As I walked away, I heard Stella say, “Excuse me, Ms. Harmer? You should probably send Violet to the office too. After all, she’s the one who stole your keys.”
CHAPTER
2
Coco Martin, my guidance counselor, was unimpressed with my daredevil skills. She tossed me a tube of ointment and a box of Band-Aids. “Clean yourself up,” she said, gesturing to some cuts and scrapes on my arms. Then she went back to decorating her office for the fall. On her desk sat piles of tiny pumpkins and colorful ears of corn.
“Someone’s grouchy today,” I said, rubbing ointment onto my elbow. “Can’t you be a little nicer?”
Coco grunted and stuck a pumpkin on her bookcase. “Consider yourself lucky. The only reason you’re not in Principal Chilton’s office right now is because Ms. Harmer decided stealing keys is a bigger offense than climbing trees. . . . And how many more times am I going to have to tell you not to put your feet up on my desk?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “How many more times do you think I’ll get sent to your office?”
“That’s a mystery to me. You’ve only been here a month, and I think you already hold the school record. It’s been—what?—two days since I last saw you? When you kicked Tyler Jones in the shin.”
“That was totally not my fault. Tyler called me a weirdo and a waste of space.”
“ ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names can never hurt me.’ It’s a saying,” Coco said. “Ever heard of it?”
“You know what? Now that you mention it, I think I have!” I nearly sprained my eyeballs, I was trying so hard not to roll them. Words are a weapon, and rotten kids like Tyler Jones get a free pass when it comes to using them, because the marks they leave are invisible. Why don’t more adults realize that?
“Tyler trips me every day in class,” I pointed out. “He just never gets caught. He hates being my science partner.”
“Be that as it may, you need to stop showing up in my office. . . . You know, your sister spent three whole years here, and I don’t think I ever even met her.”
“Right,” I said, feeling the familiar twinge I got whenever Carolyn the Great was mentioned. “But you know your day is always more interesting when me and my sparkling personality make an appearance in it.”
Coco pressed her lips together, like she was trying not to smile. “Maybe so. But,”—her voice became stern—“sparkling personality or not, I still have to send a note home. School policy and all.”
Coco scribbled on the incident report form I was intimately acquainted with and handed it to me just as the bell rang. “Have your parents sign this and bring it back to me,” she said.
“I know the drill,” I answered, shoving the note into my skirt pocket.
On the walk home from school I passed Violet, who lives in my neighborhood. Violet and I used to be best friends, the kind that played together at lunch and every day after school in my treehouse. Sometimes we’d pretend we were secret CIA agents, or sometimes we’d throw sand at each other and pretend it was fairy dust. But after Violet’s mom got sick, and especially after Mrs. Barnaby passed away, Violet never wanted to play.
I considered slowing down to say hi, but Violet was hunched forward, her red peacoat fluttering in the wind as she stomped through a pile of fallen leaves. She didn’t look like she wanted company. I bet she’d gotten into a heap load of trouble for stealing Ms. Harmer’s keys, and I felt a little bad, because maybe Stella wouldn’t have told on her if I hadn’t climbed the tree.
I sped up and came upon a group of kids who were laughing. “Hey, Toad Girl!” a boy said as I passed. “Caught any flies lately?” Something small pinged off my shoulder.
“Dude, she looks like a toad,” said another boy, as everyone laughed. “Ribbit, ribbit.”
Sticks and stones, I told myself.
I felt the ping again and saw a yellow candy corn bounce off my arm and onto the ground—they were throwing them at me. I picked it up and yelled, “Thanks for the snack!” before popping it in my mouth and running ahead.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JENNY LUNDQUIST was born and raised in Huntington Beach, CA, where she spent her time unsuccessfully learning how to surf. When she was younger, she wanted to be either a rock star or a published author. After she taped herself singing and listened to it on playback, she decided she’d better opt for the writing route. Jenny is the author of The Charming Life of Izzy Malone, Seeing Cinderella, and Plastic Polly, as well as the young adult titles The Princess in the Opal Mask and The Opal Crown. Visit her online at www.jennylundquist.com.
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THE CHARMING LIFE OF IZZY MALONE
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ALSO BY JENNY LUNDQUIST
The Princess in the Opal Mask
The Opal Crown
Seeing Cinderella
Plastic Polly
The Charming Life of Izzy Malone
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ALADDIN
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First Aladdin hardcover edition September 2017
Text copyright © 2017 by Jenny Lundquist
Jacket illustration copyright © 2017 by Ilaria Falorsi
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Jacket designed by Jessica Handelman
Interior designed by Mike Rosamilia
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017946535
ISBN 978-1-4814-6035-4 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4814-6034-7 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-4814-6036-1 (eBook)
The Wondrous World of Violet Barnaby Page 16