Table of Contents
Dedication
Copyright Page
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
About the Author
About the Illustrator
For Ian, my class clown.—NK
For Mom, Thank you!—AB
GROSSET & DUNLAP
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Text copyright © 2010 by Nancy Krulik. Illustrations copyright © 2010 by Aaron Blecha. All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. S.A.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2009036675
eISBN : 978-1-101-43718-6
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Chapter 1
George lay on his bed and stared at Kadeem’s page in the Good-bye, George book the kids at his old school had made for him. All the fourth-graders had written something. But Kadeem’s page was the one that made George the saddest and the maddest. Sad because now he had no friends to tell jokes to. And mad because Kadeem made it sound like his jokes were funnier than George’s. And that wasn’t true. No way!
George reread what Kevin, his best friend, had written. At least Kevin used to be George’s best friend. Could you stay best friends with someone far away?
George started to laugh. No one was more afraid of bugs than mean Mrs. Jerkman. (That was what George had always called his strict third-grade teacher—at least behind her back.) Freaking her out was always fun.
George turned the page in his book. The next note was from Suzanne Lock.
Even seeing that cheered George up. Suzanne hadn’t wanted to write anything. Her teacher had made her do it. Not that George blamed Suzanne. It wasn’t like they’d ever been friends or anything.
But the note on the page next to Suzanne’s was from one of George’s really good friends.
George thought Katie’s last name, Carew, sounded like a kazoo. And the nickname had stuck.
Katie was a really good friend. And she was pretty smart. But she was wrong about George. He was scared to be living in a new town and starting in a new school today.
George had a lot of practice being the new kid. His dad was in the army and his family moved around a lot. But it was never easy. After spending two whole years in Cherrydale, he had almost started feeling like an “old” kid. Then—BAM—here he was in Beaver Brook.
“George! It’s 0-800 hours. Gotta get a move on! Front and center!”
His dad’s deep voice echoed through the halls of their new house. It was a lot bigger than their old house. Even with all their furniture, it felt empty. In fact, the long upstairs hallway would be great for skateboarding—except his mom never let him skateboard in the house.
George grabbed his backpack and headed downstairs. For a second, he thought about sliding down the banister. Then he stopped himself. That was something the old George would do. Now, besides being the new kid, he wanted to be a new George. And the new George didn’t do dumb stuff like that, dumb stuff that got him into trouble.
The last time George slid down a banister was at his old school. He’d flipped over the side of the staircase and wound up with a black eye and a bloody nose. And not just a regular bloody nose. A super-colossal bloody nose. The kind that turns your nose into a blood fountain. The school nurse said she’d never seen anything like it. It had been sort of gross. But sort of cool, too.
“Got everything, honey?” George’s mom asked as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Pencils? Notebooks? Lunch?”
“Check, check, and check,” George said.
“That shirt looks really nice,” his mother told him.
“Thanks,” George said. His new green T-shirt had a picture of a blob on the middle of it. It was really cool. The perfect first day of school shirt.
“Okay, soldier,” his dad said. “Ready to march?”
“Yes, sir,” George answered. He saluted his dad. His dad saluted back and then gave him a big bear hug.
“Then let’s go,” George’s dad said.
As George headed to his new school, he thought about Cherrydale Elementary School. Not to brag, but everybody there liked him. He was famous for being the funny kid—the class clown. Of course, pranks also got him into more trouble than anyone. It seemed to George that he’d spent as much time in the principal’s office as he had in class.
But that wasn’t going to happen in Beaver Brook. No more class clown! George was turning over a new leaf. He was through with getting in trouble. He was going to act differently from now on. So differently, in fact, that he’d decided to start school with a new last name. His dad’s last name was Brennan. And that was the last name George had used all his life. There was nothing wrong with that name. But from now on, George was using his mom’s last name—Brown. New name, new George.
“George Brown,” George murmured quietly under his breath. “George Brown.”
“What did you say?” his dad asked him.
“I was just trying out my new name,” George explained.
“Oh,” George’s dad replied.
“You’re okay about this, aren’t you, Dad?” George asked his father.
“Sure.” Only his dad didn’t sound so sure. “I guess it’ll just take a little getting used to. But I understand wanting to change things up. Look at me. I’ve traveled all over with the army. New people, new places. Lots of changes.”
That was true. His dad’s job was the reason the family was always moving. It was why George always seemed to be the new kid.
“But we’re going to stay at this base for a while,” George’s dad continued. “At least I hope so. Your mom is really excited about opening her own store. I don’t think she wants to pack up and move again.”
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br /> “Yeah, I guess,” George said. Having a dad in the army was cool. But having a mom who owned the Knit Wit—a shop that sold yarn, knitting needles, and beads—was, well . . . not so much.
George kept up with his dad’s long strides, trying to ignore the nervous feeling in his stomach. His mom called it having butterflies in your belly. But that wasn’t what it felt like. It was more like worms. Big, long, slimy worms slithering around inside.
They turned a corner. There it was. George stopped and stared at his new school. It was a redbrick building with a flagpole in front. Over the door it said Edith B. Sugarman Elementary School. Except for the name, it looked pretty much like all the other schools George had gone to.
“Edith B. Sugarman?” George wondered. “Is that somebody famous?”
His dad shrugged. “Never heard of her. But the name doesn’t really matter. Your new school has a fine reputation.”
George didn’t agree at all. Names did matter. A lot. And no one knew that better than George Brown.
Chapter 2
“Class, this is George Brown. George, we want to welcome you to class 401.”
George stood there, looking at all the strange, new kids, while his teacher, Mrs. Kelly, introduced him. It was awful. The kids were all staring at him like he was a freak—a two-headed ape or something.
For a second, George considered tucking his hands under his armpits, and saying “Ook, ook, ook” like an ape. Nobody did a better ape imitation than George.
But no. He was the new and improved George now. There would be no ooking at school!
“Who will volunteer to be George’s buddy today?” Mrs. Kelly asked.
Right away, kids slid down in their seats, so Mrs. Kelly wouldn’t pick them.
George wasn’t surprised. No one ever wanted to be the new kid’s buddy.
Finally, a girl with a long ponytail, who was wearing a yellow and green Little League jersey, raised her hand.
George was glad someone had finally volunteered. He just kind of wished it hadn’t been a girl.
Mrs. Kelly nodded. “Thank you, Julianna,” she said. Then she smiled and turned to George. “Why don’t you sit at the empty desk in the third row?”
George walked to his assigned seat. He hated assigned seats. What if he didn’t like the kids on either side of him? What if he became best friends with that short kid with curly hair and the mouth full of braces who was sitting in the fourth row? Or what if he got to be friends with the kid in the blue shirt in the second row? He was wearing the kind of sneakers that turned into skates when you popped the wheels out. A kid with shoes like that had to be cool.
Of course, that wasn’t a problem right now—George didn’t have any friends. The new kid never did.
“Okay, class, take out your science notebooks,” Mrs. Kelly said. Then she turned to George. “Yesterday we were talking about the first moon landing.”
George smiled for the first time that day. The moon landing. They’d already studied that back in his old school.
George’s old fourth-grade teacher, Mr. Guthrie, had made learning about space really awesome. He dressed like an astronaut and made the classroom look like NASA’s Mission Control Center.
Mrs. Kelly wore her glasses on a chain around her neck and had a piece of tissue tucked in her sleeve. And the only decorations on the classroom walls were a poster that said READ and a chart showing how all the letters of the alphabet looked in cursive.
“Now, who can tell me the name of the first man to step foot on the moon?” Mrs. Kelly asked.
Two hands shot up. One hand was George’s. The other hand belonged to the kid with the cool sneakers.
Mrs. Kelly pointed to George.
“Neil Armstrong,” he told her.
“Yes!” Mrs. Kelly said. “Very good, George.” Mrs. Kelly smiled—the kind of smile where her gums showed.
George smiled back. Already he was being the new, improved, raise-your-hand George.
“The second man to walk on the moon was Buzz Aldrin,” the kid with the cool sneakers called out.
Instead of telling him that he wasn’t supposed to call out without raising his hand, Mrs. Kelly said, “That’s right, Louie. Thank you for sharing such an interesting fact.”
One of the other boys in the class said, “What kind of name is Buzz?”
George knew that Buzz was just the astronaut’s nickname. He even knew that the guy’s real name was Edwin. But he kept quiet. Yes, he wanted to be the new, improved, paying attention George. But no, he didn’t want to show off or make the other kids think he was a brainiac geek or anything.
Instead, he kept quiet and copied down everything Mrs. Kelly said or wrote on the blackboard. There sure were a lot of notes. After a while, George had written so much that he felt like his hand was going to fall off. He could almost picture his hand breaking away from his wrist, and then walking across the floor—like something out of a horror movie.
Finally, Mrs. Kelly put down her chalk.
“Okay, everyone, let’s get ready for gym,” she told the kids. “Mr. Trainer is absent today. So I’m taking over your class. And we’re going to do something really fun.” Again Mrs. Kelly smiled her big, gummy smile.
As the kids lined up, George thought that he was ready for some fun.
The short boy with curly hair and braces walked down the hall next to George. “I guarantee this is not going to be fun,” he said in a low voice. “So you can stop smiling.”
“Why? What’s she gonna make us do?” George asked nervously.
“You’ll see,” the boy answered. “But trust me. It’s the worst.”
Chapter 3
George followed his new classmates into the school gym. The kids all had sickly looks on their faces. But Mrs. Kelly looked really excited.
“Okay, everyone choose your partners,” Mrs. Kelly said.
George frowned. No one ever picked the new kid as a partner. He was going to have to do whatever the awful thing was all by himself.
“I’ll be your partner,” the girl named Julianna said to George. “Since I’m your buddy, it’s kind of my job.”
George looked around the room. Was this the kind of thing you did with a girl? Or was it the kind of thing fourth-grade guys did together?
Then he saw everyone else had broken off into boy-girl pairs.
“Okay,” he told Julianna.
Mrs. Kelly plugged her MP3 player into the speakers. Then she reached down and pulled something from her bag.
“Oh no!” The kid with the curly hair smacked his forehead. “Not the straw hat!”
“Alex, shhhh . . .” Julianna warned.
Mrs. Kelly was putting on a straw farmer’s hat. It looked pretty dumb on her, especially since Mrs. Kelly was wearing big earrings and a necklace.
“Mrs. Kelly takes square dancing very seriously,” Julianna whispered to George.
George’s eyes opened wide. “Square dancing?”
Julianna nodded. “Mrs. Kelly loves folk dances.”
George gulped. That Alex kid hadn’t been kidding. This was every fourth-grade boy’s worst nightmare.
“Now, class, it’s been a while since we did traditional American square dancing,” Mrs. Kelly said. “So I’ll demonstrate a few of the steps again. I need a partner . . .” The teacher looked around the room. “George, how about you?”
George felt his eyes bug out.
“M-me?” he asked nervously. “I’ve never actually square-danced before.”
“No problem!” Mrs. Kelly exclaimed. “This will be your first lesson.”
Oh man. Like it wasn’t bad enough being the new kid. Now George was going to be the new kid who dances with the teacher.
“Class, this is a do-si-do,” Mrs. Kelly said, folding her arms in front of her.
George folded his arms, too.
“Now we walk around each other,” Mrs. Kelly told George.
George followed whatever Mrs. Kelly did. As he circled around her, the smelly
, flowery perfume she was wearing made his nose itch. So George wrinkled and crinkled his nose up and down as he danced.
George heard somebody laugh. It probably looked like he was making faces at his teacher. But he wasn’t.
“Terrific!” Mrs. Kelly said. “Now we’ll try the promenade. George, you take my hand and . . .”
George didn’t hear a word Mrs. Kelly said after that. All he could think about was that he was holding his teacher’s hand. And Mrs. Kelly’s hand was all wet and sweaty. That was really bad because George’s palms were sweating, too. That meant he was swapping sweat with his teacher.
One by one, Mrs. Kelly did the dance moves. They had strange names like sashay, do paso, and something that sounded like almond. And George had to do them all—with his teacher!
Finally, Mrs. Kelly sent him back to be Julianna’s partner. Sure, he was still going to have to square-dance. But at least Julianna was a kid.
Mrs. Kelly turned on the music. Then she began clapping her hands and stomping her foot.
“Okay, swing your partner, ’round you go,” Mrs. Kelly called out to the beat of the music. “Then everybody do-si-do.”
Then Mrs. Kelly did something really weird. She started to yodel. “Yodelay-heehoo.”
“Now promenade your partner home,” Mrs. Kelly said. “Come on now, don’t let her roam.”
Huh? George had already forgotten what “promenade” meant.
But Julianna knew. She grabbed George’s hands and started dragging him around the gym floor.
“Allemande left, and meet your friends,” Mrs. Kelly called. “Then turn around and come back again.”
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