiana and saw her answer. She looked pissed. Tschick motioned to me behind his back. As if in a trance, I got out of the car and as for what happened next, don't ask me. I have no idea. I was suddenly next to Tatiana with the drawing in my hand, and I think she looked at me with the same pissed-off look she'd glared at Tschick with. But I didn't notice.I said, "Here."I said, "Beyoncé."I said, "A drawing."I said, "For you."Tatiana stared at the drawing, and before she had looked up from it I heard Tschick say to Andre, "Nah, no time. We have something to take care of." He nudged me and went back to the car. I followed. Then the engine fired up. I pounded my fist on the dashboard as Tschick shifted into second gear and crept toward the end of the cul-de-sac. "Want to see something cool?" he asked.I didn't answer. I couldn't."Want to see something cool?" Tschick asked again."Do whatever you want!" I yelled. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, such a feeling of relief.Tschick revved the engine and raced toward the end of the cul-de-sac. Then he yanked the steering wheel first to the right and then the left and pulled the emergency brake at the same time. The car did a 180 right in the middle of the street and I nearly flew out the window."Step on it!" I shouted."I am.""Faster!" I yelled, watching my fists pound the dash. Relief does not begin to express the way I felt. Excerpted from Why We Took the Car by Wolfgang Herrndorf All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.