Pictures of Me by Marilee Haynes

Author:Marilee Haynes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pauline Books and Media
Published: 2016-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

word #993

ambush

a sudden and unexpected attack from a concealed position

Right after the morning bell, Mr. Summer sits on the edge of his desk to talk to us—but not about math. “It’s been a great year and I’m proud of each of you. I’m going to miss you. But, we have some things planned for next week that I hope will give each of you a great send off.” Mr. Summer likes talking about feelings and he talks a lot about making memories, kinda like my mom. I don’t have any proof, but I suspect he’s also a scrapbooker.

“So, next week we’ll be participating in field day with the rest of the school,” Mr. Summer says.

Oh great, field day. It’s like torture. We have to play a bunch of games like balloon toss, three-legged race, dodge ball and kickball. For those of us who are not jocks or tomboys or even especially coordinated, it’s not half as much fun as the teachers think it is.

“We’ll also have our Fifth Farewell project presentations so don’t forget to sign up for your slot,” he says.

Hmm. Maybe if I just don’t sign up, then I won’t have to stand up in front of the class and faint, or throw up, or worse. It could work. I wonder if Mr. Summer will notice.

“I have a surprise for all of you. I had some parents come to me and ask if they could plan a class party, a dance actually.” Mr. Summer looks kind of confused or maybe surprised.

Groans come from every boy in the room. Trevor says, “Why would we want a dance? Do we have to go?”

“Yes, Trevor. We’ll all be going. It’s a class celebration. You’ll have a good time,” says Mr. Summer. More groans. “There will be snacks.” Now there’s some laughter. “Two of our class moms have been nice enough to plan this for all of you. So, let’s remember to thank Mrs. Marinelli and Mrs. Kim.”

Mrs. Marinelli and Mrs. Kim are Madison and Addison’s moms. This dance cannot be a good thing. Taylor stretches her leg across the aisle and kicks mine. She agrees.

The rest of the morning is like any other day: hand in homework, take notes, ace a vocabulary quiz. Meaning there’s nothing interesting enough to keep questions from bouncing around in my brain. Why are we having a dance? Will anyone ask me to dance? Do I want anyone to ask me to dance? Will Sam ask me to dance?

Taylor and I rush through lunch and head for a quiet spot on the playground, far enough away from everyone else to not be overheard. Jenna and Abby are right behind us.

“Hey, do you guys know anything about this dance?” asks Abby. “I thought dances didn’t start until middle school. And that’s not until next year.” Abby looks like she’s inches away from total panic.

“What I want to know is why Madison and Addison’s moms are planning it and what does that mean?” says Taylor.

“Taylor’s right. That’s the part that’s worrying me,” I say.

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