“Nick, pass me the tape, would you?” Robyn called from the table where she was working. A whole bunch of kids, including Nick, Robyn, Cray and I, were helping with the week-long literacy fair. Since we still didn’t know if Mrs. Pringle would be at our school next year, Ms. Thorsen decided to get things rolling. We were going to have storytelling, a used book sale and a carnival of reading games.
We had parent volunteers, whole classrooms digging up used books, posters, and an advertisement in the school newsletter. Mrs. Pringle had been right, it was a lot of work.
Robyn brushed her hands off on her jeans, leaving a trail of silver sparkles from the poster she’d just finished. “What do you think?” she said, showing me the poster. It was a picture of a kid reading a book, with a castle and dragon in a thought bubble.
“It’s great,” I said. “But you got the date wrong.”
“What!” Robyn panicked and checked the poster. “I did not, you doofus!”
“I think it’s wonderful,” Mrs. Pringle said, coming up behind us. “And I wanted to thank you kids for caring enough about me to try to find that hockey book. The school has decided to keep the Gretzky book, and it will go in a glass display in our library.”
“What about—” Robyn started, and then stopped herself.
“The detective series?” Mrs. Pringle finished. “Well, I’ve talked to the principal. We’ve decided to sell the series and put the money toward a lunch program for kids who need it.”
“Really?” Cray perked up. “That’s great!”
Mrs. Pringle smiled. “And whatever the literacy fair raises will go to new books for our library, so everything’s turned out just fine.”
Robyn frowned. “Except that we still don’t know if you’ll be at our school next year.”
“It doesn’t seem as important now, after what Blake did,” Mrs. Pringle said. “He worried so much about it—and look what happened.”
“Is he in a lot of trouble?” Robyn ventured.
“Enough,” Mrs. Pringle said grimly. “But the school isn’t pressing charges. The truth is, I really would have tossed those books out, thinking they were worthless. So it’s funny, if Blake hadn’t taken them, the school wouldn’t be getting any money.”
We were silent for a second, thinking about that.
“I’m hungry,” Nick said at last.
Robyn reached into her backpack. “I have half a pickle sandwich left from lunch.” She unwrapped the wax paper and held it out.
Nick looked at it with distaste. “Yuck, Robyn. You forgot the cheese again.”
Robyn took a bite with relish, but Cray grabbed his own backpack. “That reminds me. I brought a snack just for you guys,” he said.
Nick sighed with relief. Cray pulled a box out of his backpack and ripped it open. He grinned and held up a plastic-wrapped package.
“Blue Twinkies, anyone?”