Evan was listening at the door, he wouldn't be able to figure out her secret hiding places.
She opened the door again, just a sliver, and handed Evan the dollar through the narrow crack. She hated giving up money, especially when she didn't get anything in return.
"Why'd you come in my room anyway?" asked Evan.
"I needed a piece of paper."
Evan's eyes narrowed to two dark slits. "You mean you went in my desk drawer?"
"Only for a split second!" said Jessie. "I just needed
one piece of paper."
She said the last part as if she was pleading for her life.
"You owe me another dollar!" shouted Evan.
"I do not!"
"Do, too! It's bad enough you went in my room. Now you're snooping around in my desk!"
"I wasn't snooping," said Jessie and meant it with all her heart. She had just wanted a piece of paper. Why did everything have to turn into such a big deal?
"I'm not leaving until you pay me another dollar. And that's the rule from now on."
"Oh, fine," said Jessie. She was starting to get that sick feeling in her stomach when she sensed that something was going wrong but she couldn't figure out exactly what. Was Evan going to ask her about tipping over the wastebasket? Jessie didn't want to talk about that, even though she didn't think she'd done anything wrong.
When she handed Evan the second dollar, he still didn't look pleased. How could anyone who had just gotten two dollars for nothing not be happy?
"You have to clean up the mess you made, too," said Evan. "You left trash on the floor."
Jessie closed the door behind her with a defiant slam, then walked across the hall. She was just about to cross the threshold to Evan's room when she froze in midstep. "Wait a minute," she said. "Is this a trick?" It was just the kind of trick she would have thought of to earn an easy dollar.
"No, for Pete's sake!" Evan said. "You have permission to go into my room to clean up the mess!"
There were two scraps of paper on the floor, and Jessie was kicking herself for not having noticed them before. Evan watched her pick up the papers and throw them in his trash can. He still had that look on his face. The one that Jessie couldn't quite figure out. Was it anger? Frustration? Impatience? Suspicion? Maybe Evan was having mixed-up feelings, in which case Jessie knew she couldn't figure them out. One feeling was hard enough to decipher; a whole bunch of them left her completely confused.
When she walked past him on her way back to her room, Evan grabbed her elbow and gave it a shake. "Jess," he said. "Don't do it again. Okay? 'Cause some things are just..." He waved in the general direction of his room, as if that one gesture gathered up everything that was hisâall the bits and pieces of himselfâin one grand sweep of his arm. "Some things are just private. You know?"
Jessie nodded her head. But she didn't have a clue what he was talking about.
Chapter 11
The Silence Was a Bulldozer
metaphor (n) a figure of speech that says that one thing is another different thing as a way to compare the two and note their similarities; for example: "my mother is a battleship" or "school was a rollercoaster"
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Mrs. Overton was sitting at her desk when the class filed in on Friday morning. Evan thought she looked really tired.
"How's Langston?" asked Christopher, dropping his completed love poem in the In basket on Mrs. Overton's desk.
"Better. He was very sick yesterday. We spent the whole day at the animal hospital. He has pneumonia, which is serious for a cat as old as Langston. But the vet gave him some medicine and said he's going to be fine."
A bunch of kids were gathered around Mrs. Overton's desk to hear the latest on Langston's health and to hand in their love poems. Evan noticed another group, mostly girls, huddled around Jessie's desk. They wanted to know if Jessie had finished tallying the results of the survey, but Jessie wasn't giving anything away. Not yet.
Slowly, Evan pulled a piece of paper out of his backpack. He wished
She opened the door again, just a sliver, and handed Evan the dollar through the narrow crack. She hated giving up money, especially when she didn't get anything in return.
"Why'd you come in my room anyway?" asked Evan.
"I needed a piece of paper."
Evan's eyes narrowed to two dark slits. "You mean you went in my desk drawer?"
"Only for a split second!" said Jessie. "I just needed
one piece of paper."
She said the last part as if she was pleading for her life.
"You owe me another dollar!" shouted Evan.
"I do not!"
"Do, too! It's bad enough you went in my room. Now you're snooping around in my desk!"
"I wasn't snooping," said Jessie and meant it with all her heart. She had just wanted a piece of paper. Why did everything have to turn into such a big deal?
"I'm not leaving until you pay me another dollar. And that's the rule from now on."
"Oh, fine," said Jessie. She was starting to get that sick feeling in her stomach when she sensed that something was going wrong but she couldn't figure out exactly what. Was Evan going to ask her about tipping over the wastebasket? Jessie didn't want to talk about that, even though she didn't think she'd done anything wrong.
When she handed Evan the second dollar, he still didn't look pleased. How could anyone who had just gotten two dollars for nothing not be happy?
"You have to clean up the mess you made, too," said Evan. "You left trash on the floor."
Jessie closed the door behind her with a defiant slam, then walked across the hall. She was just about to cross the threshold to Evan's room when she froze in midstep. "Wait a minute," she said. "Is this a trick?" It was just the kind of trick she would have thought of to earn an easy dollar.
"No, for Pete's sake!" Evan said. "You have permission to go into my room to clean up the mess!"
There were two scraps of paper on the floor, and Jessie was kicking herself for not having noticed them before. Evan watched her pick up the papers and throw them in his trash can. He still had that look on his face. The one that Jessie couldn't quite figure out. Was it anger? Frustration? Impatience? Suspicion? Maybe Evan was having mixed-up feelings, in which case Jessie knew she couldn't figure them out. One feeling was hard enough to decipher; a whole bunch of them left her completely confused.
When she walked past him on her way back to her room, Evan grabbed her elbow and gave it a shake. "Jess," he said. "Don't do it again. Okay? 'Cause some things are just..." He waved in the general direction of his room, as if that one gesture gathered up everything that was hisâall the bits and pieces of himselfâin one grand sweep of his arm. "Some things are just private. You know?"
Jessie nodded her head. But she didn't have a clue what he was talking about.
Chapter 11
The Silence Was a Bulldozer
metaphor (n) a figure of speech that says that one thing is another different thing as a way to compare the two and note their similarities; for example: "my mother is a battleship" or "school was a rollercoaster"
Â
Mrs. Overton was sitting at her desk when the class filed in on Friday morning. Evan thought she looked really tired.
"How's Langston?" asked Christopher, dropping his completed love poem in the In basket on Mrs. Overton's desk.
"Better. He was very sick yesterday. We spent the whole day at the animal hospital. He has pneumonia, which is serious for a cat as old as Langston. But the vet gave him some medicine and said he's going to be fine."
A bunch of kids were gathered around Mrs. Overton's desk to hear the latest on Langston's health and to hand in their love poems. Evan noticed another group, mostly girls, huddled around Jessie's desk. They wanted to know if Jessie had finished tallying the results of the survey, but Jessie wasn't giving anything away. Not yet.
Slowly, Evan pulled a piece of paper out of his backpack. He wished
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