Extraordinary Losers 3 Read Free Page A

competitors quickly caught up with him and overtook him!
    Mundi stopped counting. “Oh no. Oh no, Da-Da-Da-rryl. What is happening?” His eyes twitched in nervousness.
    â€œBOOOOOOOOO!” The familiar sound assailed my ears once more. It was the sound of losing. The sound of failure and the sound of wimps. We were rudely knocked back to reality.
    â€œGOOOOOOOOO, CLAN!” Janice did not relent. She was still his cheerleader and she was not about to stop now. With all her might, she mimicked the voices of at least 100 Brightstars cheering and applauding. Clandestino looked at the spectator stand, surprised that so many children were cheering for him.
    â€œI have to finish the race,” he mumbled. Of course, only I could hear him. Sadly, my crusty ears (I have to keep them crusty in order to hear less) were my only assets.
    Adam pounded fiercely on the track and he was now in the lead. Just as he was about to reach the finishing line, he turned to the crowd and flashed the most goofy grin. With his chest arched forward, he crossed the line effortlessly.
    Clandestino was 15 metres behind him, scrambling to finish the race. His face contorted in agony as he used every last ounce of his superhuman strength to reach the finishing line.
    â€œBlue House, five points!” Mr Grosse proclaimed as Adam crossed the line. The whole stadium was up on their feet in exhilaration!
    Except Mundi, Janice and me.
    â€œHooray!” came the sickening yells from the other houses.
    Clandestino finally made it to the finishing line, limping. “Leg cramp, leg cramp!” he moaned.
    â€œBoooo! Loser,” the other houses jeered.
    We couldn’t believe what just happened! I zoomed in on Leonard and Adam and saw them congratulating each other with a high-five! Then Adam strutted back, shaking hands with other students along the way. His stiff hair remained untouched, and not a bead of sweat was on him.
    Janice quickly toddled up to Clandestino and offered him a donut.
    â€œThanks, Jan. But I am not in the mood,” he said. “My feet are sore!” He tore off his shoes and flung them to the ground. “I don’t understand how this could have happened!” Desperate to relieve his sore feet, he sat down and began massaging them.
    â€œYou started off well, Clan,” Janice reminded him. “Maybe your muscles cramped up.”
    Mundi and I rushed down the steps to offer some comfort. We really didn’t know what to say. A part of us was upset that he did not win the race. Janice stared at Clandestino while she gnawed on a tiramisu donut. Mundi couldn’t bear to look at Clandestino. His eyes were focused on the ground. I mean, all our hopes were pinned on him – Clandestino Chang – and he had only brought us down further.
    Some random kids from Red House whose names we didn’t even know came up to us. “Hey, if you can’t run a race, don’t take part in it. Losers.”
    We stood there, our lips pursed in sadness, looking at Clan. Mundi scratched his head, and at that moment, he really did not know what to say except, “Err… Clan. I think you-you-your socks are a little black and a li-li-li-little smelly.”
    â€œMundi?!” I elbowed him.
    Janice walked up to Mundi and whispered something in his ear. “Get Milo,” was all I heard.
    â€œOh yes, yes… of course,” Mundi mumbled and ran off immediately, his skinny legs dancing through the air.
    Clandestino looked at us with a tear in his left eye. “Sorry, guys, I didn’t mean to disappoint you.” He stifled a sob.
    â€œIt’s okay, Clan,” I said. “But could someone have been responsible for it?”
    Clandestino looked up, hope in his eyes. “Yeah, I am not sure. I was running, and as I ran around the bend, everything was going smoothly. Then after about 80 metres, I felt my feet getting heavier and in my struggle, I twisted my ankle. I am not