Some other people aren’t so lucky. Like Maggie Milner, who styles her drab brown hair so it curls under her chin. Maggie thinks it makes her look bouncy. Really, she looks like a dried porcini mushroom. Or there’s Winslow Fromes, who’s wedging into his desk, his shirt hiked up in the back, revealing a band of freckled flesh above SpongeBob underwear. Some people just don’t get it. I do. I get that right now I need help on the social studies test, which means I’ll have to make public contact with Winslow. Some students are chatting in little clumps around the room, while others are hunched over textbooks, cramming. For me, it’s too late for cramming. “Just let me glance at your answers to the multiple choice,” I say to Winslow. His thick fingers tap the little tuft of hair on his lower lip. But he’s not saying anything like, Sure, Taffeta! or Anything you want, Taffeta! Can Winslow really be that stunned that I have spoken to him? While Mr. Dribble, social studies tyrant, shakes his fist at the intercom, there’s another announcement (something about free doughnuts tomorrow to celebrate another great standardized-test-score victory at La Cambia Middle School, home of high achievement).
What do You think about Things Are Gonna Get Ugly?
