Muffled by Jennifer Gennari

Author:Jennifer Gennari
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 2020-10-27T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

I walk into room twelve and take a deep breath. Today I will go all day unmuffled.

I thought about my “purple” ears all weekend. At home, without earmuffs, my hair felt light on my head. I liked the sound of “A Song of Peace” when I practiced it. My ears didn’t get hot when I did my homework. By Sunday night, I decided I’d make today a no earmuffs day. I wouldn’t do it for Mom. Or Dad. Or Mr. Skerritt. I’d do it for me—to hear trombone notes. To catch what Jax tosses my way. To be open to Madge’s compliments.

I slide my earmuffs off, zip them into my backpack, and remember Melba and Raymie and being brave.

I sit at my desk and wait for the first bell. I have a plan. When it rings, I hold my book over my head like a tent, with the pages over my ears.

“Hi,” I say to Madge when she plops into her chair next to mine. I slide the book off and put it on my desk.

Madge looks at my head. “Did you forget your earmuffs?”

“Yeah, where are your earmuffs?” Deb-and-Kiki ask at the same time.

Before I need to answer, Mr. Fabian swoops in. “Find a book to read,” he says to the class, and I send him a grateful glance.

It still is un-silent reading, though. I try to concentrate. My head feels extra light. I rearrange my hair over my ears. I look at the words in my book, but I can’t stop hearing pages turning, feet moving, noses sniffling.

I glance at my backpack in the cubby. The urge to get my earmuffs is like a mosquito bite I want to itch. Instead I cross my legs. I finger my pretty ears. I want people to notice me, not purple fluff.

Math is next. We work on multiplying and adding long expressions.

“Here’s my long expression,” Jax says, and pulls his chin down and his eyebrows up. Everyone laughs. I have to admit, he’s pretty funny.

Mr. Fabian gets us back on track. For a while Dad’s counting concentration trick works. There are twenty- one chairs with four legs each, which equals—

“Amelia?”

“Eighty-four!” I say.

Mr. Fabian is puzzled. “Try again. What is two hundred divided by four?”

“It’s fifty,” Deb says. Noah gives her a high five.

The slapping sound makes me flinch. I was concentrating. Just on the wrong thing. I hide my face, retracing each letter of my name on the top of my page until the letters are dark.

“It’s okay,” Madge says, smiling at me. “You’ll get it right next time.”

I nod, but I know I never would have made that mistake if I’d had my earmuffs on.

When the bell sounds after social studies, I scrunch my shoulders up and press one ear into my shirt. Everyone breaks into conversation, sneakers squeaking into the hall. My ears feel bruised.

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