by Sally Warner
Teachers did that?
He was even wearing a suit jacket over his shirt, Alfie saw. And he’d gotten a really short haircut. Prickles of bristly hair glittered on the almost-shaved sides of his big, bony head, a head that looked like it had actual muscles on it. Was that even possible?
“Dude! We’re the All-Stars,” one boy was saying, fist-bumping another boy. “This year is gonna be awesome.”
“Our first grade class was called the Dolphins,” Alfie heard Suzette tell Hanni. “Remember? In the good old days? At least dolphins are smart.”
Suzette’s light brown hair had grown so long that it now fell over her shoulders, Alfie saw. That lucky, she thought.
“I liked being a Dolphin,” Lulu Marino agreed. But Suzette and Hanni didn’t seem to hear her speak.
“We were the Otters at my old school,” another girl said. “And they’re the cutest animals in the world! You should see them. I don’t even know what All-Stars are.”
“It’s got something to do with sports,” Alfie’s old preschool friend Arletty Jackson said. She had brown skin like Alfie, as did three other kids in their new class.
“Sports.” “Sports!” a few girls whispered to each other, alarmed. A lot of them liked sports, Alfie knew—including her. But not team sports, except soccer. Not yet.
And Mr. Havens was obviously a team sports kind of guy.
“Yeah,” Hanni said. “But ‘All-Stars’? Everybody can’t be a star,” she pointed out, her arms folding across her chest as if she was getting up the nerve to break the news to Mr. Havens. “My mom always says that somebody has to be the best,” she continued, chin up. “Or else the world doesn’t make any sense. All-Stars,” she repeated, shaking her head. “We should have gotten to vote on our class name.”
“Yeah, vote,” Suzette agreed. “And we have to sit at stupid tables,” she added. “It’s like being kindergarten babies all over again.”
“And my back is facing the teacher,” Hanni almost wailed, spotting her name tag. “I’ll have to turn around just to see him! I’m doomed. How am I gonna come in first if he never notices me?”
Not much chance of him not noticing her! But Alfie was at the same table as Hanni. Phew, she thought, relieved. So at least part of her plan was working out.
“Gross,” a boy at their table teased. “Hanni just said her back has a face on it.” Scooter Davis, Alfie remembered. He was in her first grade class last year.
“Change places with me,” Hanni said to Alfie, ignoring Scooter.
“We’re not supposed to,” Alfie said. “Mr. Havens has a chart.”
Arletty was at their table too. She had been assigned the spot at the end of the table. Scooter and a shy new boy named Alan Lewis filled the other two seats.
But at least Lulu was at the table just behind them, Alfie was happy to see. And she looked cute, too. Getting her and Hanni together for their magical group of three shouldn’t be too hard, she thought, giving Lulu a secret wave.
Not too hard for an All-Star like her!
“Listen,” Hanni was telling Arletty, who was about to sit down. “You’re sitting at the end of the table, but that doesn’t mean you’re the boss or anything. Because we haven’t decided yet. Okay?” She smiled at Arletty as if that might take the sting out of her words.
Hey, Alfie thought, frowning. That wasn’t very nice. Arletty never did anything bad to anyone, and now this? Hanni wasn’t usually so in-your-face.
“Um,” Alfie began, trying to think of what to say to Hanni, and how to say it.
“Okay,” Arletty was already assuring Hanni. The pretty beads on her braids clicked as she nodded her head.
“Anyway, who made you the queen of our table, Hanni?” Scooter Davis asked, eager to face off with the girl. A chunk of dark blond hair flopped onto his forehead.
“Mind your own business, Scooter,” Hanni told him.
“Rears in chairs, All-Stars, and name tags on your chests,” Mr. Havens said, his outdoors coach-voice cutting through the kids’ noise like a chain-saw slicing through strawberry ice cream. “You’re in ‘the bigs’ this year, second-graders. And if you haven’t found your name tags by now, we will have ourselves some problems.”
They already had some problems, Alfie thought, trying to ignore both Hanni and Scooter as she slid into her chair.
For example, these new tables were different—and weird.
And there were more boys than girls in her class.
And Lulu Marino was sitting at a different table from Hanni and her.
And Arletty Jackson looked like she was about to cry.
And Scooter and Hanni were already “butting heads,” as Alfie’s mom would say.
And Hanni Sobel—her newest friend—was acting nervous and a little mean.
Also, Hanni was mad at her for not switching seats.
And class hadn’t even started yet! Not officially.
“Welcome, All-Stars,” Mr. Havens said, beaming.
4
Icebreaker Time!
“Mr. Havens! Mr. Havens!” Hanni Sobel’s hand shot up a moment after the teacher had finished taking attendance and introducing the second-grade kids who were new to Oak Glen Primary School.
But Alfie secretly thought that all kids—even the returning students—were at least a little bit new when school started each year. She felt new, anyway.
And once she got Hanni and Lulu together, the three of them would be best friends forever. That would be new, too.
“Yes, Hanni?” Mr. Havens asked with only a quick glance at her name tag.
“What are ‘the bigs’?” Hanni asked, a frown on her face. “You said we’re in them, only I don’t know what they are. And I don’t wanna fall behind.”
“Fair question,” Mr. Havens told her, nodding. “‘The bigs’ is an expression used in professional sports. It means someone is playing in the major leagues. They’re in the big-time. Like in baseball, for instance,” he said. “Only in this case, I was using it as a way of saying that your serious education is beginning now, in second grade. That’s my opinion, anyway.”
“But what if we don’t know anything about baseball?” Hanni asked, still worried.
“You don’t need to,” Mr. Havens assured her. “But we can all learn more about each other, can’t we? And today is the perfect day to do it. Icebreaker time!”
“Icebreaker?” Lulu Marino asked without raising her hand. Her straight brown hair shone under the fluorescent lights.
“I use my hind teeth for breaking ice,” Scooter informed everyone.
“In this case, an ‘icebreaker’ is just something fun to do,” Mr. Havens explained after giving both Lulu and Scooter a look. “It’s something—like a game—that will help people get to know each other better.”
Are we gonna need a translator in this class? Alfie asked herself.
“So, gather around, everyone,” Mr. Havens was saying. “Sit in a curved line in front of my desk so we can all see one another.”
“On the bare floor? In my new clothes?” Suzette Monahan exclaimed, sounding as if Mr. Havens had just asked her to scrub the art sink in her best party dress.
“This is terrible,” Hanni murmured, shaking her head to show how sorry she was for her friend.
“You must come to school ready to work,” Mr. Havens told everyone, pointing here and there to get them settled on the floor. “This isn’t a fashion show—or a drama academy, Miss Monahan,” he added, seeing the face Suzette was making. “Sit on a piece of notebook paper if you must.”
“I will,” Suzette said, grabbing one from the container of supplies at the end of her table. She settled onto it carefully, looking like a small angry chicken about to lay an egg.
Mr. Havens perched on the front of his desk, facing the arc of second graders with a welcoming smile. He was now holding a col
orful striped beach ball that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. There was black printing on its shiny curved sides.
“Boo-ya! Think fast. Catch,” Mr. Havens said, tossing the ball to Scooter Davis.
The second-graders were startled but excited by this unexpected event. What was happening?
“Tell us who you are,” Mr. Havens said to Scooter. “And then please answer the question that your right hand is touching on the ball.”
“Okay,” Scooter said, sounding eager to take part. “My name is Scooter Davis,” Scooter said. “My real name is Stephen, only nobody calls me that unless I’m in trouble. And . . .” He looked down at his hand on the ball. “And my favorite thing to eat is caramel popcorn,” he finished, grinning.
“Thank you, Scooter,” Mr. Havens said. “Very nourishing indeed. Now, throw the ball to someone else. Gently,” he added, before Scooter could spike it hard at someone’s head, shouting, “Think fast!”
Because that was Scooter’s way. Alfie knew this from first grade experience.
“Boo-ya!”
Alfie thought the new girl holding the beach ball was probably wishing she was back at her old school right about now. “Oh,” the girl exclaimed, her cheeks turning pink as everyone looked at her. “Okay. My name is Phoebe Miller, and I don’t have any other name. Even when I’m in trouble. And my favorite color is lime green, only my mom says it looks funny on me. So I can’t wear it.”
Wow! Alfie was glad her mom didn’t say mean stuff like that to her.
“Thanks, Phoebe,” Mr. Havens said. “Did you recently move to Oak Glen?”
“Three weeks ago,” Phoebe said, nodding. “From Wickenburg, Arizona.”
“It’s pretty hot in Arizona,” Mr. Havens said. “Now, pass the ball.”
“Can I roll it?” Phoebe asked, her straight blonde hair already swinging as she prepared to do just that. Phoebe was really pretty, Alfie thought.
“Try tossing it,” Mr. Havens said. “And give us a ‘boo-ya,’ Phoebe.”
Phoebe choked out the goofy words as she threw the ball to another kid.
Meanwhile, Alfie was practicing what she was going to say when it was her turn to speak. She would tell everyone that her name was Alfie, which most of them already knew, including Mr. Havens. But she would not tell them that her real name was “Alfleta,” or that it meant “beautiful elf” in Old Saxon, a language no one had spoken for more than a thousand years.
Her romance-writing mom had come up with that one. Thanks, Mom.
And if she could manage it, Alfie promised herself, the answer to her beach ball question would include the thrilling news that she had a brand-new kitten at home named Princess! She knew she could work it in. “My favorite food is cheese, only not the stinky kind. And my brand-new kitten named Princess loves cheese, too.”
Score!
Mr. Havens cleared his throat. “We’re supposed to be listening, people, not just waiting for our own turn to talk,” he told everyone. But Alfie thought he might have been glancing at her when he said it. “Remember that advice your whole life long,” he continued. “But especially today, because there may be a little quiz before lunch about your fellow classmates, with prizes involved.”
A chorus of whispers filled the room. “A quiz?”
“Prizes?”
“What did you say your favorite color was?” Scooter asked Phoebe.
“This semester is going to be all about teamwork,” Mr. Havens continued, his booming voice quashing their excited squeaks. “Got that? Teamwork. I’ll be explaining that to your parents and guardians on Friday, at Back to School Night. But to be a good team member, you have to learn to listen, and not just flap your gums. Listen to even the quietest voice on your team.”
Another boy’s hand was in the air, and Mr. Havens called on him. “Because there is no ‘I’ in team, right, Coach?” the boy asked, as if he already knew the answer.
“That’s right, Mr. Martinez,” Mr. Havens said. “There’s just T - E - A - M. But I’m ‘Mr. Havens’ in here, Bryan,” he added. “Not Coach.”
“Okay, Coach,” Bryan said, almost saluting, he was so eager to please.
What in the world were they talking about? Alfie did not have a clue.
But she started listening better from that point on.
Because—prizes!
5
An Unexpected Problem
“That worksheet was way too easy,” Hanni said on their way out to recess the next morning, Tuesday.
It was nearly the last day of August, and it was hot, hot, hot outside—even at ten in the morning. But Mr. Havens’s second graders were eager for a break from class. They needed to move.
Hanni’s complaint about the worksheet was like a piece of pie, Alfie couldn’t help but think, picturing it as her tummy growled. Pie with some whipped cream–bragging on top.
Hanni was complicated that way. But she could also be nice, Alfie knew.
Hanni was quick to play any game of let’s-pretend that Alfie could invent.
And she was really good—better than Alfie!—at sharing her toys and dolls.
And she and Alfie had made a very cool fairy-land next to the Sobels’ fishpond.
Also, Hanni had given Alfie Princess—and helped make her some cute kitty toys.
“Yeah, but they cheated on it,” Scooter said over his shoulder. “The worksheet, I mean.”
“Who cheated? Who is ‘they’?” Suzette asked, jumping in to defend Hanni—not that Hanni needed defending. “The worksheet cheated?” she went on. “Because worksheets can’t cheat. They’re just pieces of paper. And it was a ‘Two-Syllable Word Search,’ Stephen,” she said, not giving up. “All you had to do was find the two-syllable words Mr. Havens has been teaching us, and then draw a circle around them.”
“Not really a circle,” Lulu said, chiming in. “More like a long, skinny blob.”
“But one of my right answers got marked wrong,” Scooter said, not backing down. “And it’s a real word. ‘App.’ So that’s cheating.”
“‘App’ isn’t two syllables, though, Scooter,” Alfie pointed out, careful to use the name he preferred. “I think we were supposed to circle the word ‘apple,’ not just the ‘app’ part.”
“Or blob it,” Lulu said.
“‘App’ is two syllables if you say it slow enough,” Scooter argued. “A-a-a-p-p-p-p,” he demonstrated, drawing out the word.
He was not going to give this a rest, Alfie told herself, sighing.
“It could even be three syllables, if you say it that good,” Bryan Martinez agreed, nodding. “Dude, you should have got extra credit!”
“Dumb test,” Scooter said.
It was a worksheet, not a test, Alfie wanted to remind the boys. But she had other things on her mind. It was the first week of school, and this Tuesday morning recess was the perfect time to get Hanni and Lulu together. And then their group of three would be complete—and Alfie’s first week, second grade plan would be come true, she thought, smiling.
Any later in the week and it could be too late. Second grade girls’ friendships could harden into place fast. Those friendships might be like papier mâché Alfie thought, remembering a summer craft project she’d done at Little Acorns Day Camp. And once papier mâché started to dry, you could not change things around. You could add stuff, sure. But the basic shape was just there.
And she wanted her basic shape to be a triangle: Hanni, Lulu, and her, Alfie. Leadership, cuteness, and energy. The perfect combination. The perfect team.
It was something they could only achieve together.
But Hanni, Suzette, and that new girl Phoebe were already heading toward the chain link fence behind the picnic tables, a popular girls’ hangout.
“Listen, Lulu,” Alfie said at their picnic table while they were rooting around in their snack bags, hoping
for the best. “Let’s us go hang out by the fence too, okay? With Hanni and Suzette and that new girl?”
“Her name’s Phoebe. And it’s too hot over there,” Lulu said between dainty bites of cracker. “No shade. I don’t want to get all sweaty and sunburned.”
The playground was seeming to wobble in the heat, Alfie saw, gazing across its expanse. And like Suzette, Lulu was very fussy about her clothes. About everything, to be honest. About her long, shiny hair. Her perfectly straight bangs. Lulu’s mother called her “my special darling,” they’d all been informed last year—something Alfie could not imagine her own mom saying with a straight face.
She wouldn’t mind hearing it at least once, though.
“I’ll come with you, Alfie,” Arletty piped up from the other side of the table. “I like Phoebe.”
“I like her too,” Alfie protested. “I mean, she seems okay.”
It was just that Phoebe wasn’t the point, Alfie thought.
But why not let Arletty come with them to the fence? She was pretty cool, Alfie reminded herself. Arletty was often too busy for play-dates on weekends because of church-related activities. But she could be lots of fun. And Arletty was also an old daycare friend. “Okay, sure,” she told Arletty. “But Lulu, you absolutely gotta come with us. Because—”
“Because why?” Lulu interrupted, licking cracker salt off her fingers. “My mom says I should take it easy when it’s this hot out.”
“Take it easy” had never been one of Alfie Jakes’s mottos, that was for sure! She liked to jump around too much for that. Maybe not on a shimmery-hot day like today, she admitted to herself. But her dad didn’t call her “Cricket” for nothing.
Why was she just sitting here?
You’re working on your plan, that’s why, Alfie reminded herself.
“Listen, Lulu,” she said, trying another approach. “You just have to come with us to the fence. I think Hanni has a secret she wants to tell you.”