BFF* by Judy Blume Page A

home?”
    I told him about our first dead mouse. “Mom found him in the cabinet under the sink … she practically fainted … so I lifted him out by his tail … dropped him into a Baggie … and tossed him in the trash can.”
    Dad laughed. I love to make him laugh. When he does he opens his mouth wide and you can see his gold fillings. “Wait … I’m not finished,” I said, “because after I tossed him in the trash I forgot to put the bunjie cords back on the can … so that night the raccoons got into it and made a mess! So guess who had to clean up … and guess who almost missed the school bus?”
    Dad kept on laughing. I’m definitely best in my family at making him laugh. But we don’t get to laugh that much over the phone.
    â€œSo how’s the weather?” Dad finally asked.
    â€œNice,” I told him. “It’s getting to be fall.”

Remarkable Eyes
    Mrs. Remo wears contact lenses. She’s always telling us about them. She got them before school started so she’s worn them for two months now. This morning she was rubbing her eye. Then she said, “Oh no …” and motioned for us to be quiet. “I think I’ve lost a contact lens. I need someone to help me find it.”
    Hands shot up around the room.
    Eric Macaulay called out, “I’ve got perfect vision, Mrs. Remo. I’ll find it for you.”
    â€œAll right, Eric,” Mrs. Remo said.
    Eric shoved his chair back so hard it crashed into my desk, knocking over my books, which I had stacked like a pyramid. He raced up to the front of the room.
    â€œBe careful where you step, Eric,” Mrs. Remo said. “The lens is very fragile. I hope it’s fallen onto my desk, not the floor.”
    But Eric didn’t even bother to look on Mrs. Remo’s desk. He stood right up close to her and seemed to be examining her dress, which was a dark green knit, with short sleeves. He didn’t touch her, but the way he stared must have made her uncomfortable because she laughed nervously and said, “What
are
you doing, Eric?”
    â€œTrying to find your lens,” Eric said, “so please don’t move.”
    I would have been very embarrassed to have Eric Macaulay examine me that closely, especially across my chest.
    But then, halfway between Mrs. Remo’s left shoulder and her waist, Eric plucked something off her dress. “Aha!” he said. “Got it!” He held it up for Mrs. Remo to see.
    â€œWhy, Eric …” Mrs. Remo said, taking the lens off his finger, “you must have remarkable eyes! How did you know it would be on my dress?”
    â€œMy mother wears contacts,” Eric said. “Whenever she thinks she’s lost one it’s always stuck to her clothes.”
    â€œThank you, Eric,” Mrs. Remo said.
    The class applauded and Eric took a bow.
    Alison leaned across the aisle and whispered, “He’s so cute!”
    I made a face. Eric is too impossible to be cute.
    On his way back to his desk Eric stopped next to Alison’s. “Do you wear contacts, Thumbelina?”
    He’s been calling her Thumbelina since the second week of school but she doesn’t seem to mind.
    â€œNo,” Alison told him. “My eyes are as perfect as yours.”
    â€œToo bad …” Eric said, “because I wouldn’t mind finding your lost lenses.”
    Alison started to giggle and once she gets started she can’t stop.
    As soon as Mrs. Remo had her lens back in place she held up a flyer and said, “I’ve got an announcement, class. The seventh grade bake sale will be held a week from Monday. The first …” She stopped and shook her head. “All right, Alison … either calm down or share the joke with the rest of us.”
    Alison covered her mouth with both hands to keep from laughing out loud but I could tell