by Chudney Ross
Carla rolled her eyes and said, “So do we, Bean.”
I looked around for another partner. Aisha and Gabrielle were already sitting together by the window. Joshua and John were on the floor in the back. Renee and a new girl were huddled in the library corner. It looked like everyone already had a partner. But then I spotted Jerry sitting alone.
“Jerry! Jerry!” I yelled as I ran toward him, waving my arms in the air to get his attention.
“Sorry, Bean. I’m already partners with Mark,” he said before I even reached his desk.
“Mark? Who is Mark?” I said frantically. “I don’t see a Mark.”
“He’s new and he’s in the bathroom.”
I started to panic. Stinky Stanley was looking at me with puppy-dog eyes from the back of the room. It was nice of him to give me his seat and all, but I didn’t want to be his partner now. I wasn’t sure I could stand the smell.
Next, I spotted Terrible Tanisha. She obviously didn’t have a partner yet because she is m-e-a-n MEAN! I flipped my eyes back and forth. Stanley or Tanisha? Tanisha or Stanley? What kind of choice is that?
I grabbed my notebook and quickly headed over to Stanley, held my breath, and mouthed the words, Wanna be my partner?
He nodded his head yes a million times.
When Ms. Sullivan saw that Tanisha was all alone, she forced Aisha and Gabrielle to work with her as a threesome. I could tell they were not happy about it at all.
I was not excited to be partners with Stanley either, but at least he was better than Terrible Tanisha.
“Here are some questions to get you started,” Ms. Sullivan said as she wrote on the chalkboard.
Name and birthday
Does your partner have brothers and sisters?
What did your partner do for summer vacation?
Favorite color, food, sport
What does your partner want to be when he/she grows up?
“But feel free to ask and explore whatever seems interesting about your partner. You have the next fifteen minutes to interview each other,” Ms. Sullivan said. “I’ll be coming around to see if you need any help.”
I pulled my chair up to Stanley’s, but not too close. He smelled like tuna fish mixed with pickle juice and spinach that had sat in the sun on a superhot day. Eww.
I cleared my throat and tried to sit up straight like one of those interviewers on TV.
“Let’s get started. Stanley, when is your birthday?”
“January nineteenth. When is yours?”
“No. I ask the questions,” I told him. “You go after.”
“Sorry,” he said, and I got back to the interview.
I imagined the TV studio lights shining down on us as we sat on the sofa of my very own TV show, called Bean Time!
“Hello, Stanley,” I started. “Thank you so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to give us this exclusive interview.”
“What does exclusive mean?” Stanley asked. He looked back at me blankly, but I just continued because this was my TV show. “Tell me about your family. Do you have a mom and a dad?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“Any brothers or sisters?”
“Nope,” said Stanley with a shake of his head.
“Really? No fair! I have two and they are so annoying,” I said as I made a note in my notebook. Then I continued, “How was your summer vacation?”
“Good.”
Ms. Sullivan walked by just then, and said, “Stanley, try to answer with more than one word.”
I was a little annoyed that she was interrupting my TV show, but I let it go because she’s the boss of the classroom, you know.
“My summer was good,” Stanley said. Then he added, “I went to Disneyland and—”
“Awesome,” I interrupted. “What else?”
“I went to my grandma’s house.”
“Me too!” I shouted.
“Did you have fun?” Stanley asked.
“I told you not to ask questions,” I reminded him. “What’s your favorite color and food and sport?”
“Well, I guess my favorite color is green.”
“Ugh!” I scrunched up my nose. “I hate green.”
“I also like blue.”
“That’s better,” I said, and made some more notes in my notebook.
“And I like carrots and pretzels and ice cream,” Stanley continued.
“Yuck, double yuck . . . and yummy,” I responded. “And?”
“And what?” he asked.
“What’s your favorite sport?” I said, without even checking the board.
“I don’t really play sports.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“You don’t?”
“Nope. Not really, but I can play the saxophone. I want to be a famous musician when I grow up.”
The saxophone is a cool instrument. I listened to a supergood guy named John Coltrane play the saxophone on one of Dad’s CDs. I couldn’t imagine Stanley ever being as cool as him.
“Okay. Time to switch interviewers,” Ms. Sullivan called from the front of the room.
“Umm . . . ,” Stanley mumbled, and peeked at the questions on the chalkboard. “What is your—”
“Hold it!” I said, stopping him. I already knew all the questions, so I gave him all the info at once. “My name is Bean Gibson. I am eight and a quarter and my birthday is June fifth. I have a mom and dad and two annoying sisters. Well, Rose isn’t terrible, but you know. I had a superfun summer because, while my sisters where at sleepaway camp, I got to go to my grand mommy’s house and spend the whole summer playing with Tanya. She’s my cousin, but she is also my best friend . . . now. My favorite color is blue. I h-a-t-e HATE the color green. My favorite foods are blue raspberry Slurpees and Cheetos and pasta. I hate pickles and tuna. I like running fast and riding my bike.”
Stanley’s pen was scribbling a zillion miles a minute. I stopped so he could catch up.
“Did you get all that?” I asked.
“Almost.”
“Well, how much did you get?”
“Um . . . your name and your birthday.”
“Good grief,” I said, and then I repeated everything again, real slow.
“Um, Bean? Can I at least ask one of the questions?”
“Fine. What’s left?”
“Um. What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“Hmm . . . I don’t really know. Maybe a fireman . . . I mean firewoman. Maybe a nurse, like my mom. Maybe an astronaut.”
“Okay, time’s up. Everyone back to your seats,” Ms. Sullivan called from the front of the room.
Chapter 3
If You Don’t Have Something Nice to Say . . .
“Who would like to share first?” Ms. Sullivan asked the class.
Everyone’s hands shot up. Of course she chose Carla and Sam because they were sitting right up front. No fair!
Sam started. “This is Carla. Her birthday is December twenty-second. She has a mom and an older sister. This summer, she went to visit her grandparents in Mexico, but she spent most of the summer here with me. We rode bikes and went to the swimming pool and made a secret club.”
I sank down deep into my chair and tried not to listen.
“Her favorite color is green and her favorite foods are spaghetti and green apple Slurpees.”
I couldn’t help it. My mouth opened and out flew, “No, it’s not!”
“Yes, it is . . . now!” Carla shouted back.
“Bean, please stay quiet till it’s your turn,” Ms. Sullivan said.
“When she grows up, Carla wants to be a teacher,” said Sam, finishing up.
Everyone clapped, except for me, of course. Instead, I put my hands over my face to stop my mouth from letting everyone know that Carla really wants to be a nurse when she grows up, just like my mom.
“Carla, your turn to tell us about Sam,” Ms. Sullivan said.
“This is Sam and she’s my best friend,” Carla said.
I covered my ears wit
h my hands so I wouldn’t have to hear the rest. Carla and Sam giggled and danced around in the front of the room for what seemed like forever. Aisha, Gabrielle, and Tanisha went next, but I couldn’t even listen because I was too upset. Mark and Jerry went after them.
And then it was our turn. Me and Stanley walked up to the front of the room.
“You go first,” I told Stanley. He looked nervous, so I gave him a little shove.
“This is Bean. Her birthday is June fifth.” As he spoke, I put my hands over my head and spun around so everyone could get a good look at me.
“Her favorite color is blue. She hates green. Her favorite food is blue raspberry Slurpees. She hates pickles.”
“And tuna,” I said as I scrunched up my nose and stuck out my tongue for extra effect.
“She has a mom and a dad and two sisters. She had a great summer at her grandmother’s house playing with her cousin, I mean, best friend, Tanya.”
I turned to see Carla’s reaction, but she wasn’t even looking at me. She was passing a folded-up note to Sam.
“And when I grow up, I’m going to have my own TV show,” I added and took a bow, followed by a curtsy.
Everyone clapped, even Carla, but I could tell she didn’t mean it.
“Hello, everyone,” I said in my best TV-show-host voice. “This is Stanley. His birthday is in January. He’s lucky because he doesn’t have any brothers or sisters. He’s even luckier because he went to Disneyland this summer. Also, he can play the saxophone, which is a supercool instrument.”
“Bean and Stanley sittin’ in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” Sam sang under her breath. I knew Ms. Sullivan couldn’t hear from the back of the room, where she was watching the presentations.
Carla laughed, and so did the other kids sitting around them. My cheeks turned beet red and I wanted to run out of the room. I didn’t want everyone to think I liked Stanley, so I said, “He smells like rotten tuna fish, so don’t get too close.” I pretended to gag and I held my nose. Everyone laughed, and I walked back to my seat, leaving Stanley alone and sad in the front of the room.
“Bean, that was not nice,” Ms. Sullivan bellowed as she marched toward me. “I think you owe Stanley an apology.”
She was glaring down at me like an ogre, so I had no other choice but to do what she said.
“Sorry, Stanley,” I said without even turning around. I felt bad that I had hurt his feelings, but I had no other choice, you know.
“If you don’t have something nice to say, then don’t say anything at all,” Ms. Sullivan told me sternly.
When the presentations were all done, Ms. Sullivan went over the class rules. The last one was “Treat everyone with respect.” I thought that one was probably especially for me.
The rest of the day was pretty terrible. I sat alone at lunch and ate my peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, which had gotten all smushed when I sat on my backpack by accident. And during recess, I didn’t have anyone to play with, so I threw rocks at the fence, which was no fun at all.
After recess, we marched back to the classroom and the bad day just kept getting worse. I usually l-o-v-e LOVE reading, but this time I couldn’t follow along. Carla and I always used to trace the lines of the book with our fingers. But now I had to share a book with goody-two-shoes Gabrielle, and every time I traced the lines, she kept swatting my finger away like a fly. Then, in math, which is usually easy-peasy, my numbers kept getting all jumbled up because Carla was whispering and passing notes to Sam.
Brrrrr-i-ing! The bell finally rang. I jumped right up out of my seat and was the first one to the door. It took forever to get everyone lined up, but finally we made it out of the room, down the hall, and out to the playground.
I waved good-bye to Ms. Sullivan with a smile, but then I spotted Carla and Sam skipping toward the gate. Carla always used to walk home with me and my sisters.
I stood slumped over in the middle of the playground, remembering all the fun me and Carla used to have after school. I snapped back to the real world when Rose found me and asked, “So, how was the first day?”
“Bad.”
Before I could explain why, Rose spotted Gardenia coming out of the building and yanked me in her direction.
We headed out on Coliseum Street, and when we hit Twenty-fifth Street, I raced ahead. I wanted to get to the computer first, so I could email Tanya. Without thinking, I jumped off the curb into the street.
“Bean, get over here. You know you can’t cross the street alone,” Rose said as she caught up to me.
Gardenia’s lucky and can cross the street all by herself. She looked both ways, crossed, and passed me and Rose right by. Now there was no way I was going to get to the computer first.
When I spotted the house, I ran as fast as I could, but I was still behind Gardenia when we burst through the back door.
“Whoa, there, ladies,” Dad said, startled. “Slow down. I want to hear about your first day.”
“It was good,” Gardenia said. Then she headed straight to the snack drawer and grabbed the last fruit roll-up.
“I’ll tell you all about it later, Dad!” Rose yelled over her shoulder as she headed straight upstairs. “I gotta use the bathroom!”
“How about you, Bean?” asked Dad.
“Oh, fine . . . super . . . fantastic,” I said, giving Dad a fake smile.
I couldn’t believe my luck. The computer was still free. I threw my backpack on the floor and plopped myself down.
You’ve got mail, the computer said.
I scanned the mail and it was all junk, so I opened up a new message box and typed in Tanya’s email address. Rose walked by to go play outside, while I sat and thought about what to say. Then my fingers started typing.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Hows it goin?
Hey Tanya--
3rd grade is bad. My girl Carla has a new best frend and now I got no one 2 play with.
I miss u soooo much! Wish u went 2 the same skool as me.
How r u?
Bean :-)
“Dad, Bean’s hogging the computer again!” Gardenia glared as she pushed through the door from the kitchen. “She’s taking forever.”
“Am not!”
“Bean, give Gardenia a turn on the computer,” Dad said, taking her side, of course. “I want to have a little chat with you anyway.”
I followed Dad into the kitchen and plopped down at the table.
“Well, honey, now that you are a big third grader,” he said as he sat down next to me, “it’s time to start taking piano lessons.”
“But I don’t want to play the piano,” I protested.
“Why not?”
“Because Rose plays the piano.”
And Rose plays the piano really well. She can play Mozart and Beethoven and even some songs you hear on the radio. Gardenia plays the flute, and when she plays, she sounds like a songbird.
“You’ll be great.”
“But Rose said my fingers are too short and nubby.”
“She was just teasing you. Your fingers are perfect,” said Dad as he tapped my hand with his. “And your sister plays so well because she takes lessons and practices. Like I always say—”
“I know. I know,” I said. I’d heard Dad say it a million times. “Practice makes perfect. But I still don’t want to play the piano.”
“Bean, it’s time to start taking music lessons, so it’s either the piano or another instrument, but you have to choose one ASAP.”
“Fine,” I said. I crossed my arms.
“What’s going on with you, Bean?” Dad put his arm around my shoulder. “You don’t seem like your happy self.”
And I didn’t feel like my happy self, either. I let out a loud sigh and dropped my head to the cool table.
“What’s up? You can talk to me.”
“Carla has a new best friend. I don’t think Ms. Sullivan likes me, and now I have to play an instrument.” Tears started filling up
my eyes. “Third grade is terrible.”
Dad snuggled me in close to him. “It’s just the first day of school. And you know what? Music always makes me feel better when I am feeling blue.”
I hoped he was right, but for now my mind was spinning with Carla and Ms. Sullivan and musical instruments. It all made me feel dizzy and sick, so I went outside to get some fresh air.
Rose and her friend Gina were playing hopscotch on the driveway. They’d drawn the squares with pretty pink and purple chalk.
“Can I play?” I called out.
“We’ve already started, Bean. Sorry,” Rose said as she threw the stone to the number 6 and hopped, jumped, hopped, jumped all the way to it.
Gardenia burst out of the door and shoved right past me. I glared at her as she joined Rose and Gina—who immediately let her play with them. I decided I didn’t even want to play with my stupid-head sisters anyway.
Chapter 4
One Is Silver and the Other’s Gold
You’ve got mail, the computer said.
I clicked on the mailbox and yes! There was an email from Tanya.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Hows it goin?
Hey Bean,
Miss u 2. Sorry u had a bad day. Mine was great. My teacher is so nice. GTG cause my friend Donna is over.
TTYL!
T
Tanya had a friend to play with and I was all alone.
I heard Mom come in the back door.
“Hey, honey,” said Dad.
“I’m exhausted.” Mom sighed.
“Go relax. I’ll get started on dinner.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” she said. “I know you have lessons tonight. I’m on dinner.”
“Thanks. I’ll put the water on to boil for the spaghetti while you change.”
Mom came into the living room and took off her jacket. She was wearing blue scrubs, which kinda look like pajamas. She wears them every day to work at the hospital. They look so comfy, and she is so lucky that she never has to worry about what to wear or if it’s gonna match.
“Hey, there, Bean. What are you doing?” asked Mom.
“Just checking my email.”
