“I think that’s okay,” I said, though I really wasn’t sure how I felt.
CHAPTER 9
Biscuits &
Other Things
The next day was Tuesday. Since I wasn’t really sick, I had to go to school. Zoey’s mom drove us. We got there on time. I sat down at my desk, which is in between the wall and a boy named Spencer. I didn’t talk to Evie until it was snack time.
Mom always packs the same snack for me—apple slices and a little piece of candy. Usually it’s something from the Penny Candy Wall, but today it was a sliver of Stella’s Fudge, which was named after me.
I ate the apples first and then I opened my lunch box to put the apple slices away and get the fudge. The reason it was just a sliver and not a bigger piece is that Mom packed me dessert too, for when we had lunch. It was two cookies. She’d made them the night before, when Penny and I were at Batts Confections.
“Pardon,” a voice said. I knew it was Evie before I even looked up, because she was the only third grader I’d ever heard use that word.
“Yeah?”
“Are you contagious?” she asked.
“What?” I asked.
“Can we catch whatever you have? Is that why you’re staying at your desk instead of coming to talk to us?”
“No, I’m all better,” I said.
“That’s good,” she said.
I shut the lid of my lunch box. “Wait,” Evie said. “Can I have a biscuit?”
“I don’t have any biscuits,” I said.
“You don’t have to lie about it,” she said.
“I’m not lying,” I said.
There was a knock on the door. I turned to see Mrs. Blank coming into the room again. “Evie,” Mrs. Finkel called. “Do you mind coming over so we can talk about the schedule?”
“Oh, bother,” Evie said. Which I guess is the London way of saying, Yes, I do mind. But she had to go, because you can’t say that to a teacher.
I popped the fudge into my mouth and sucked on it instead of chewing, so it would last longer. I wondered what subject Evie had to go to learning lab for. It made me feel just the eensy weensiest bit bad for her. If I were the new kid, I wouldn’t want everyone thinking I wasn’t smart enough and I had to go to the learning lab.
When Mrs. Blank left, Mrs. Finkel clapped her hands. Kids raced around to get back to their desks, but I was already at mine. I clasped my hands together and lifted my arms up over my head. Then I turned my palms upside-down so my knuckles would crack.
“Is anyone done eating?” Mrs. Finkel asked.
I raised my hand. Down the row, I saw Evie raising her hand, too.
“Mrs. Blank left her planner behind, so I need a volunteer to take it back to her room.”
Behind me I heard Joshua saying, “Oooh, oooh, oooh,” which is the sound he makes when he’s waving his hand around.
“Yes, Joshua?” Mrs. Finkel asked.
Joshua said something that sounded like, “Whoomp whoomp whoomp.”
“It looks like you just stuffed the rest of your snack into your mouth,” Mrs. Finkel said. “It’s hard to understand you.”
“I said I’ll take it,” Joshua said.
“I saw Stella’s hand first.”
Joshua slammed his hand down on his desk, which is what he does when he’s upset about something. “That’s enough, Joshua,” Mrs. Finkel said. “Stella, will you take the planner for me?”
“Sure,” I said. It’s cool to run errands for your teacher.
“And Evie, was that a hand up saying you were done?”
Evie nodded.
“All right, Stella, take Evie with you, so she can see Mrs. Blank’s office.”
I guess that sort of made me Evie’s buddy. The thing is, I didn’t want that job anymore. But I said okay, because you can’t say no to a teacher, either.
Mrs. Finkel handed me the planner and Evie and I walked out to the hall. “I already finished my snack because I forgot to bring one,” she told me. “We didn’t have snack time at my old school. That’s why I asked for a biscuit.”
“I really didn’t have any,” I said.
“But I saw them,” she insisted. “If you sit next to me at lunch today, I’ll prove it to you.”
“Don’t you have other people to sit with?” I asked.
“You just want me to sit with other people because you have the biscuits and you don’t want me to see.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “You picked other people to sit with yesterday, so I thought you wouldn’t want to sit with me.”
“That’s because I didn’t know those kids and I already knew you. When we first moved here, I didn’t want to make new friends because I missed my old ones so much. But then I met you, and you were really nice, so I wanted to meet more people. Now I know everyone, and I’d like to sit with you. If that’s okay.”
“Yeah, that’s okay,” I said. I smiled, just the eensy weensiest little bit. Now she knew everyone–and she was picking me.
We got to the learning lab. I gave Mrs. Blank her planner back. “Thanks,” she said. “Au revoir, Evie. À lundi.”
“Au revoir,” Evie said.
I happen to know that “au revoir” is French for “goodbye,” because once on Superstar Sam, Sam had a gymnastics meet in France. But I didn’t know the other words.
“What did Mrs. Blank say to you?” I asked, once Evie and I were back in the hallway.
“That she’d see me on Monday. I’m starting French lessons in the learning lab.”
“But we don’t have language classes until fourth grade,” I said. Fourth grade is still a year away. Then we get to pick French or Spanish.
“I know,” Evie said. “But we already started French at my old school in London. My parents don’t want me to skip a year.”
“Oh that’s cool,” I said. “I wish I could learn French now.”
“I’ll teach you some if you want.”
“How do you say, ‘See you at lunch’?”
“Je te verrai à midi,” Evie said.
I tried to repeat it, but I don’t think it sounded quite right.
We got back to our classroom. Mrs. Finkel had already started our social studies lesson, so Evie and I went straight to our desks.
An hour and a half later, it was lunchtime. Evie sat in the seat next to me and I opened up my lunch box. “You see,” I said. “All I have is a turkey-and-cheese sandwich, a juice box, and—”
“And biscuits!” she said.
“Those aren’t biscuits,” I said. “Those are chocolate-chip cookies.”
“That’s not what we call them in London,” Evie said.
All of a sudden I thought of something. “Last week, when I saw you outside Man’s Best Friend and you were going to eat at Brody’s Grill, you said you wanted a ‘plate of chips,’ but you didn’t really mean chips, did you?”
“They’re called something else in America,” Evie said. “I can’t remember the name. But they’re made of potatoes and they’re long and skinny. You get them with burgers.”
“Oh, you mean French fries!” I said.
“That’s it,” Evie said.
“I have an idea,” I said. “I’ll teach you the American words for things, and you can teach me French.”
“Yeah,” Evie said. “And I can teach you British words too.”
“But then you’re teaching me two and I’m only teaching you one,” I said.
“I don’t mind,” Evie said.
She held out her hand. We shook to make it official.
CHAPTER 10
Best Friends
Dad was there when Evie and I walked out of school at the end of the day, since it was his turn to do carpool. Penny and Zoey were with him. They’re in kindergarten, and they get out a few minutes earlier.
Evie’s mom was standing with Dad too, and you’ll never guess who she was holding in her arms. Malty!
“Surprise!” Mrs. King said.
“It’s Malty!” Penny shr
ieked.
“Bella!” Evie said, reaching for her.
“You see,” Dad told me. “I told you she’d end up in a good home.”
“How did you know if they just got her today?”
“Actually,” Mrs. King said, “I got her on Saturday morning, right when I ran into your dad at the shopping center. But I didn’t want to bring her home until we’d unpacked. The house was too messy to be safe for a puppy. It’s still a bit messier than I’d like.”
“You should’ve seen the mess the puppy made at our house!” Penny said.
“Not really,” I said quickly. “Malty isn’t a bad dog. We were just pretending.”
“Why do you keep calling her Malty?” Evie asked.
“That’s what Stella named her,” Penny said.
“We played with her at Man’s Best Friend last week,” I explained. ”It’s because she’s a Maltese. And also because I like the malted candies–you know, like Maltesers and malt balls.”
“That can be her middle name,” Evie said. “Bella Malty. What do you think?”
“I think it’s really good,” I said.
“Mom, can Stella come over today?” Evie asked.
“That’s up to Stella,” Mrs. King said. “And Stella’s dad.”
“Please, Dad?” I asked.
“Sure,” Dad said. “But I told Willa’s mom that you’d call Willa back when I picked you up, so why don’t you come for a ride with me, and I’ll bring you to Evie’s after I drop Penny and Zoey.”
Then we got into the car and Dad handed me his cell phone. My stomach felt jumpy all over again. I dialed Willa’s number. The phone started ringing and Mrs. Getter answered. “This is Stella Batts,” I said.
“Hold on a sec, Stel,” Mrs. Getter said. “Let me get Willa.”
THUMP THUMP THUMP went my heart. What if she said “I don’t want to talk to her” again?
But then I heard a voice say “Hi Stella”—and it was Willa’s voice!
“Hi,” I said. My voice came out way softer than it usually sounds. It was more like Arielle’s voice. So then I said, “It’s Stella.” That way Willa would know for sure.
“I’ve been waiting for you to call,” she said.
“I called the other day, but you said you didn’t want to talk to me,” I told her.
“How did you know I said that?”
“I heard you through the phone,” I told her.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked.
“I wasn’t mad,” I said.
“Just sad. I thought you didn’t want to be my best friend. Then Evie didn’t want to be my friend, but that’s okay now.”
“Who’s Evie?”
“She’s the new girl in school.”
“Oh, that’s weird,” Willa said.
“What’s weird?”
“That there’s a girl in school I don’t even know.”
“But you moved away,” I reminded her.
“So Evie’s your best friend now?”
“No,” I said. “It takes time to make a best friend. YOU’RE still my best friend. It’s okay to have a best friend that lives far away. We just have to talk on the phone more.”
“So maybe Evie can be your second best friend,” Willa said.
“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe she can be that.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you the other day. Sometimes I just get upset when I think too much about Somers. I miss it so much, so then I pretend I never lived there.”
“Evie misses her old home so much that at first she didn’t even want to be my friend,” I told Willa.
“You can be friends with her,” Willa said. “But I’m glad you’re still my best friend.”
We talked for a few more minutes. She told me some things about Pennsylvania and I filled her in on what was going on in Somers. Then Dad pulled up in front of Hilltop Acres and it was time to go. “By the way, you’re going to get a surprise from me in the mail.”
“Really? What is it?”
“I can’t tell you, or else it won’t be a surprise.”
“Okay, well I’ll call you as soon as I get it.”
“Call me even before then.”
“I’ll call you before then,” Willa agreed.
We said goodbye and hung up. Evie was standing on the sidewalk with Malty—I mean Bella Malty—in her arms, waiting for me. I handed Dad back his cell phone and rushed out to meet them.
Story Ingredients
“Stella, can you come here a minute?” Mrs. Finkel asked.
I went up to Mrs. Finkel’s desk. This girl Maddie’s story was at the top of the pile of story lists. Mrs. Finkel had written on the top. Checks are what we get on most of our assignments. It means “This is good work.”
Mrs. Finkel thumbed through the pile and pulled out my paper. She tapped it with her pencil. It didn’t have a check mark on it.
“Are you sure you understood the assignment?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“It’s all right if you didn’t,” Mrs. Finkel said. “I know this is third grade and you’re just learning about how to write a story.”
“Actually I’ve written lots of books,” I told her.
Okay, only three. But that’s a lot for an eight year old! That may be even more than Mrs. Finkel has written!
“You didn’t give much of a plot description,” Mrs. Finkel said.
“That’s because you don’t get to know the end of a story until you read it.” Duh, I wanted to tell her, like Joshua would. But I’d never say that to a teacher. I’d never say that to anyone.
Okay, maybe I’d say it to Penny. But she’s my little sister, and things you say to your little sister are different than things you’d say to anyone else.
“That’s part of story writing,” Mrs. Finkel said. “The author gets to know what happens at the end before the readers do. It’s okay to put those details here, though, for this assignment.”
“But not everything has happened yet.”
“I see,” Mrs. Finkel said. I see is another way grown-ups say I understand. But the way Mrs. Finkel was looking at me, kind of frowning so she got a little wrinkle between her eyes, I could tell she didn’t really understand at all.
She picked up the whole pile of kids’ papers and shuffled them together so the edges matched up. “Why don’t you do the honor of handing these back to your classmates?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Okay,” I said.
“Think about the plot a bit at home tonight. Maybe you’ll be inspired. Do you know what that word means?”
Of course I did! It’s when something gives you the feeling to want to do something. Things inspire me to write my books all the time.
“Yes, I know what the word means,” I told Mrs. Finkel.
“We can discuss it again tomorrow, if you want,” she said.
I knew I would NOT want to do that. Mrs. Finkel handed me the pile and I went around the room, giving each paper back to the right person. Every single kid had a check mark on top of his or her page. Some kids even had a check plus, which is what Mrs. Finkel writes when she thinks our work is better than just fine.
Joshua’s list was the last in the pile. Even he had a check mark. I handed it over to him.
“I saw Penny in the principal’s office,” he said. “That’s what I wanted to tell you.”
Courtney Sheinmel
Courtney Sheinmel is the author of several books for middle-grade readers, including Sincerely and All The Things You Are. Like Stella Batts, she was born in California and has a younger sister. However, her parents never owned a candy store. Now Courtney lives in New York City, where she has tasted all the cupcakes in her neighborhood. She also makes a delicious cookie brownie graham-cracker pie. Visit her at www.courtneysheinmel.com, where you can find the recipe along with information about all the Stella Batts books.
Jennifer A. Bell
Jennifer A. Bell is a children’s book illustrator whose work can also be found in magazine
s, on greeting cards, and on the occasional Christmas ornament. She studied Fine Arts at the Columbus College of Art and Design and currently lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
In this early chapter book series, the ups and downs of Stella’s life are charmingly chronicled. She’s in third grade, she wants to be a writer, and her parents own a candy shop. Life should be sweet, right?
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