Space Station Seventh Grade by Jerry Spinelli

Author:Jerry Spinelli
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction / Humorous Stories, Juvenile Fiction / Social Issues / Adolescence, Juvenile Fiction / School & Education
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2014-07-14T16:00:00+00:00

HEARTS

“I’M ONLY GOING FOR THE FOOD,” I KEPT TELLING THEM, BUT they wouldn’t believe me. Mom kept trying not to grin, and Ham kept saying, “Of course. The food. Why else?”

Well, it was true. I was going to the Valentine’s dance because of the free food. Mainly, anyway. Richie came up with the proof. He said: “I can prove we’re goin’ just mainly for the food.”

“How?” I asked him.

“Because even if they were having a class in the gym that night, if they were serving free food, we would still go.”

There’s your proof.

So, with that out of the way, I could start concentrating on other stuff. Like Debbie Breen, and what to do about her and Valentine’s Day. I know one thing: it was time to move up from those second-grade paper hearts and “Guess Who” and “Your Secret Admirer” and “from 10-1-19-15-14.”

Things were going pretty good lately. She came the closest yet to coming to my house to see the space station. She said okay, she’d come, and she would have, except at the last minute she had a toothache and had to go to the dentist right away.

And then, when I asked if she was going to the Valentine’s dance, she said, “Sure,” and then she asked if I was going.

I was cool. I just sort of nonchalanted it and said, “I might.”

Afterward I could have killed myself. Why did I say that? If I gave her the impression I wasn’t going, maybe she would decide not to go too. She might be thinking I wasn’t interested in her anymore.

It was being afraid of the damage that blunder might cause that made me see what I had to do: get her a heart-shaped box of candy.

So I went looking for it with Peter Kim. When it comes to talking about Debbie, it’s Peter I feel comfortablest with. Richie knows me too well already. Dugan would only laugh and wisecrack. Calvin wouldn’t care. But Peter—I don’t know why—I just feel I could say almost anything to him, even embarrassing stuff, and he would take it just right.

We went to the mall. Naturally Peter’s little brother Kippy had to come along too. We looked all over: department stores, drugstores, Woolworth’s. There were all kinds: little ones, big ones, giant ones, red, purple, white, yellow, ribbons, lace, bows, cupids, flowers. I never knew there were so many kinds of hearts.

I never knew they cost so much, either. I couldn’t believe the prices. Those second-grade cards used to be about 5¢ apiece.

“Look how much they cost,” I said to Peter. “What do they cost so much for?”

“Must be good candy,” he said.

“I only got five dollars.”

“I can loan you some.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “I didn’t mean that. I just didn’t think they would be so much.”

“Must be inflation,” he said.

I said, “What’s inflation got to do with love?” It was the first time I ever remember saying that word out loud. Sure enough, Peter took it in stride.

“How about these?” he said. He was holding up a plastic bag of those little red cinnamon hearts.

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