Keena Ford and the Second-Grade Mix-Up (2 page)

 

 

7:00 P.M.

Every day after camp Eric and I have been working on our playhouse. Well, it’s not really a playhouse. We call it a Homework Hut. It’s a place for us to sit and work on our homework once we are in second grade. Second grade has lots of homework, so Eric and I need a pretty quiet place to work on all of it. And since we know for sure that we will be in the same class, it makes sense for us to work together. We have a big box from Mom’s new refrigerator. Eric got two old pillows that will be our seats. I have been painting the Homework Hut. We keep it on the balcony behind my apartment, and we cover it with plastic bags every night. It looks really, really cool. It is going to be so fun to do our homework in the Homework Hut. I think second grade is going to be the best year ever.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 27

8:00 P.M.

 

 

Today was the worst day EVER. Last night I forgot to put the cover on the Homework Hut. Mom called me to set the table when I was about to cover the hut. I knew she had made a pudding pie, and that is my very favorite dessert. So I didn’t want to make her mad by not setting the table right away. Then she might say, “No pudding pie for you, Keena Ford!”

So I got my pudding pie, but I ruined the Homework Hut. We had a thunder-storm and the whole thing is wet. It’s bad. Really bad. The paint dripped all down the side, and now it looks like it says “HORK HU.” But that is not even the most awful thing that happened today! Here is the MOST awful thing:

Eric and I are not going to be in the same class.

I got a letter from school today. From the SCHOOL PRINCIPAL. At first I was afraid that maybe she had found out that I was the one who got the jump rope stuck in Mr. Lemon’s DVD player by mistake.

But the letter wasn’t about Mr. Lemon’s DVD player. It was about Eric and me NOT BEING IN THE SAME CLASS for sure. Know why? Because Eric is a boy and I am a girl. That’s right. Our principal is putting boys and girls in different classes.

I hope this doesn’t mean my classroom will have a lot of pink.

Now there’s no reason to even fix up the Homework Hut.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 28

8:30 A.M.

 

 

I am watching cartoons with Brian while we are waiting for Dad to pick us up to go to Maryland. We watch two cartoons every Saturday morning. The first cartoon is about machines that fight for no reason, and the second cartoon is about funny animals on a farm. When you have to watch one stupid cartoon before you get to watch a good cartoon it is called a compromise.

 

 

6:30 P.M.

I am at Dad’s house. Brian is playing with his friend Maryland Jason. I call him Maryland Jason because Brian has another friend named Jason in DC. Brian says not to say “Maryland Jason,” because it sounds dumb, and he also says not to call it “playing,” because once you are older you just call it “hanging out.”

Since Brian went to Maryland Jason’s, that means I got to talk to Dad alone. When I told him I was going to be in a class with a bunch of girls he just smiled at me like it was funny. And I said, “It’s NOT funny! How would you like to be covered in pink and drinking paper-bag tea every day?” Then he looked at me like I was a little bit crazy. And he said maybe we should go out for coffee and talk about it.

Going out for coffee with Dad is pretty much my favorite thing ever. For one thing, I get to order for myself. I always order a “decaf with skim milk, hold the coffee.” When you say “hold” something, it means “Do NOT put that on my food.” Like if you think spinach is nasty, you say, “Hold the spinach.” And then you don’t get nasty spinach on your plate. This only works when you go out to eat, though. It doesn’t work on moms or dads. They will never, ever hold the spinach.

Anyway, I know that when I order a “decaf with skim milk, hold the coffee,” that means I’m not really drinking coffee. I am just drinking milk. But the coffee shop smells like coffee, and I get to drink out of a coffee mug. So I feel like a real grown-up.

Dad and I like to have grown-up talks at the coffee shop. Sometimes we talk about how it can be a little bit hard for me to live in two different places. Sometimes we talk about how I will try to stay out of trouble so my teacher stops calling my dad’s cell phone and using up his daytime minutes.

Today we were talking about how SUPER-SAD I was that Eric and I weren’t going to be in the same class. And how I was going to be in a class with all girls. Not that I have a problem with girls—after all, I am a girl, right?—but I don’t like to wear skirts very much. Or play with dolls. I used to play with them sometimes, you know, when I was really bored, but Brian would make fun of me. So now when I am really bored I just play tic-tac-toe against myself.

There is another teeny-tiny reason why I don’t want to be in a class with all girls. If all of the second-grade girls are in one class, it means that Linny Berry will be in my class for sure. And we don’t exactly get along. I think it started when I might have taken her green crayon. Linny got mad, and she didn’t invite me to her birthday party. It was on a Saturday, and she invited all the other girls in our first-grade class. So on Monday they all came to school wearing these necklaces they got at Linny’s birthday party. And I felt really bad that I didn’t have one.

So I called her a bad, awful, horrible name. I called her the bad name three times in a row. That’s how mad I was about that stupid necklace. And Linny started to cry. The teacher called my mom but she was in a meeting, so then the teacher called my dad and used up some more of his daytime minutes. Linny whispered that she hated me, but the teacher didn’t hear. Then I got sent to Mr. Lemon, the time-out teacher, and we had that little mix-up with the jump rope.

And that is why I can’t be in the same class as Linny Berry.

While I was thinking about Linny Berry, Dad asked, “Remember when you and Eric didn’t speak for three days last year?”

I said I remembered. We got in a great big fight because . . . well, I can’t remember why. I remember being really mad, though. “I can’t remember why we were fighting,” I admitted.

“It was probably because you were spending too much time together,” Dad said. “Sometimes if you spend all of your time with one person, you start to fight about silly things. So maybe if you and Eric are in different classes, you’ll be even better friends.”

“Kind of like how you and Mom don’t yell at each other now that you live in Maryland?” I asked.

Dad gave a tiny nod. Then he smiled, but he looked a little bit sad too. Then he said we should probably go home. So I drank the rest of my milk really fast. And I wiped off my milk mustache without having to be told.

MONDAY, AUGUST 30

 

 

Tomorrow is the first day of school! Mom, Brian, and I went shopping today. I had to get new uniforms. Our school uniform is green pants or a green skirt with a white button-down shirt. The good thing about uniforms is that you can get an award for wearing your uniform every day, even if you don’t get any other awards like “Good Citizen” or “Most Improved.” I also got a cool belt that sparkles. And I got TWO pairs of shoes! Brian and Mom got in a fight because he wanted shoes that cost one hundred dollars. Mom said, “Forget it.”

I said, “I am not complaining about my new things, Mommy. I am just so happy to be shopping with you.” And I gave her a big smile. She said, “Well, at least someone is grateful for their new clothes.” Then Brian called me a mean name.

I got so excited about my new belt and shoes that I almost forgot about Linny Berry and my all-girl class. Almost.

It is taking me a long time to fall asleep. I started thinking again about how I was not going to be in the same class as Eric. I have decided that I will probably hate second grade.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 31

10:30 A.M.

 

 

I LOVE second grade!!!!!!

There’s some pink in our classroom, but there are other colors too. Our classroom looks really cool. We have four computers where we can play math and reading games. We have beanbag chairs where we can sit and read books. The beanbags are my second-favorite thing about my new class because I need a soft place to sit when I read. Reading at my desk makes my elbows hurt.

My first-favorite thing about second grade is my TEACHER. Her name is Ms. Campbell, and she is wearing a blue shirt and a COOL BELT WITH SPARKLES. Just like mine!! She let us pick our own seats. I sat far, far away from Linny Berry. And Ms. Campbell didn’t read us a long list of boring rules. She said WE get to write the rules for our classroom!

Ms. Campbell is so cool.

This morning she told us that every morning after we read together, we are going to sit down quietly and write in our journals. Then she gave each of us a notebook that said “Journal” on the cover.

I raised my hand.

“Yes, Keena?” Ms. Campbell said.

“Ummm . . . this is a very nice journal you have given me, Ms. Campbell, but I already have a journal,” I told her. “Can I write in that one instead?”

I pressed my lips together and waited for her to say that it wouldn’t be fair for me to use a different journal than everyone else. But she didn’t! She said . . .

“Sure, Keena, that would be fine.”

I LOVE second grade!!

7:30 P.M.

Eric came over after school today, and we talked about our new classes. Actually, I did most of the talking. I told him about how Ms. Campbell is going to let us make the rules and how she let me use my very own journal even though it wasn’t like the journals that the other girls had. I told him about everything we did. Then I asked, “How was the boy class?”

Eric looked like he was thinking for a minute. I let him do his thinking. I didn’t say, “Hello!!! I asked you a question!” because Mr. Lemon said that is a rude thing to say. Then Eric said, “My class was really fun too. It was as fun as your class. Maybe even more fun. Ms. Hanson lets us chew gum in class. And she said we can do all of our work with a pen.”