Sticker Girl Rules the School--Stickers Included! by Janet Tashjian

Author:Janet Tashjian
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

“I hate olives,” Walter says. “They’re so fatty—get them away!”

“This is no time to be fussy,” I whisper. “Thanks to you, everyone thinks Dad’s restaurant has rats!”

“RATS?!” Walter screams. “Rats are terrible dancers! Have you ever seen a rat do an arabesque? It’s embarrassing!”

Of course Eric has to get into the act—he and my cousins Otto and Jorge race into the storage room to find the rodent that’s crashing our family party. I lean against the shelf, blocking not only Walter but Craig.

“Get out of the way, Martina,” Eric shouts.

“If there was a rat, it’s gone by now,” I say.

Otto stops in his tracks. “Are you calling my mother a liar? If she says there was a rat, there was a rat!”

I apologize to my cousin, basically so the three boys will leave. When they finally do, I shove Walter and Craig into my bag.

“There’s not enough oxygen,” Walter complains. “My muscles will tense up.”

These stickers can be so high maintenance.

“Just stay put until we eat,” I say. “Then we can go home.”

I remind myself that this party was supposed to be for me. Is it asking too much to have a little fun tonight? Especially since my best friend seems to be spending all her time with one of my stickers?

When I get back to the counter, my aunt has calmed down and the fuss is pretty much over—although Dad is still telling anyone who’ll listen that his diner does not have rats.

My abuelita raises her glass in a toast. “To Marti—may she be a fair and compassionate president.”

My grandmother obviously thinks my new post on the student council is way more important than it is, but my relatives lift their glasses anyway. We pass around platters of food; because I’m sitting next to James in his booster seat, I serve him a little from every dish.

Since I’m wedged into one of the circular booths with James and several of my cousins, checking on Walter and Craig in my bag on the floor is nearly impossible. When I can finally duck underneath the table, I find Walter sitting on the floor scooping up rice with his tiny chipmunk hands.

“Your brother is a slob. Did any of this arroz con pollo end up in his mouth?” Walter licks his tiny fingers. “I know it’s mostly carbs, but it’s delicious.”

Luckily, there’s so much commotion that no one hears Walter—except maybe Eric, who suddenly lifts up the tablecloth and looks for the diner’s nonexistent rat. I shove Walter into my bag before he has a chance to run.

“Martina, sit up,” Mom scolds from the next table. “Use your manners, presidenta.”

I smooth the tablecloth back down; she shoots me a wink that lets me know she’s not really mad.

After coffee and dessert—grilled apples with cinnamon—everyone finally makes their way home.

My abuelita takes my hand and asks me what my first act as president of the student council will be. I tell her I ran on a platform of learning outside the classroom, so I’ll be taking suggestions for our first field trip.

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