SQUAWK.
It’s Savannah. Her squeak became a SQUAWK.
“Where’d the p-p-p-p-picture of m-m-m-my m-m-m-mom go?”
My whole body turns red.
Savannah’s lower lip tucks in. Behind her spare glasses, I can see her eyes up close. They are getting wettish.
Mrs. D. rushes over. “Savannah, dear! Something happened and your photo was ruined, but don’t worry! I called your father. He said he had an extra copy and that you could bring it tomorrow.” She gives Savannah her Cinnamon Roll smile. Warm and sweet.
I wrap my arm around Savannah. “You okay?” I ask in a Mommy voice. Because she doesn’t know I’m the something that happened to her photo.
Savannah nods.
But Mrs. D. gives me the Lime Popsicle look. Cold and sour. “You know what to do next, Lola,” she says.
I am going to the principal’s office again. On my way, I pass my own desk. Something is taped to it. An envelope. It says:
Lola,
Please deliver to Mrs. Zelda Zuckerman. Have her sign it and return it. I need it before our field trip.
Mrs. DeBenedetti
That seems like the worst part of bad. But the other worst part of bad is Savannah.
At the end of the day, Savannah slips a packet of jelly beans in my hand. “Those are from California,” she says. “When you miss your mom, you can eat one of those and feel better.”
If I did eat one, I just might be the saddest bad girl in the whole world.
