CHAPTER 1
I arrive to school at 8:05a.m. My school starts at 8:06a.m. Mrs. Morris, my teacher, makes us wash the tables if we come to school late. I’ve already been late before, so I can’t be late again.
Nana Wilson is coming to school with me today. Mom signed her up as the Park Hill School Volunteer this year. She’ll be working in the cafeteria and library most of the time. And if she’s really nice, she’ll get to work with Mr. Peppernickle, the school principal.
“C’mon Nana, run faster!” I yell.
Nana and I race up toward the large blue double doors of the school. I drop her off in the front office and give her a hug goodbye.
“Nana,” I whisper, tugging on her brightly colored flower dress. “You might want to fix your wig. Big Birtha is leaning a little to the left.”
Nana Wilson quickly grabs Big Birtha and pushes her to the middle of her head.
“Thanks, Sugar Plum,” she says.
I wink back at Nana Wilson and run off to class.
I swing open the classroom door and skip right in.
“Good morning everybody, I’m on time!”
“Shh, Alley,” says Mrs. Morris. “Please remember to come into the classroom quietly.”
I make my way over to the coat closet and hang up my new backpack. Nana Wilson gave it to me for my 6th birthday.
I slam the closet door and head for the breakfast line.
I grab a breakfast tray and reach down into the hot breakfast bag.
“What’s this?” I yell. “a yucky egg burrito!”
Something you should know about me? I hate eggs. They make me… well, you know. And I can’t do that sort of thing at school.
It reminds me of that horrible day last month. I’ll never forget it.
I came rushing into class one morning and was starving. Mom forgot to give me breakfast. That’s ‘cause she was running late for work. She told me to eat whatever we were having in class.
The breakfast menu read: Explosive Egg Burritos. I grabbed one and rushed to my seat. I ripped off the plastic wrapper and took a bite, a HUGE bite. Before I knew it, I was gobbling down another one.
All of a sudden, my tummy started to rumble. I didn’t feel so good.
Just as I was about to stand up, it happened. I farted all over the place. Sadly to say, all the kids called me “Alley the Stink Blaster” for an entire week.
I don’t want that to ever happen again. So this time, I’m just taking an orange juice and some apple slices.
I gulp down my breakfast fast and begin working on my Story Detective work. Mrs. Morris gives us five minutes to think of two questions to ask a character from our story. We’ve been reading, The Day My Teacher Turned into An Ice Cream Sundae. Miss Mint is my favorite character. That’s ‘cause she’s named after my favorite ice cream.
After the class is done writing their questions, Mrs. Morris gives us numbers. I’m always number 1. That’s ‘cause I’m the smarter kid in the class. The rest of the kids at my table get their numbers.
She reaches into her number box and pulls out the number one.
“Callin' all 1’s, please stand up,” she orders. “Don’t forget to take your questions with you.”
“Get ready, set, go!”
I run as fast as I can to make it table two, but Sally beat me to it.
I look around and see nobody has taken table four. I click up my heels and race across the room. Marge beats me to that one.
“Really?” I scream with my hands flying over my head.
I look toward the back of the classroom and see six creeping eyes staring at me.
“Go to table three, Alley,” says Mrs. Morris gritting her witchy teeth at me.
“But that’s the ‘stinky’ boy table, Mrs. Morris,” I say, squinting my nose up.
“Move it, young lady!”
I slowly walk over to table three and slump down in the chair. If I had my way, these boys would be dragon mush.