by Rachel Vail
Then she bragged a little about her scissors skills and went to bed.
I climbed up to my top bunk and thought:
I got a little braver this year.
I smiled about that accomplishment for a few seconds.
On the other hand, I reminded myself, there are only 87 days until fourth grade starts. Who will my teacher be? Will she like me? What if the work is way harder in fourth grade? Maybe I should study some stuff just in case I forget everything over the summer. Maybe I should try to figure out what to worry about in advance so I won’t get new worries sprung on me by surprise.
But then I looked over at Wingnut, sleeping peacefully and a little battered but clean, now, on the Pillow of Honor, and I just decided not to worry yet.
Maybe things will turn out okay, like they did this year. And when they don’t, maybe I’ll be able to handle it. Like this year.
Maybe not.
Maybe I actually should get a jump on worrying.
But first, for a few days, I am just going to relax.