Ramona's World by Beverly Cleary

hoped Beezus wasn’t hiding in the bathroom, even though the Alexanders’ bathroom was sure to be nicer than a school bathroom. Their bathroom wouldn’t have scratchy tan paper towels.
    When her father told her to stop stalling and go to bed, Ramona lay awake thinking. She would never hide in a bathroom. She would march right up and ask a boy to dance if she ever wanted to do such a silly thing as dance.
    Even though Ramona thought that dancing was silly, she wanted her sister to have a good time. She even said a little prayer as she lay awake, waiting, full of hope and curiosity. The minute she heard her father drive off to bring Beezus home, Ramona bounced out of bed and went into the living room, where her mother was finally finishing Moby Dick . Of course Mrs. Quimby said, “Ramona, you should be in bed asleep.” Parents always said that.
    Ramona ignored this remark and snuggled up under her mother’s arm. She loved moments alone with her mother, which made her feel cozy and protected. She must have nodded off, for suddenly there was Beezus, her eyes still shining, her cheeks still pink. The rest of her face was unrecognizable. She was wearing dark red lipstick and green eyeshadow.

    â€œWow!” was Ramona’s comment. “What happened to you?”
    Beezus dropped into a chair and laughed.
    Mrs. Quimby laughed as well, distracted from Beezus’s new makeup by her relief at seeing her happy.
    Ramona spoke up before Beezus could answer. “What’s so funny?” she asked.
    â€œBoys,” said Beezus. “Boys are funny.”
    â€œWho says boys are funny?” Mr. Quimby had come in from the garage. “I was a boy once. I wasn’t funny.”
    â€œI say boys are funny,” said Beezus. “So do all the girls.”
    Mrs. Quimby asked, “What do boys do that is so funny?”
    Beezus explained. “Except for one boy, they wouldn’t even come in the house. One boy brought a miniature chess set and he and another boy played chess under the porch light. The others just sort of flopped around or tried standing on their hands in the wet grass. Some boys who weren’t even invited joined in. There was a lot of whooping and yelling and neighbors coming out to see what was going on. One boy pulled a night crawler out of the lawn and chased another boy around with it. You know the stuff boys do. Mrs. Alexander got all upset because she wants Abby to be popular, and she wasn’t being popular with all the boys sitting outside acting like a bunch of little kids. Somebody must have called the police, because we saw them drive by, but they kept on going.”
    â€œWhat about the boy in the house?” asked Mr. Quimby.
    â€œHe watched TV,” Beezus explained. “Nobody paid any attention to him. The other boys said they had just come for the food.”
    Sounds like Yard Ape, Ramona thought, and Howie might bring a chess set.
    â€œPoor hungry boys,” said Mr. Quimby. “I hope somebody fed them.”
    â€œOh, sure,” said Beezus as if this was not important. “The girls had fun experimenting with free samples of lipstick and all the other free samples Mrs. Alexander gets when she buys cosmetics.”
    â€œI wondered what happened to your face,” said Mrs. Quimby with a smile, “but I was afraid to ask.”
    â€œMrs. Alexander wears lots of makeup,” Beezus continued, “and her hair is a funny color. She wears it all fluffed up and it looks something like those coppery things we scour pans with.”
    â€œYou look weird, like a vampire or something” was Ramona’s comment. “What about the dancing?”
    â€œThat’s the best part. We didn’t have to dance,” said Beezus. “Some girls were disappointed, but we sort of played Monopoly and Scrabble. Mostly we talked about—oh, you know—and had a good time anyway, and then the boys began to yell that they were