Prince Amos by Gary Paulsen

Duncan—Dunc—Culpepper was in his room, choosing a tie to go with his new blue suit. “Amos, do you realize that we are about to become a part of history in the making?”
    Amos Binder, his best friend for life, was sprawled across Dunc’s bed, pulling little threads out of the bedspread.
    “She loves me. She loves me not.”
    “Did you hear me, Amos? When we get to the state capitol tomorrow, we’ll be able to witness firsthand how laws are made. It’s really an honor to get to be a page for a senator. While we’re running errands, we’llget to see how the whole process works up close.… Amos?”
    Dunc walked over and jerked the edge of his bedspread out of Amos’s hand.
    Amos scowled. “You made me land on ‘she loves me not.’ “
    “You’re ruining my bedspread. Aren’t you even a little excited about getting to go to the state capitol to run errands for the senators?”
    “Oh … that.”
    Dunc waved his hand in front of Amos’s face. “Earth to Amos. What’s with you today?”
    Amos sat up. “Everybody in Mrs. Wormwood’s social studies class is going to the state capitol, right?”
    “Right.”
    Amos grinned. “Then that means Melissa called me last night.”
    Dunc shook his head. “I’m not following you.”
    “She knows I’m going.”
    “So?”
    “So last night she called to tell me shewanted to sit together on the bus and probably eat all her meals with me, and maybe get closer to me, and—”
    Dunc raised one eyebrow. “Wait a minute. Melissa Hansen actually called you and told you all that?”
    Amos had been in love with Melissa since the first day he met her in grade school, when he spilled chocolate milk down the back of her dress in the cafeteria.
    “Not exactly. But she did call, and that’s the important thing. We can work out the details on the bus tomorrow.”
    “What did she say?”
    “It’s kind of a long story. My family was in the living room, watching a football game. Uncle Alfred was sitting in his favorite chair. You remember Uncle Alfred?”
    Dunc nodded. “The one that picks his feet through his stinky socks?”
    “Right,” Amos continued. “Anyway, everybody was in there watching the game. Actually, I was watching my cousin little Brucie. He’s teething now, and he was chewing on Scruff’s tail. It was really a bettershow than the TV. Scruff reached around and took a bite out of Brucie. Then Brucie grabbed Scruff’s ear, and—”
    “Amos, what did Melissa say?”
    “Oh, yeah. Well, the phone rang just as the quarterback snapped the ball. Of course, I always take the shortest route to the phone. Melissa likes me to get it on that all-important first ring.”
    Dunc nodded again. Amos had this strange idea that Melissa would hang up if he didn’t get to the phone by the first ring. In the past Dunc had tried to reason with him. Tried to explain that since Melissa Hansen had never once in her entire life called Amos, he couldn’t possibly know what ring she wanted him to answer on. But he couldn’t convince him and had finally given up trying.
    “I stepped up onto the coffee table,” Amos went on, “missed all the dips and snacks, and had a clear shot at the phone. My form was excellent, rhythm and timing perfect. My left foot was powering off the coffee table. I was about to hit the core stride when it happened.”
    “What?”
    “I blocked Uncle Alfred’s view of a touchdown. He grabbed me in midair as I stepped off the table and tossed me into the metal trash can in the corner of the room. It was amazing. You wouldn’t think a man that big could move that fast. He was back in his chair before the announcer finished calling the play.”
    “Did you make it to the phone?”
    “No. It took my mom almost an hour to pry the trash can off my rear end.”
    “Then who talked to Melissa?”
    “Little Brucie. But he bit the telephone cord in two before anyone could get to the phone.”
    “You never talked to her, but you know she wants to sit