Like Pickle Juice on a Cookie (10 page)

Later

I ate, too,

just like Pearl,

and took a bath

and washed my hair,

which Lance had cut just right,

and put on my favorite pajamas.

Then I went to my closet

and took out my white sundress

with the orange flowers on the bottom.

I hung it on my doorknob

so I would find it right away in the morning.

And it wouldn't slow me down.

That night both of my parents tucked me in.

“Such a big day tomorrow,” my dad said.

“Are you nervous?” my mom said.

“I'm okay,” I said.

But after they dimmed the lights

and left the room

I started worrying.

I worried that I'd be late for Pearl

and late for school

even though I'd put out my dress.

I worried that Mr. Campanelli wouldn't like me.

I worried that I wouldn't get to sit near Pearl.

I worried that my other friends had forgotten me.

I worried that I'd forgotten all my math.

I worried about tests and reports and homework.

I worried about my handwriting.

I worried and worried and worried

until finally I tiptoed through the dark

into my parents' room

and over to their bed,

where they were sleeping.

I tapped my mom on the shoulder.

“I can't sleep,” I whispered.

“Mmmmhhhh,” she said.

I thought I would have to tap her again.

But then she opened her eyes a little

and scooted over

and lifted up the blanket

for me to crawl in.

She put her arm over me

and I slept right there

right next to my mom

the whole rest of the night.

We were right on time for Pearl

and right on time for school.

Mr. Campanelli was at the door of the classroom,

waiting for us, smiling,

with his green-and-blue checked shirt

and his shorter hair

that was not so crazy.

And all my friends were back.

Nora had made necklaces for me and Pearl.

Katie ran up and hugged me.

Adam gave me some gum.

“Let's start the day with some drawing,”

Mr. Campanelli said.

So I sat at a table with Pearl

and Katie and Nora.

And we did some drawing.

Then Mr. Campanelli read us poems

and asked us to write poems of our own.

“Please start your poem

with the words, ‘Love Is,'”

he said.

“Think about how you know you love someone

or how you know someone loves you.

And write that down.

Ask me any questions you want.

And don't worry about this a bit.

It's our very first day, after all.

We're just getting warmed up.”

So I got paper and a pencil.

And I did some thinking.

Then I wrote my poem.

I wrote:

Soon Mr. Campanelli walked around the room

and checked our work.

“An excellent job,” he said, when he read my poem.

“But you're making me thirsty!”

He didn't say anything about my handwriting.

So I guess it was fine.

And I thought

I might like third grade.

The rest of the day went very fast.

Soon Natalie was there to pick me up.

“Here,” I said, when she came in.

“This is for you.”

I handed her one of the pictures I had drawn earlier.

A picture of flowers

in a little garden

just off a sidewalk.

“I love it,” Natalie said.

“It's perfect. Thank you.”

Then Pearl came over.

I didn't want her to say anything about Bibi.

And she didn't.

Instead she said to Natalie,

“You have the most beautiful hair

I have ever seen.”

“Goodness,” Natalie said.

She ran her hand over her ponytail.

“Thanks.”

Then Natalie smiled at Pearl

and Pearl smiled at Natalie.

And I felt happy.

Natalie and I walked Pearl and her mom to their building.

Then we headed home.

And as we turned the corner

we saw Val,

who saw us, too,

and raised her arm

and waved and waved

and shouted,

“Come quick, you two!

Run!”

So we ran.

All the way to Val.