A middle school must-read that exposes the antisemitism in our country today! From the author of The Wave comes a poignant and timely novel about a group of seventh graders who are brought together—and then torn apart—by an afterschool club that plays a video game based on WW2. There's a new afterschool club at Ironville Middle School. Ms. Peterson is starting a video game club where the students will playing The Good War, a new game based on World War II. They are divided into two teams: Axis and Allies, and they will be simulating a war they know nothing about yet. Only one team will win. But what starts out as friendly competition, takes an unexpected turn for the worst when an one player takes the game too far. Can an afterschool club change the way the students see eachother...and how they see the world? "By using a gaming lens to explore the students’ entrée to prejudice and radicalization, he succeeds in lending immediacy and accessibility to his cautionary tale."— Kirkus Reviews "By using a gaming lens to explore the students’ entrée to prejudice and radicalization, he succeeds in lending immediacy and accessibility to his cautionary tale." — Kirkus Reviews “A quick read and a thought-provoking reflection of the underbelly of our times.” — The Horn Book In his past life, Todd Strasser has been a street musician, composer, reporter, and a fortune-cookie mogul. Now an author of books for teens and middle-graders, he has written more than 140 books, including the bestselling Help! I’m Trapped In series, The Wave, Give a Boy a Gun , and Can’t Get There from Here. The morning bell rang. Goofy Foot, aka Zach Cook, dodged through the mob funneling into Ironville Middle School. Wearing a backpack and carrying a skateboard, he weaved and sidestepped through the crowd. When he accidentally bumped into a girl with long black hair, she snapped, “Watch where you’re going.” Other kids gave him dirty looks as he squeezed past them. But they were the bad guys. In Goofy Foot’s mind, he was in the video game called The Good War, and the entire school was enemy territory. After stashing his skateboard in his locker, Goofy Foot enters the pissorium and is greeted by the harsh odor of bodily waste. He ducks into a stall for shelter before the next bell. Goofy Foot does not want to risk being ambushed at a urinal by the bad guys. The boys’ room door opened with a creak, accompanied by the voices of Gavin Morgenstern and Ratface Fugard. In the stall, Zach held his breath. Ratface, whose real name was Crosby, picked on Zach every chance he got. Zach knew that if Ratface caught him in the pissorium, he’d be dead meat. Goofy Foot hunkers down inside the stall. Through the sliver between the stall door and doorstop, he spies on the enemy’s activities. “I heard Robbie’s parents moved to Franklin so he can play on their football team,” Ratface said, standing in front of the mirror and raking his fingers through his dark hair. His long nose reminded Zach of a rat. “Yeah,” Gavin said at a urinal. “Wish my mom could do that,” Ratface said. “It totally sucks that Ironville canceled football. Imagine if we could all move to Franklin and play?” “It’s a big school,” said Gavin, who had red hair and freck-les. “Think you could make the team?” “Hey, I may not be big, but I’m fast,” said Ratface. Hidden in the stall, Zach wondered about that. Ratface might have been fast, but he was small. Smaller even than Zach. There were plenty of bigger kids who were just as fast. Gavin, on the other hand, was the biggest kid in the grade. He reminded Zach of Duke Nukem. You wouldn’t think a kid that brawny could be quick and agile, but when they played flag football or basketballingym,theteamwithGavinonitalways won. Gavin backed away from the urinal. He cleared his throat loudly, then gazed up at the ceiling. Inside the stall, Goofy Foot looks upward. His eyes take in an astounding sight. Stuck to the ceiling of the pissorium are a dozen dried brownish- green hanging loogies! Like a cave with mucus stalactites. His head tilted back, Gavin hocked and fired. Splat! His loogie smacked into the ceiling and stuck. But from the mid-dle, it drooped, stretching like light brown Play- Doh Slime until the bulbous end broke and fell to the floor with a plop! “Darn,” Gavin grumbled. “Maybe next time,” Ratface said. The bell rings, and Gavin and Ratface leave the bathroom. Once again alone, Goofy Foot exits the stall. But before he goes to class, he stands in the middle of the pissorium, face tilted upward. It is too tempting not to try. He hocks his own glob of slimy ammunition, aims, then fires! Alas, his mucus projectile lacks firepower. It doesn’t get half-way to the ceiling before it sputters and falls short. It plummets back down and splatters all over Goofy Foot’s face. The bell was going to ring at any moment. Ms. B had finally managed to get Principal Summers down to the computer lab