“No play practice today,” Mitchell said. “Jake the Sweeper is painting the walls.” “Tan,” said Destiny. “Yuck.” “A lovely color,” Mrs. Farelli said behind them. Yuck, Gina thought. “Lovely,” she said. Stars were kind. Mrs. Farelli tilted her head. “I have a dress the same color as the wall. I’ll wear it to Madam Ballantine’s play tomorrow.” “Lovely,” Gina said again. “Lovely,” Destiny said at the same time. Too bad Destiny’s voice was louder than hers. Gina headed for the music room. She hadn’t been there for a few days. Mr. Sarsaparilla, the music teacher, must miss her. After all, she was going to be an opera singer when she grew up. She passed the gym. Charlie had a bandage on his nose. “From your Yellow Wing-O invention?” Gina asked. Charlie shook his head. “From my Walk-on-a-Rope-O invention.” He looked a little sad. “The rope-o broke-o.” Gina knew how he felt. Suppose she turned out to be a crybaby alien instead of the star?
