How to Be Cool in the Third Grade Page 3

  He had never said, “I want jeans,” or “Don’t call me names,” or “Don’t kiss me at the bus stop.” He had just expected everyone to automatically know what he wanted. He thought of his steps to being cool. Writing things down was not enough.

  “Do it!” a voice inside him said.

  “Mrs. Hines!” said Robbie, “I’ll be right back.” He ran as hard as he could back down the street. “I’ve got to tell my mother something before she leaves for the store.”

  “Mom! Wait!” She was just getting into the car. “Wait, Mom!” He paused to catch his breath.

  “What is it, Robbie?” His mother looked concerned.

  “Mom, I need some jeans.”

  His mother looked up at him. “Do the other kids wear jeans to school?”

  “Yes,” he said. “All of the other kids wear jeans to school.”

  “Well ...” she said. “I guess you need some jeans, too.” She smiled and sat down in the front seat. “Anything else?”

  ANYTHING ELSE!

  Robbie couldn’t believe how easy it had been. Now she was asking him what else he wanted. He thought for a second, then smiled.

  “Underwear,” he said. “PLAIN WHITE underwear.”

  “Plain white underwear,” she repeated. Then she got that “my baby’s growing up” look in her eyes and Robbie took off before it was too late. In another second she would be kissing him.

  “Thanks, Mom,” he said over his shoulder. He headed back to Mrs. Hines and Tobey. The sun was bright now and he wanted to push the stroller.

  They returned from their walk just as his mother got out of the car carrying a large shopping bag.

  Robbie ran to meet her and helped her carry the bag into the house. She began taking things out of the bag. New shirts, a pair of pajamas, two packages of underwear—plain white!

  “You should have seen the mothers at Har kin’s buying underwear!” she said. “Why, I saw three mothers from your third grade class alone!”

  Robbie smiled. He must not have been the only boy with Super Heroes underwear. He looked at the pile on the table. There was something missing. There were no jeans in the pile. His hopes had been too high. His mother must have needed more time to get used to the idea of jeans.

  “Robbie, there’s one more bag in the car. Would you bring it in, please?” Did he dare to hope?

  Robbie ran all the way to the car. He opened the bag so fast that he tore the sides.

  YES!

  Three pairs of jeans fell out onto the driveway. Three perfect pairs of jeans.

  Robbie hugged the jeans to his chest and smiled. He had done it! He carried the jeans up to his room and dropped them on his bed. Then he took off his shorts and tried a pair on. It was perfect. He zipped them up and did two deep knee bends to loosen them up. They felt great.

  He took his notebook out of his backpack and turned to a fresh blank sheet of paper. Carefully he began to copy his list over.

  Time to get a fresh start on being cool!

  After he finished copying the list, he took out a red marker and put a big check by 2. GET JEANS . (AND UNDERWEAR!)

  He was proud of that check mark. One down, two to go. He had actually done one of his steps! But there were two more left to go and he was almost out of time.

  He had to be cool by tomorrow.

  A KISSLESS MORNING

  Robbie woke up early the next morning. No, it hadn’t been a dream. There were his new jeans on the foot of his bed.

  He jumped out of bed and put them on. They felt soft against his legs—just right. He put on his shirt (with a collar). Even it looked great with jeans.

  He pulled out his list and looked at it. The one bright red check mark stood out boldly on the page. “One down,” he said to himself with determination. “Two to go!”

  He looked at the clock. He had fifteen minutes to convince his mother not to come with him to the bus stop.

  Mission Impossible? Nothing is impossible until you try it.

  He hurried downstairs.

  His father was sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper.

  “Where’s Mom?” Robbie asked.

  “She’ll be down in a minute,” said his father. Robbie sat down at the table. If she was still upstairs, then maybe she wasn’t planning to walk him to the bus stop after all.

  “She went upstairs to get her jacket.”

  Yes, she was!

  She came down the stairs carrying her jacket. Maybe there was no hope. He looked at the bowl of oatmeal at his place. “Mom,” he started without looking up, “I’m in third grade now ... do you think I could walk up to the bus stop by myself?”

  There was a moment of silence. Robbie held his breath.

  “Well,” his mother began.

  “I would watch both ways before crossing the street.”

  “Well . . .”

  “I would look out for cars.”

  “Okay.”

  “Not speak to strangers.”

  “Okay.”

  “Not go out into the stree ...”

  His mother laughed. “I said ‘okay!’ You may walk to the bus stop by yourself! After all, you are in third grade now.”

  She smiled at Robbie’s father. That look again! Brother!

  He began to eat. He had done it! Two steps were complete!

  He finished his breakfast, picked up his backpack, and headed out the door to the bus stop. While he waited for the bus, he pulled out his list and put a big red check beside 3. NO KISSES AT THE BUS stop. He was almost cool!

  As the bus pulled around the comer he caught a glimpse of Bo sitting in his usual seat alone. And he wondered if being cool would save him this time.

  A PLAN

  “Here,” Doug called. He had saved Robbie a seat in the first row. Robbie sat down beside Doug and looked back over his shoulder at Bo.

  “What are you going to do?” said Doug. “You can’t be Book Buddies with Bo. No one has ever been Book Buddies with Bo before.”

  “Never?”

  “Never. Everyone is afraid of Bo. You’d better tell Ms. Williams you can’t do it.”

  Robbie had never thought of that. He had told his mother that he wanted jeans and she had bought him jeans. He had told his parents not to walk him to the bus stop and had avoided the kisses. Would it be that easy? Could he just tell Ms. Williams that he couldn’t be a Book Buddy? Not a bad plan.

  “When?” he asked Doug.

  “Right before class,” said Doug. “Catch her before the bell rings.”

  Robbie nodded. He hated not to be a Book Buddy but the thought of going out into the hall with Bo was much worse.

  The bus pulled up. Robbie hurried into the school. He did not wait for the bell like the other children. He walked straight to his classroom.

  “Robbie?” Ms. Williams seemed surprised to see him. “I’m so pleased to have you in my room this year!” She smiled at him.

  Robbie smiled back.

  This would be easy. He would just say, “I can’t be a Book Buddy,” and that would be that. He opened his mouth to speak.

  “And,” she continued, “I’m glad that you will be a Book Buddy this year, especially with Bo Haney.”

  Robbie closed his mouth and blinked. This was not going the way that he had planned.

  “Your last year’s teacher and I chose you for a special reason.”

  “Why?” Robbie asked.

  “Well, you are smart and funny and nice.”

  “I am?”

  “You are. And Bo needs someone special to be his Book Buddy. Someone who won’t make fun of him. It is always hard for the children who are held back.”

  “Oh.”

  Robbie could not say anything for a moment.

  How could he ask not to be a Book Buddy now? He even felt a little bit bad for Bo. Asking would not work this time like the jeans and the bus stop. He had to decide for himself.

  “We’ll start Book Buddies in about fifteen minutes. Did you want to ask me someth
ing, Robbie?”

  The bell rang and the other kids filed in. He had no time to think about it. He couldn’t ask her now. He couldn’t avoid Bo now.

  “No,” said Robbie, “it was nothing.”

  His plan had not worked. He walked back to his desk and put his head down. In fifteen minutes he would be Book Buddies with Bo.

  LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT

  Robbie opened his notebook to a blank page and wrote: LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT. That’s what people wrote before they died. He looked over at Bo. He didn’t have long now. Fifteen minutes at the most.

  To my friend, Doug Daniels, I leave my baseball card collection and my throw-yo.

  To my neighbor, Tobey, I leave my stuffed animals and my G.I. Joe Action Figures.

  To my mother I leave my ...

  “Robbie!” His thoughts were interrupted by Ms. Williams.

  “Robbie, it’s time for Book Buddies.” Ms. Williams waited at the door with the red folder. Bo was standing beside her. He seemed to fill up the opening of the door. This did not look good.

  Robbie got up. He felt the eyes of every student in the class watching him as he walked toward the door.

  “Nice knowing you,” a voice whispered.

  “Good luck, you’ll need it,” said another voice.

  He walked up and stood beside Ms. Williams and Bo. Ms. Williams handed him the red folder. “The first page inside will tell you what to do,” she said. “Bo has worked with Ms. Bebee. Bo knows what to do. Don’t you, Bo?”

  Bo nodded.

  Robbie blinked. He could imagine the things that Bo knew how to do. Slow torture. Knuckle sandwich. Indian sunburn.

  He took the red folder from Ms. Williams and headed out the door behind Bo. The door slammed shut. Robbie followed Bo down the hall. He watched Bo’s shoulders from behind. Bo had muscles—big muscles. The two desks sat by the wall waiting for them. The hall was dark and empty. It looked bigger than usual with no other kids in it. The hall was quiet—too quiet.

  Bo sat down. He filled the small desk like a grown-up. Robbie sat down, too. They looked at each other. He waited for Bo to say something but Bo was silent.

  Robbie had to say something now. The right something. His life depended on it. He had seen a cartoon one time where Bugs Bunny lit a fuse to a storehouse full of dynamite. Elmer Fudd had to put out the fuse before it hit the dynamite. Elmer Fudd danced and stomped on the fuse in desperation but it kept on burning. Robbie felt that kind of desperation now. If he could only say the right thing the fuse would go out.

  What do you say to a bully? He felt like opening his mouth like Baby Tobey and saying, “Waaaaa!” If only he and Bo had one thing in common. One thing to talk about. He looked down at the red folder and saw the name Clyde Elmer Haney. As much as he hated his own name it wasn’t as bad as Clyde Elmer.

  “Is this your name?” He pointed to the folder. As soon as he said it he knew that he had said the wrong something. Bo’s head snapped around. His eyes looked at Robbie with beady sharpness like a falcon coming in for the kill.

  “Yeah!” he snapped. “You want to make something of it?”

  Robbie swallowed. “No,” he said. “I hate my name, too.”

  “What’s your name?” said Bo. “I mean your real name.”

  “Robert, Robert Hayes York.”

  “Huh. That’s not bad. You talk about bad—Clyde Elmer. Now that’s bad.”

  Robbie was having a conversation with Bo.

  “It’s not my real name that I hate,” said Robbie. “It’s my nickname, Robbie. That’s what I hate.”

  “Yeah,” said Bo, nodding. “I would hate that, too. Like Clydie.”

  Robbie giggled.

  “You making fun of me?” The sharpness was back in Bo’s eyes.

  “No!” said Robbie. “You just said something funny.”

  “Yeah,” said Bo. “Right.” Then something amazing happened. The corners of Bo’s mouth turned up! Just a little but Robbie was sure that he had seen it. Bo smiled at Robbie.

  Ssssss! The imaginary fuse went out. The dynamite was not going to blow today.

  Bo grabbed the folder and opened it. “You hold up these cards. I say what’s on them. If I miss, you tell me.”

  Robbie pulled the flash cards out of the folder.

  He noticed that the hall wasn’t completely dark. A ray of light came through the window at the end of the hall and made a small yellow patch on the floor at his feet. He was going to live.

  BEING COOL

  Robbie heard the door to the classroom open.

  He looked down the hall and saw Doug peer around the door. Doug had a green library pass in his hand. Doug had come to check on him.

  “Hey, Robbie,” Doug called as he walked by the two desks. “Are you ... okay?”

  “Hey!” said Bo. “His name’s Rob! And he is fine! Get it? My friend here is fine.”

  Doug’s eyes widened. He didn’t stop as he hurried toward the library. “I get it!” Doug said in a small voice on his way down the hall. “I get it!”

  “Hey,” called Rob as Doug walked away. “Thanks!” He looked back at Bo and held up another card.

  Rob? Bo had changed his name! But not to a name like Squeaky and Al-burp or Wobbie. This time for the better. And when Bo changed a name, it stayed changed!

  He had finished his list! He could put a bright red check by each of the three things:

  Get rid of the name Robbie. Check—thanks to Bo.

  Get jeans. Check. He looked down at his new blue jeans. No one had even noticed them yet.

  No kisses at the bus stop. Check. That didn’t seem so important now.

  So, was he cool now? Yesterday he had thought coolness was an armor against bullies. Maybe it was in a way, but not in the way that he thought. The jeans had not mattered or the kisses or his new name.

  He thought about what Ms. Williams had said. Was he smart? He had been chosen to be a Book Buddy. Was he funny? Bo seemed to think so. Was he nice? Hadn’t he just risked his life to help Bo? He was proud of that. Maybe that’s what being cool was all about.

  “How about this one, Bo?” He held up another card. They had a lot of work to do. He was too busy to worry about being cool.

  It was going to be a great year.

  Betsy Duffey is the author of numerous books for young readers, including Utterly Yours, Booker Jones; The Gadget War; Hey, New Kid!; Virtual Cody; The Math Wiz; and the Pet Patrol series. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia.

  Janet Wilson has illustrated several books by Betsy Duffey, including The Gadget War and The Math Wiz. She lives in Toronto, Canada.