catch up with the others.
"I'll be waiting," I say.
I look around the playground for something good to draw. Some little kids are getting pushed on the swings. Bigger kids dangle from the monkey bars. Several moms are talking at a picnic table while their babies swap soggy cheerios from their strollers. Randi shoots hoops with some sixth graders on the basketball court. A squirrel darts in and out of a nearby bush.
"Will you watch this for me?" I hear someone say.
I look up and see a girl standing next to me. She pulls a wad of purple gum out of her mouth.
"Huh?" I say.
"We're not allowed to chew gum on the playground," she says, pointing to a sign that reads, no gum, dogs, or rollerblades on the equipment. She sticks the gum on the bench next to me. "Thanks," she says and runs off. A moment later she's hanging upside down from the monkey bars.
The squirrel reappears with half a granola bar in its mouth.
"Friend of Jenna's?" I ask.
The squirrel doesn't answer. It just flicks its fluffy tail into a question mark and watches me with one beady eye. Then it takes the granola bar in its tiny doll hands and bites off the edges with its sharp, pointy teeth.
I glance at my muddy sneakers, which are just one shade away from a granola bar. I pull my feet up onto the bench, check on the gum, and start drawing.
First, I draw a face with beady eyes and sharp, pointy teeth. I give it fuzzy braids. And a furry body with a fluffy tail. I dress it in a fish shirt. And size six sneakers.
It's good, but it's just my warm-up drawing.
On the other side of the page I draw a girl with curly hair and dark eyes and no sharp teeth at all. I give her feathery arms, like bird wings, and long legs that could kick her to the sky.
"Thanks," I hear someone say.
I look up and see gum girl standing next to me. She pulls her purple wad off the bench and pops it back into her mouth.
"You're welcome," I reply.
"Who's that?" she asks, snooping at my sketchbook.
"My best friend," I say, looking at my drawing of Stacey.
"Which one?" she asks. "The one with braids or the one with curls?"
"The one with
curls,
" I say, pointing.
"Then who's the one with braids?" she asks.
"That's ... someone else," I say.
"Not your friend?"
"Not exactly," I reply, checking my watch.
Gum girl studies the drawings some more. "You did that one better," she says, poking the page with her sticky finger.
She skips away.
I look at the page.
And see a purple smudge on a fuzzy braid.
Chapter 11
The squirrel has finished its granola bar and moved on to soggy Cheerios by the time the dancers get back. Randi sees them coming and catches up. Meeka and Jolene do a little hop-skip-jump together as they come down the path toward me. Brooke is batting away bugs. Stacey is practicing some dance move she probably just learned. Jenna is talking constantly even though no one seems to be listening.
"Miss Woo even let me borrow her Greek music CD!" I hear Jenna say as they get closer.
Stacey does a graceful spin and lands next to me on the bench. Jenna plops down beside her and pulls a clipboard out of her backpack. "My parents are going to
love
this," she says, scribbling notes on the clipboard.
"Love what?" I ask.
"The dance we're going to do for Greek Day," Jenna says.
"Oh, I know!" Jolene chimes in, sitting down on the grass. "Let's make up a dance about that goofy boy who built wings with
wax
and then tried to fly to the sun." She laughs. "Typical."
Meeka laughs, too, and sits down next to Jolene. "Or the one about the wicked goddess who left a golden apple at a party andâ"
"I'm gonna be a cyclops," Randi cuts in. "With Rusty. We're gonna glue a googly eye on our forehead and tell jokes."
"Fine," Jenna says, looking up from her clipboard, "but you're going to be in my dance, too. All the do-good nymphs are." She glances at Meeka and Jolene. "And I've already decided which myth we'll do."
"Which one?" Stacey asks.
"We're going to dance the myth about Gaia,
"I'll be waiting," I say.
I look around the playground for something good to draw. Some little kids are getting pushed on the swings. Bigger kids dangle from the monkey bars. Several moms are talking at a picnic table while their babies swap soggy cheerios from their strollers. Randi shoots hoops with some sixth graders on the basketball court. A squirrel darts in and out of a nearby bush.
"Will you watch this for me?" I hear someone say.
I look up and see a girl standing next to me. She pulls a wad of purple gum out of her mouth.
"Huh?" I say.
"We're not allowed to chew gum on the playground," she says, pointing to a sign that reads, no gum, dogs, or rollerblades on the equipment. She sticks the gum on the bench next to me. "Thanks," she says and runs off. A moment later she's hanging upside down from the monkey bars.
The squirrel reappears with half a granola bar in its mouth.
"Friend of Jenna's?" I ask.
The squirrel doesn't answer. It just flicks its fluffy tail into a question mark and watches me with one beady eye. Then it takes the granola bar in its tiny doll hands and bites off the edges with its sharp, pointy teeth.
I glance at my muddy sneakers, which are just one shade away from a granola bar. I pull my feet up onto the bench, check on the gum, and start drawing.
First, I draw a face with beady eyes and sharp, pointy teeth. I give it fuzzy braids. And a furry body with a fluffy tail. I dress it in a fish shirt. And size six sneakers.
It's good, but it's just my warm-up drawing.
On the other side of the page I draw a girl with curly hair and dark eyes and no sharp teeth at all. I give her feathery arms, like bird wings, and long legs that could kick her to the sky.
"Thanks," I hear someone say.
I look up and see gum girl standing next to me. She pulls her purple wad off the bench and pops it back into her mouth.
"You're welcome," I reply.
"Who's that?" she asks, snooping at my sketchbook.
"My best friend," I say, looking at my drawing of Stacey.
"Which one?" she asks. "The one with braids or the one with curls?"
"The one with
curls,
" I say, pointing.
"Then who's the one with braids?" she asks.
"That's ... someone else," I say.
"Not your friend?"
"Not exactly," I reply, checking my watch.
Gum girl studies the drawings some more. "You did that one better," she says, poking the page with her sticky finger.
She skips away.
I look at the page.
And see a purple smudge on a fuzzy braid.
Chapter 11
The squirrel has finished its granola bar and moved on to soggy Cheerios by the time the dancers get back. Randi sees them coming and catches up. Meeka and Jolene do a little hop-skip-jump together as they come down the path toward me. Brooke is batting away bugs. Stacey is practicing some dance move she probably just learned. Jenna is talking constantly even though no one seems to be listening.
"Miss Woo even let me borrow her Greek music CD!" I hear Jenna say as they get closer.
Stacey does a graceful spin and lands next to me on the bench. Jenna plops down beside her and pulls a clipboard out of her backpack. "My parents are going to
love
this," she says, scribbling notes on the clipboard.
"Love what?" I ask.
"The dance we're going to do for Greek Day," Jenna says.
"Oh, I know!" Jolene chimes in, sitting down on the grass. "Let's make up a dance about that goofy boy who built wings with
wax
and then tried to fly to the sun." She laughs. "Typical."
Meeka laughs, too, and sits down next to Jolene. "Or the one about the wicked goddess who left a golden apple at a party andâ"
"I'm gonna be a cyclops," Randi cuts in. "With Rusty. We're gonna glue a googly eye on our forehead and tell jokes."
"Fine," Jenna says, looking up from her clipboard, "but you're going to be in my dance, too. All the do-good nymphs are." She glances at Meeka and Jolene. "And I've already decided which myth we'll do."
"Which one?" Stacey asks.
"We're going to dance the myth about Gaia,
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