The More the Merrier
Page 7
“Can you—,” said Rosemary T.
“No,” said Mrs. Shu, “time to spell.”
“Scissors,” said Rosemary T. “S-c-i-s-.” She stopped for a minute and started back up again. “S-c-i-s-s-o-r-s. Scissors?”
“Correct,” said Mrs. Shu.
Next a fifth grader spelled continuous wrong, and a fourth grader spelled renovate wrong, and then that round was over and people clapped.
The fourth round had tons of hard G words. Isaac missed the word ghoul, and I got the word guardian and was sure I was going to miss it too. Then I remembered about lifeguards. Phew! Rosemary T. got gymnasium, and Mrs. Shu said it very slowly and told her she knew what it meant and that she should spell. And Rosemary T. did and got it right.
Round five was all full of words I had never even heard of like appellate and bassoon. I got vernacular; and thank goodness for figuring out where vexylent would live if it goes in the dictionary, because I got it right.
“Miss Taylor,” said Mrs. Shu, “your word is harangue.”
Rosemary T. stood there for a second and then she said, “Can you pronounce it again, please?”
“Harangue,” Mrs. Shu said very slowly.
“Can you define it, please?” asked Rosemary T.
“A ranting speech,” said Mrs. Shu.
“Can you use it in a sentence, please?” asked Rosemary T.
“Worried that someone might clap when they shouldn’t, the principal decided to harangue the audience on spelling bee etiquette.”
I didn’t know about Rosemary T., but all this help from Mrs. Shu would not have helped me at all. The only thing that might have would have been eating chocolate meringue pie with Charlie and Mrs. Hansen and talking about the weird word that we were eating.
“Harangue,” said Rosemary T. “H-a-r-a-n-g. Harangue.”
“That is incorrect,” said Mrs. Shu. “Please join the audience.”
And when that round ended, I smiled the biggest ever and even clapped myself when it was time for applause. And maybe that wasn’t too nice, but maybe it was okay. I’ve never had a not-friend before, so I’m not sure what exactly you do.
When round six started, I felt a little lonely up onstage. The two chairs on my right were empty and so was Rosemary T.’s on my left. I looked down to where Zachary was sitting, and he smiled at me. I gave him a thumbs-up, and he gave me a thumbs-up back; and I felt a little less alone.
The round was all full of Ss. To give you a few examples, there was saxophone and salmonella and my word, spaghetti. I knew there was something tricky about my word, but I couldn’t remember what it was. I also knew having a definition or a sentence wouldn’t help. I knew what spaghetti was; I just didn’t know how to spell it. All I could do was try my best. “Spaghetti. S-p-a-g-e-t-t-i. Spaghetti.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Smith, that is incorrect,” said Mrs. Shu. “Please join the audience.”
I gave Zachary another thumbs-up on my way to my seat, and he gave me another one back. Then I went and sat right on my dad’s lap and grabbed hold of my mom’s hand. I was sad, but not crying-about-it sad, because I was with my mom and dad and Aunt Flora and Tess. Then I noticed that I’d left behind one of my Mary Janes up onstage, tucked under my chair; and I did a great, big sigh. Alas.
We went out to get ice cream afterward; and the whole school seemed to have the same idea, because that place was packed.
“You may not have won,” said Erin, “but you beat Rosemary T.!”
“Well done, Cinderella.” Mr. Harrison squeezed past.
“I didn’t know teachers went out for ice cream,” said Erin.
“Me neither,” I said.
Tons of third graders kept squashing past us and saying hi.
Kristy and Olivia and Casey gave me hugs.
“Pretty vexylent,” said Trevor.
“Congratulations, Cinderella.” Rosemary T.’s mom squeezed by on her way to order ice cream.
“Yeah, good job, Cinderella,” said Rosemary T.’s oldest sister.
“Thank you,” I said. “And good job to you too, Rosemary T.”
Rosemary T. didn’t say anything.
“Where are your manners, Rosemary?” said her middle sister.
Rosemary T. gave me mean stink eyes.
“Don’t be so immature, Rosemary,” said her oldest sister.
Rosemary T. clamped her lips together and didn’t say a word.
“I guess we have to apologize for our baaaaaby sister.” Rosemary T.’s oldest sister flipped her hair and headed to the counter where their mom was.
“How embarrassing.” Rosemary T.’s middle sister rolled her eyes and followed.
“Harangue is a very hard word.” I felt sort of bad for Rosemary T. all of a sudden.
Rosemary T. looked like maybe she was going to say something; but her mom called her over to the counter, and she went to get her ice cream.
Zachary started to inch past, but all the third graders stopped him. We patted him on the back and yelled “Hurray” and gave him high fives and tens.
Abby and Hannah squished into the group too. “You did awesome too, Cinderella!”
Charlie pushed through a bunch of people to stand next to us. He was holding his basketball in one hand and had the other hand behind his back. “Good job! If you had gotten out on athlete, I would have been really mad.”
“Charlie!” Charlie’s mom called from somewhere in the ice cream place. “Here’s your cone!”
“Gotta go!” said Charlie. “Oh yeah, here.” He pulled his hand from behind his back and handed me my Mary Jane.
“Oh, I forgot about that,” I said. “Thanks.”
“No problemo.” Charlie pushed away.
My dad appeared out of nowhere holding Tess on his shoulders. “About ready to go?”
“Yep,” I said. “Can Erin spend the night?”
“It works for me,” said my dad. “Let’s go check with the moms.”
We said good-bye to everyone, and I grabbed on to my dad’s belt and Erin grabbed on to my hood. We chug-a-chugged right behind him like we were a train, and that was a way easier way to get around and out of that jammed-packed place, FYI.
Chapter 14
More of Everything
On Saturday morning we went out for breakfast, and when we got home we saw a sort of strange sight. Loud Charlie and quiet Zachary were standing in Charlie’s driveway, wearing all blue. Erin and I ran over to see what this was all about.
“I didn’t know you were Cub Scouts,” I said when I got closer and saw the uniforms.
“Zachary’s been one for a while,” said Charlie, “but I’m just starting.”
“I showed Charlie how to make a pinewood derby car,” said Zachary. “Now Charlie’s going to teach me some basketball moves.”
“That sounds like a good trade,” I said. “Congratulations on the spelling bee again.”
“Thanks.” Zachary looked down at his feet.
“Did you pick a party theme?” asked Erin.
Zachary looked up, and his cheeks were a little red. “Not yet. My mom told me I had to decide by the time she picks me up, and that’s in only two hours.”
“What are you trying to choose from?” asked Erin.
“I can’t decide yet, still.” Zachary looked very worried.
“Do you want some help?” I asked.
Zachary’s worried look went away a little bit. “Yes!”
“How about basketball,” said Charlie.
“Or animals,” said Erin.
“Or Cub Scouts,” said Charlie.
“Or tap dancing,” said Erin.
Zachary’s worried look got even worried-er than before.
“I don’t think this is helping,” I said.
“There are a lot of good ideas,” said Erin.
“Too many good ideas,” said Zachary.
Then all of a sudden I had an AHA!, and it was so good that I said it out loud by accident.
“What?” asked Erin a
nd Charlie and Zachary all at the same time.
“Come over to my house, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
So everybody followed me home, and they liked my idea and we got to work.
On Monday, right after lunch, Mr. Harrison said it was time for the festivities to begin.
The first thing we did was decorate. Me and Erin and Zachary and Charlie had emailed the whole class and asked them to bring in a picture of one of their favorite things. I brought a picture of my last dance recital, where I’m wearing my shiny, red tap shoes with a fancy bow. Erin brought a picture of Anna and Julia and me from her mom’s wedding. Zachary brought a picture of his hamster, Fred, and Charlie brought a basketball picture, of course. Mr. Harrison brought a picture of an Opel GT that he printed off the computer.
People started taping their pictures up, and everywhere you looked there were animals and sports teams and UFOs and about everything else you could imagine.
Pretty soon the room-parents started coming in with treats. To give you a few examples, my mom brought Rice Krispies Treats, and Erin’s mom brought popcorn, and Zachary’s mom brought string cheese, and Charlie’s mom brought brownies. There were also pretzels and cupcakes and orange slices and cookies and lots of different things to drink.
“I think we have enough to feed an army,” said Mr. Harrison.
And I think he was right. I have never seen so much food at a class party before. Or so many decorations either. While the room-parents set up the food, the class drew pictures of more of their favorite things and hung those up too.
“This is a great idea, Zachary,” Christopher called from across the room.
“It was really Cinderella’s idea,” Zachary called back.
“No way,” I said. “I just got the ball rolling. It was yours and mine and Erin’s and Charlie’s too!”
“I like it ’cause it’s not too girly,” said Jack.
“And it’s not too boyly either,” said Olivia.
“Also,” said Logan, “there’s plenty of levity.”
Kristy walked over to the wall and taped up a picture of a horse.
“That is a vexylent picture!” said Hannah.
I was so surprised to hear Hannah use my word that my mouth popped wide-open.
“Hannah!” The Rosemarys spun around in their chairs and stared hard at her.
Hannah covered her mouth with her hand for a second, and her eyes opened wide. Then she put her hand back down. “It is vexylent,” she said. “Kristy, will you teach me how to draw a horse and help me add a horn to make it a unicorn?”
“Sure!” said Kristy. “Come over to our table.”
“Me too!” said Abby.
“Class, please take a seat,” said Mr. Harrison.
We all just took a seat wherever we were.
“I’m very proud of you,” he said. “You all worked hard and did a fine job improving your spelling skills. Bravo!” He started clapping, and the room-parents joined in and then the rest of us did too.
“Zachary, Rosemary T., and Cinderella, please come up front.”
We all three went up to his desk, and he shook our hands and gave us each a ribbon.
One of the room-parents wanted to take our picture, so we all stood still and smiled. After the flash I looked down and saw I was only wearing socks, but Rosemary T. didn’t tattle or anything.
Just then the door opened, and Mrs. Kirk stuck her head in. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“That’s okay,” said me and Zachary and Rosemary T. and Mr. Harrison at the same time. Then we all four started laughing.
“We were just about to start celebrating last week’s spelling successes,” said Mr. Harrison.
And right then and there I had another great, big AHA! I whispered it to Zachary, and he pulled on Mr. Harrison’s sleeve and said, “Would it be okay if we invited Mrs. Kirk’s class to come too?”
“Oh, I don’t know . . . ,” said Mrs. Kirk.
“That’s a grand idea,” said Mr. Harrison. “We have plenty to share.”
We all had friends in the other third-grade class, so a lot of kids agreed.
“If you did come,” I said, “it would go right with our party’s Main Theme.”
“What is your party’s Main Theme?” she asked.
“It’s a More of Everything party,” said Zachary. “More party ideas and more decorations and more food and more people—if your class comes, that is.”
“Please do come,” said Mr. Harrison.
“Because, you know,” I said, “the more the merrier.”
About the Author
In between tripping over abandoned shoes, chasing after escaped pets, and searching for lost belongings, Stephanie Barden wrote her first book, CINDERELLA SMITH, which has been widely praised. She teaches classes at Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle, where she lives with her husband, Tom; son, Joe; and eighty-pound lapdog, Otis. You can visit her online at www.stephaniebarden.com.
Diane Goode was born in Brooklyn, New York, and has a BA in fine arts from Queens College. Her distinguished list of picture books begins with the Caldecott Honor winner WHEN I WAS YOUNG IN THE MOUNTAINS by Cynthia Rylant. She lives and works in Watchung, New Jersey, with her husband, David, and their two dogs, Jack and Daisy. You can visit her online at www.dianegoode.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
Credits
Cover art © 2012 by Diane Goode
Hand lettering by David Coulson
Copyright
Cinderella Smith: The More the Merrier
Text copyright © 2012 by Stephanie Barden
Illustrations copyright © 2012 by Diane Goode
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 978-0-06-200440-6
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First Edition
EPub Edition © MARCH 2012 ISBN: 9780062114310
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