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The Triangle

Yoshi grabbed the roll of paper towels off the snack table. We had just about finished wiping up the yellow paint when Ms. Marzipan tapped her baton on the door and rolled her piano into the room.

Time for music. I cheered up. I glanced at my ring. Red? That was funny. Red meant mad! It was my turn to play the drum, and that always put me in a good mood.

But this time Ms. Marzipan let the new boy choose, and Boris chose the drum.

Tonya got a tambourine, Sofie got castanets, and I got stuck with the triangle. I do not care for that instrument.

“Boris, let’s trade,” I suggested. But Boris said he didn’t feel like it.

We sang a song we had learned especially for the new kid.