her watery, pale blue eyes blinking as she struggled to understand.
"Saves money? Why do you want to save money? Did your parents cut off your allowance?" Linda inquired.
"I don't have an allowance. Momma gives me money for milk, but other than that . . ."
"Money for milk?" Linda laughed and looked at
Clara Sue. "What does your father do, anyway?"
"He works here. He's a maintenance supervisor."
"Maintenance?" Linda gasped. "You mean . . . he's a janitor?" Her eyes widened when I nodded. "Uh-huh. Because he works here, my brother, Jimmy, and I get to go to Emerson Peabody."
The girls turned to each other and suddenly laughed.
"A janitor," Clara Sue said, as though she couldn't believe it. They laughed again. "I think we'll let Louise and Dawn have this table," she purred. Clara Sue lifted her tray and stood up. Linda and the others followed suit and started away.
"I didn't know your father was a janitor here," Louise said.
"You never gave me a chance to tell you. He's a supervisor because he's very good at fixing and maintaining all sorts of engines and motors," I said proudly.
"How nice." She looked around and then slipped her hands around her books and lifted them off the table. "Oh! I just remembered. I have to talk to Mary Jo Alcott. We have a science project to do together. I'll see you later," she said quickly and walked across the cafeteria to another table. The girls there didn't seem so happy to greet her, but she sat down anyway. She pointed at me and they all laughed.
They were snubbing me because they thought I was beneath them just because Daddy was the janitor.
Jimmy was right, I thought. Rich kids were spoiled and horrible. I glared back at them defiantly, even though tears burned like fire under my eyelids. I rose and walked proudly to the lunch line to get some milk.
I looked around for Jimmy, hoping that he had been luckier than me and had made at least one friend by now, but I didn't see him anywhere. I returned to my table and began to unfold my bag when I heard someone say, "There any free seats here?"
I looked up at one of the handsomest boys I had ever seen. His hair was thick and flaxen blond like mine. It waved just enough to be perfect. His eyes were cerulean blue and they sparkled with laughter. His nose was straight and neither too long nor too narrow, nor too thick. He was just a little taller than Jimmy, but he had wider shoulders and stood straight and confidently. When I looked more closely at him, I saw that just like me, he had a tiny patch of freckles under each eye.
"They're all free," I said.
"Really? Can't imagine why," he said and sat down across from me. He extended his hand. "My name's Philip Cutler," he said.
"Cutler?" I pulled my hand back quickly.
"What's wrong?" His blue eyes sparkled wickedly. "Don't tell me some of those catty girls have warned you against me already?"
"No . . ." I turned and looked at the table of girls with Clara Sue at the center. They were all looking our way.
"I . . . your sister . . ."
"Oh, her. What'd she do?" His gaze darkened as he glanced back their way. I saw how it infuriated Clara Sue.
"She . . . blames me for getting her in trouble this morning in gym class. I . . . didn't you see me walking through the school in my gym uniform?"
"Oh, that was you? So you're the famous new girl—Dawn. I did hear about you, but I was so busy this morning, I didn't catch sight of you."
The way he smiled made me wonder if he was lying. Did Clara Sue put him up to this?
"You're probably the only one in the school who didn't," I said. "I was even called down to the principal's office and bawled out, even though it wasn't my fault."
"That doesn't surprise me. Mrs. Turnbell thinks she's a prison warden instead of a principal. That's why we call her Mrs. Turnkey."
"Turnkey?" I had to smile. It fit.
"And all this was my bratty sister's fault, huh?" He shook his head. "That figures, too."
"I've tried to make friends, apologize, but . . ." I glared
"Saves money? Why do you want to save money? Did your parents cut off your allowance?" Linda inquired.
"I don't have an allowance. Momma gives me money for milk, but other than that . . ."
"Money for milk?" Linda laughed and looked at
Clara Sue. "What does your father do, anyway?"
"He works here. He's a maintenance supervisor."
"Maintenance?" Linda gasped. "You mean . . . he's a janitor?" Her eyes widened when I nodded. "Uh-huh. Because he works here, my brother, Jimmy, and I get to go to Emerson Peabody."
The girls turned to each other and suddenly laughed.
"A janitor," Clara Sue said, as though she couldn't believe it. They laughed again. "I think we'll let Louise and Dawn have this table," she purred. Clara Sue lifted her tray and stood up. Linda and the others followed suit and started away.
"I didn't know your father was a janitor here," Louise said.
"You never gave me a chance to tell you. He's a supervisor because he's very good at fixing and maintaining all sorts of engines and motors," I said proudly.
"How nice." She looked around and then slipped her hands around her books and lifted them off the table. "Oh! I just remembered. I have to talk to Mary Jo Alcott. We have a science project to do together. I'll see you later," she said quickly and walked across the cafeteria to another table. The girls there didn't seem so happy to greet her, but she sat down anyway. She pointed at me and they all laughed.
They were snubbing me because they thought I was beneath them just because Daddy was the janitor.
Jimmy was right, I thought. Rich kids were spoiled and horrible. I glared back at them defiantly, even though tears burned like fire under my eyelids. I rose and walked proudly to the lunch line to get some milk.
I looked around for Jimmy, hoping that he had been luckier than me and had made at least one friend by now, but I didn't see him anywhere. I returned to my table and began to unfold my bag when I heard someone say, "There any free seats here?"
I looked up at one of the handsomest boys I had ever seen. His hair was thick and flaxen blond like mine. It waved just enough to be perfect. His eyes were cerulean blue and they sparkled with laughter. His nose was straight and neither too long nor too narrow, nor too thick. He was just a little taller than Jimmy, but he had wider shoulders and stood straight and confidently. When I looked more closely at him, I saw that just like me, he had a tiny patch of freckles under each eye.
"They're all free," I said.
"Really? Can't imagine why," he said and sat down across from me. He extended his hand. "My name's Philip Cutler," he said.
"Cutler?" I pulled my hand back quickly.
"What's wrong?" His blue eyes sparkled wickedly. "Don't tell me some of those catty girls have warned you against me already?"
"No . . ." I turned and looked at the table of girls with Clara Sue at the center. They were all looking our way.
"I . . . your sister . . ."
"Oh, her. What'd she do?" His gaze darkened as he glanced back their way. I saw how it infuriated Clara Sue.
"She . . . blames me for getting her in trouble this morning in gym class. I . . . didn't you see me walking through the school in my gym uniform?"
"Oh, that was you? So you're the famous new girl—Dawn. I did hear about you, but I was so busy this morning, I didn't catch sight of you."
The way he smiled made me wonder if he was lying. Did Clara Sue put him up to this?
"You're probably the only one in the school who didn't," I said. "I was even called down to the principal's office and bawled out, even though it wasn't my fault."
"That doesn't surprise me. Mrs. Turnbell thinks she's a prison warden instead of a principal. That's why we call her Mrs. Turnkey."
"Turnkey?" I had to smile. It fit.
"And all this was my bratty sister's fault, huh?" He shook his head. "That figures, too."
"I've tried to make friends, apologize, but . . ." I glared
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