Sophie would much rather be outside, jumping rope and being awesome. She definitely did not want to be inside, listening to Ms. Moffly tell her how much trouble she was in.
At times like this, Sophie wished she were back in second grade. She missed her teacher, Mrs. Cruz, a lot. It wasn’t that Ms. Moffly was mean. Not exactly. But she sure had a lot of third-grade rules.
“There you are, Sophie,” said Ms. Moffly. She was waiting for Sophie just outside the classroom door. “I believe we have something to talk about, don’t we?”
Sophie sighed. “Yes, Ms. Moffly.” She looked at her teacher’s shoes. They had little heels and were blue and shiny.
“You were jumping in the stairwell?” Ms. Moffly asked.
“Yes,” Sophie said. She thought about how nice it would be to have shoes just like Ms. Moffly’s.
“And I hope you understand now why that is against the rules,” Ms. Moffly went on.
“Yes,” Sophie said. She’d also like those shoes in green, she decided. And maybe red.
“I hope that when you earn back your hallway privilege next week, this won’t happen again,” said Ms. Moffly.
“Yes,” Sophie said. “I mean, no. I mean—What was the question?”
Oops.
Ms. Moffly knelt down until they were exactly nose to nose and smiled. “I’m just glad that you’re okay. No more jumping,” she said.
Sophie nodded and smiled back. Inside, she sighed a relieved sigh.
“Now then,” Ms. Moffly went on. “It’s time to get to work.” She led Sophie into the classroom. “Okay, class. Settle down and get out your notebooks. Archie and Toby, please sit down. We’re interviewing this afternoon, remember?”
Oh, right! Sophie had forgotten. Sydney’s mom had come in the week before and talked about her job. She was a reporter for the newspaper and she interviewed people a lot. That meant that she asked lots of questions. To Sophie, that sounded like a really fun job.
The best part, Sydney’s mom said, was when a reporter got a “scoop.” That meant they got an answer that no one else had ever gotten.
Sophie had asked if it meant they got a scoop of ice cream, too.
“Unfortunately, no,” Sydney’s mom had said, laughing a little.
Still, Sophie liked the sound of a reporter’s job. And so did Ms. Moffly. So much, in fact, that she thought the class should give it a try. They had come up with questions on Friday. And now they were going to try them out on their classmates.
And what better day for Sophie to be interviewed than the one when she became Sophie the Awesome? Or almost awesome, anyway.
She grabbed her notebook, jotted down an extra question, and ran over to Kate. Of course they would interview each other. She could give Kate a really huge, really awesome scoop!
Then Ms. Moffly spoke again.
“Not so fast, everyone,” she said. “I’ve chosen interview partners for you. Grace, you’ll be with Ben. Sophie A., you’ll be with Kate. Sophie M., you’ll be with Toby …”
Sophie didn’t hear a word she said after that.
Toby? Toby! No! she screamed inside her head. She couldn’t even look at Toby. How could she interview him?
She glanced toward Toby’s desk. He was pretending to throw up in his hands.
No. This was not going to work—at all. Sophie squared her shoulders and walked up to Ms. Moffly’s desk.
“Er … Ms. Moffly,” she said. “I need another partner.”
“Excuse me?” said Ms. Moffly.
“You put me with Toby,” Sophie explained. “And I can’t interview him.”
“You can’t?” asked Ms. Moffly. “Why not?”
Why not? thought Sophie. She didn’t know where to begin!
“Because we don’t talk,” Sophie said simply.
“Ah, yes, I’ve noticed,” said Ms. Moffly. “But that’s perfect, don’t you think? You’ll get to know each other better.”
Better? Sophie shook her head. “Oh, I know all about him already,” she said.
And she did. She knew that he was a big, giant pain in the neck.
“I see,” said Ms. Moffly. “But I’ll bet there are some things you still don’t know….”
“No, there aren’t,” said Sophie quickly. “I’ve known him since preschool.” She glanced at Toby again, then turned back to Ms. Moffly and said very softly, “We used to be best friends.”
Sophie didn’t say it, but something had happened the year before. Toby had stopped talking to her—and started laughing at her instead. Now he acted like he hated her. And Sophie didn’t act back. She just plain hated him.
Still, Sophie knew every single boring thing there was to know about Toby. She knew that his favorite color was red. She knew that he loved pistachio ice cream and that he hated anything chocolate. She knew that the scar on his cheek came from tripping in the sandbox. And she even knew his big family secret: His cousin, Dylan, had eleven toes!
But most of all, she knew that he was a big, giant pain in the neck.
“There is nothing,” Sophie told Ms. Moffly, “that I don’t know about Toby.”
“I see,” said Ms. Moffly. She put one finger on the side of her chin, and Sophie admired her pink nail polish. “Well, let’s see how good a reporter you can be, then, Sophie. Try to find out something you didn’t know before!”
She smiled down at Sophie. It was the same smile Sophie’s mom had whenever she gave her a new chore.
Sophie turned and sulked off slowly.
She couldn’t believe it. How could she be awesome now, when she was paired with the worst partner in the class?