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Informationen zum Autor Jason Reynolds is a #1 New York Times bestselling author, a Newbery Award Honoree, a Printz Award Honoree, a two-time National Book Award finalist, a Kirkus Award winner, a two-time Walter Dean Myers Award winner, an NAACP Image Award Winner, and the recipient of multiple Coretta Scott King honors. Reynolds is also the 2020–2021 National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature. His many books include When I Was the Greatest , The Boy in the Black Suit , All American Boys (cowritten with Brendan Kiely), As Brave as You , For Every One , the Track series ( Ghost , Patina , Sunny , and Lu ), Look Both Ways , and Long Way Down , which received a Newbery Honor, a Printz Honor, and a Coretta Scott King Honor. He lives in Washington, DC. You can find his ramblings at JasonWritesBooks.com. Klappentext Ali lives in Bed-Stuy, a Brooklyn neighborhood known for guns and drugs, but he and his sister, Jazz, and their neighbors, Needles and Noodles, stay out of trouble until they go to the wrong party, where one gets badly hurt and another leaves with a target on his back.When I Was The Greatest 1 “Okay, I got one. Would you rather live every day for the rest of your life with stinky breath, or lick the sidewalk for five minutes?” Noodles asked. He turned and looked at me with a huge grin on his face because he knew this was a tough one. “It depends. Does gum or mints work?” “Nope. Just shit breath, forever!” He busted out laughing. I thought for a second. “Well, if I licked the ground, I mean, that might be the grossest thing I could ever do, but when the five minutes was up, I could just clean my mouth out.” In my head I was going back and forth between the two options. “But if I got bad breath, forever, then I might not ever be able to kiss the ladies. So, I guess I gotta go with licking the ground, man.” Just saying it made me queasy. “Freakin’ disgusting,” Needles said, frowning, looking out at the sidewalk. “But I would probably do the same thing.” A sick black SUV came flying down the block. The stereo was blasting, but the music was all drowned out by the loud rattle of the bass, bumping, shaking the entire back of the truck. “Aight, aight, I got another one,” Noodles said as the truck passed. He shook his soda can to see if anything was left in it. “Would you rather trade your little sister for a million bucks, or for a big brother, if that big brother was Jay-Z?” “Easy. Neither,” I said, plain. “Come on, man, you gotta pick one.” “Nope. I wouldn’t trade her.” Another car came cruising down the street. This time, a busted-up gray hooptie with music blasting just as loud as the fresh SUV’s. “So you tellin’ me, you wouldn’t trade Jazz for a million bucks?” “Nope.” “You wouldn’t wanna be Jay-Z’s lil brother?” Noodles looked at me with a side eye like I was lying. “Of course, but I wouldn’t trade Jazz for it!” I said, now looking at him crazy. “She’s my sister, man, and I don’t know how you and your brother roll, but for me, family is family, no matter what.” • • • Family is family. You can’t pick them, and you sure as hell can’t give them back. I’ve heard it a zillion times because it’s my mom’s favorite thing to say whenever she’s pissed off at me or my little sister, Jazz. It usually comes after she yells at us about something we were supposed to do but didn’t. And with my mom, yelling ain’t just yelling. She gives it everything she’s got, and I swear it feels like her words come down heavy ...
