Fat Kid Rules the World
Paperback
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A Michael L. Printz Honor Book
Troy Billings is seventeen, 296 pounds, friendless, utterly miserable, and about to step off a New York subway platform in front of an oncoming train. Until he meets Curt MacCrae, an emaciated, semi-homeless, high school dropout guitar genius, the stuff of which Lower East Side punk rock legends are made. Never mind that Troy’s dad thinks Curt’s a drug addict and Troy’s brother thinks Troy’s the biggest (literally) loser in Manhattan. Soon, Curt’s recruited Troy as his new drummer—even though Troy can’t play the drums. Together, Curt and Troy will change the world of punk, and Troy’s own life, forever.
"Troy's voice is candid, irreverent, realistic and humorous. [A] wonderful, engrossing tale."—SLJ
An ALA BBYA
A BCCB Blue Ribbon Book
A Booklist Editors' Choice
An SLJ Best Book of the Year
A Miami Herald Best Book of the Year
Troy Billings is seventeen, 296 pounds, friendless, utterly miserable, and about to step off a New York subway platform in front of an oncoming train. Until he meets Curt MacCrae, an emaciated, semi-homeless, high school dropout guitar genius, the stuff of which Lower East Side punk rock legends are made. Never mind that Troy’s dad thinks Curt’s a drug addict and Troy’s brother thinks Troy’s the biggest (literally) loser in Manhattan. Soon, Curt’s recruited Troy as his new drummer—even though Troy can’t play the drums. Together, Curt and Troy will change the world of punk, and Troy’s own life, forever.
"Troy's voice is candid, irreverent, realistic and humorous. [A] wonderful, engrossing tale."—SLJ
An ALA BBYA
A BCCB Blue Ribbon Book
A Booklist Editors' Choice
An SLJ Best Book of the Year
A Miami Herald Best Book of the Year
"Troy's voice is candid, irreverent, realistic and humorous. [A] wonderful, engrossing tale."—SLJ
- Pages: 224 Pages
- Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
- Imprint: Penguin Books
- ISBN: 9780142402085
An Excerpt From
Fat Kid Rules the World
"Lucky for you I was at that station," Curt says as he watches me eat. "I mean, since I saved your life and all." His eyes track each bite I take, but when I offer him my fries he won't take any.
"I wasn't going to jump," I say, holding a french fry in the air. I'm lying, but only halfway.
Curt scoffs.
"Were," he says as if there's no argument. "I was watching you for, like, an hour. That rude, twirpy kid left, then three trains passed and you never looked up from the tracks. Then the insane laughter and I knew you'd lost it. I said to myself, Curt, you save this kid's life and he will surely buy you lunch."
"I wasn't going to jump," I say again with my best resolute look. I was just thinking. Just thinking."
Curt considers this at length.
"How come?" he finally asks.
I want to give him the you-moron look the kids at school have perfected. Maybe say something sarcastic like, "Use your imagination." I want to say, "Open your eyes. I'm a fucking three-hundred-pound teenager living in the most unforgiving city on earth. I'm ugly and dumb and I make stupid noises when I breathe. I annoy and bewilder my only living parent, mortify my little brother, and have no friends."
I shrug.
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