Suddenly she heard Sherri take a deep breath.
Sherri's hand shot up in the air.
Dawn Bosco raised her hand too. So did Linda Lorca and Beast.
“Yes, young man?” Mrs. Miller asked Richard.
“What will happen to the children?” he asked. “Will they be left back? Or … ”
Mrs. Miller clicked her tongue against her teeth. “We won't get into that right now.”
Mrs. Miller looked around. “What is it?” she asked Dawn Bosco.
“Maybe they'll get sick,” Dawn said. “You can ask all the people who stay home.”
“Good idea,” Emily said. She was never absent.
“That's a ridiculous idea,” Mrs. Miller said.
Emily looked at Sherri out of the corner of her eye. Sherri was waving her arm back and forth.
“Well?” Mrs. Miller looked at Linda Lorca.
“You could call the FBI,” said Linda.
“Or the police,” said Timothy Barbiero.
Mrs. Miller rolled her eyes up to the ceiling.
“I've never heard anything so silly. The police are very busy.”
“That's good,” said Beast.
“Emily's father is a cop,” Dawn Bosco said. “Maybe he could—”
Emily shook her head fast. “He's busy. Very busy.”
“We'd better do the boardwork,” Mrs. Miller said. “We're wasting time.”
Sherri Dent stood up. “Emily's feet werewet,” she burst out. “Yesterday. Soaking wet.”
“Boardwork” said Mrs. Miller,
“It was Emily,” said Sherri. “I bet anything. I even saw her in the hall. Right near the door.”
“There must be a hundred people with wet feet,” Mrs. Miller said.
She marched back to her desk. “A hundred people in the hall too.”
“But—”Sherri began.
“Boardwork,” Mrs. Miller yelled.
Emily opened her notebook.
She began to copy the board story.
It was all about winter and catching colds.
Emily sniffed a little.
She'd hate to catch a cold now.
Everyone would know she was the one who had gone outside.
Emily looked at Sherri.
Sherri was tearing a piece of paper out of her notebook. It made a Joud ripping sound.
Mrs. Miller looked up. “What are you doing?”
Sherri ducked her head.
“Well?” asked Mrs. Miller.
“I'm writing a note,” Sherri said. “It's to Ms. Ropney.”
Beast looked back at Emily.
Emily's eyes opened wide.
She knew just what Sherri was writing.
That mean Sherri Dent.
It was time to go home.
Emily went to the coatroom.
Ms. Vincent tapped her on the arm. “Tomorrow's Valentine's Day,” she said.
Emily nodded.
Tomorrow Sherri would give the note to Ms. Rooney, she thought.
“We could make a card for Ms. Rooney,” Ms. Vincent said. “After school.”
“That would be nice.” Emily tried to smile.
Everyone was lining up.
Emily went to the science table to wait.
Maybe Ms. Rooney would send her to the office tomorrow, she thought.
The class would open the Valentine box.
She wouldn't even be there to get her cards.
She wished she could tell someone. She wished she knew what to do.
Maybe she could tell Ms. Vincent.
She looked over at Sherri.
Sherri was taking a long time to get ready.
Emily wished she'd hurry.
Mrs Miller led the line out the door.
“I'll be right back,” Ms. Vincent said. “I'm going to the art room.” She smiled at Emily.
Yes, Emily thought. She'd tell Ms. Vincent.
“It's time to go home,” she said to Sherri.
Sherri put her nose in the air. “I have to do something.”
“What?”
Sherri didn't answer.
Emily looked at Drake and Harry, the class fish. She made believe Sherri wasn't even there.
Just then Ms. Vincent came back. She had pink paper in her hand.
“Is mat for the card?” Sherri asked.
Emily looked at Sherri. “How do you know about the card?”
Sherri made a pointy face. “I'm the one who's making it. Ms. Vincent asked me.”
“I asked you both,” said Ms. Vincent. She smiled at them.
Emily leaned against the science table.
It was hard to swallow.
The whole card idea was spoiled.
And now she'd have no time to tell Ms. Vincent.
She wished Sherri Dent were a hundred miles away.
“How will we start?” asked Ms. Vincent.
Emily tried to think of something fast.
Faster than Sherri,
“I know,” Sherri said. “We could say, ‘You are a good teacher.’ “
“Good,” said Ms. Vincent. “Write that on top.”
Emily watched Sherri write across the top of the card. Her letters were big and wiggly.
“It's a little wiggly,” Sherri said. “I hope I didn't spoil it.”
Emily opened her mouth.
“Ms. Rdoney will love it,” said Ms. Vincent. “Right, Emily?”
Emily gave a little nod, Ms. Rooney would hate it, she thought.
“Your turn, Emily,” said Ms. Vincent.
Emily thought. “I can't think of anything to rhyme with teacher,” she said.
Sherri put her hand to her mouth. “I forgot it was a poem.”
Emily closed her eyes. “Feacher, meacher.”
“Beacher,” said Sherri. “Readier, leacher, skeacher.” She took a breath. “Deacher, double feature.”
Emily smiled a little. “Peacher,” she said.
Then she made believe she was coughing.
She wouldn't smile at anything Sherri said.
“We could turn the paper over,” said Ms. Vincent. “Start over.”
Sherri picked up the Magic Marker. “This time I won't say teacher.”
She wrote:
Dear Ms. Rooney. You are good.
“That will be easier,” Ms. Vincent said. Emily tried to think. “Good,” she said. “Stood. Wood.”
“Good like a piece of wood,” said Sherri,
“No good,” said Emily, Sherri started to giggle.
“Hood,” said Sherri. “Gopd like Red Riding
Hood.”
Emily looked down at the card. She thought about Ms. Rooney in a red hood.
She tried not to laugh.
Ms. Vincent stood up. “I'll get more paper.”
“fyls, Rooney in a red hood,” Emily said. “Or Mrs. Miller.”
“No. Mrs. Miller is the big bad wolf,” said Sherri. “With a big fat stomach.”
Emily tried to keep her mouth closed tight.
She had forgotten that Sherri was a funny girl sometimes.
“How come you wouldn't play with me in the yard that day?” Sherri asked suddenly.
Emily stopped laughing. “I wanted to play by myself. How come you always tell on me?”
“You told on me about the big blue book,” Sherri said.
Emily opened her eyes wide; She had forgotten about the big blue book.
“That was mean,” Sherri said.
“I guess so,” Emily said. “But what about the note to Ms. Rooney?”
“Who said I'd give the note to Ms. Rooney?” Sherri said. “I can't even find it anymore.”
Just then Ms. Vincent came back into the room. “Were you two laughing in here?”
Sherri nodded a little.
So did Emily.
-That's good,” said Ms. Vincent. “Sometimes fights start over silly things. They get worse and worse.”
“You knew we were fighting?” Emily asked.
Ms. Vince
nt smiled. “I knew if you got together, you'd work it out.”
She held up the pink paper. “This is the last piece.”
“We'd better do it right,” Emily said.
They tried to think.
“I know,” Emily said. She picked up the Magic Marker.
You teach great.
The best in the state.
She gave the Magic Marker to Sherri. “Sign ‘Guess Who.’” “Whew/’ said Msi Vincent. “Whew,” said Sherri.
Emily grinned.
“Hey,” she said. “I forgot. I have to stop at the A&P for cupcake mix.”
She dashed to the coatroom.
She grabbed her jacket.
“See you tomorrow,” she yelled.
Halfway to the A&P she thought about being outside.
She had a heavy feeling in her chest.
Ms. Rooney might still find out.
She probably would.
It was Valentine's Day.
Under her jacket Emily wore her pink party dress.
She carried a huge box in her arms.
She stopped in front of the A&P.
She wanted to wait for Beast.
First his sister, Holly crossed the street.
Then Emily saw Beast. He was running along on top of the snow piles.
He stopped when he saw her.
“What do you have?’ ‘he asked.
“Pink cupcakes,” said Emily. “Red sprinkles.”
“Too bad we couldn't eat one now,” Beast said;
“Open the edge of the box,” Emily said. “I made an extra one.”
Beast reached into the box. “Want half?”
Emily shook her head. “Yesterday I found out I'm a tattletale. Just as bad as Sherri Dent.”
“She's not so bad,” Beast said.
“No,” said Emily. “She's funny sometimes.”
Beast bit the top off the cupcake. “Let's go,” he said.
“I'm still worried,” said Emily. “Worried about being outside in the snow.”
They: crossed the street.
“I forgot all about that,” he said. He put the rest of the cupcake in his mouth.
“Maybe we should tell Ms. Rooney,” Emily said.
“I was left back once already,” Beast said.
They opened the big brown doors.
They were the first ones in the classroom.
Emily put the cupcake box on Ms. Rooney's desk.
She reached into her pocket. She put some cards into the Valentine box. It was really full now.
Beast went to his seat.
Tm going to draw a George Washington,” he said.
‘Tm sick of worrying about being outside,” Emily said.
Beast held up a crayon. “My white crayon has black things on it,” he said. “I can't draw George Washington's hair.”
Emily pointed to her cubby. “Take my white crayon.”
She went back to her seat. /
Beast bent over his paper. “George Washington never told a lie,” he said.
“That was Honest Abe,” said Emily.
“No,” said Beast. “It was George Washington too. He chopped down 3 cherry tree. Then he tattled on himself.”
“That's what we should do,” Emily said.
The door opened. It was Ms. Rooney. “Happy Valentine's Day,” she said.
Ms. Rooney pulled off one boot.
Emily looked at Beast.
He nodded. “We'did somemmglbad,” she told Ms. Rodney.
“Yes,” said Beast.
Emily took a breath. “We were the ones.”
“Which ones?” asked Ms. Rooney.
“The ones outside in the snow,” said Beast.
“Oh, yes,” said Ms. Rooney. “Mrs. Miller left me a note about that.”
Nobody said anything for a moment.
Emily could hear the kids in the hall.
“I'm not going to do stuff like that anymore/’ Emily said.
Ms. Rooney looked at Beast. “You too?”
“Me too,” he said. ‘Tm going to be like Honest Abe and George Washington;”
Ms. Rooney pulled off her other boot. “I'm glad to hear it.”
She went to her desk.
Emily sat down. She took a deep breath.
Ms. Rooney opened the box of cupcakes. “You're a good cook, Emily.”
Emily reached into her desk. One star was left.
She had to make another Valentine card.
One for Sherri Dent.
She took out a red crayon.
Here's a Valentine star.
She tried to think of a rhyme for star.
She was sick of rhyming.
She stuck the star on top and wrote Guess Who on the bottom.
Then she went to the Valentine box. She stuffed the card in.
Sherri would love it.
Emily couldn't wait for Valentine's Day to begin.
She hoped she'd get a pile of cards.
Published by Yearling, an imprint of Random House Children's Books a division of Random House, Inc., New York
Text copyright © 1985 by Patricia Reilly Giff
Illustrations copyright © 1985 by Blanche Sims
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
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eISBN: 978-0-307-54865-8
February 1985
v3.0
The Valentine Star Page 3
