Read Online A Sliver of Sun by Dianna Dorisi Winget - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Dianna Dorisi Winget
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white board. “Good morning, Ramsay. Glad you could join us. Do you have a late pass?”
Ramsay swept the bangs from his eyes. “Uh, no ma’am.”
Angela snickered.
“Well, I’m afraid you’ll need to go to the office and get one. And hurry back because I’m about to assign reading partners.”
Ramsay turned my way as he stood, but I looked away real fast. It made me feel a pinch guilty, as most of the kids ignored him. But there was no way I was giving Ginger any more fuel to add to her fire from last night.
“All right now,” Mrs. Holloway said, “where were we? Oh yes, here’s how our first quarter reading assignment will work, boys and girls. I’m going to pair each of you with a partner and assign each pair a different book. For one hour each morning, y’all will read and make notes on your book. Then at the end of the month, you’ll each write a book report. One of which will be read to the class as an oral report.”
A noisy groan filled the air, but our teacher only smiled and started pointing. “Robert and Clarice, you’ll be a pair. Brian and Jacob.”
I white knuckled my chair, waiting to see who’d I get stuck with for a partner, and praying it wouldn’t be Ginger.
“Kinsey and Ramona. Ginger and Angela. Piper Lee and … Ramsay.”
Ramsay!
I gritted my teeth so hard I was afraid my jaws might crack.
Ginger and Rowdy started twittering behind me, and a fire storm rushed my face. But Mrs. Holloway didn’t seem to notice a thing. She just kept naming names ‘til everybody was paired up, then she started walking around, passing out books.
Ramsay made it back to class just in time for our teacher to hand both of us a copy of
To Kill a Mockingbird
. He flashed me another half-second smile—just like when I’d picked up his pencil—but my jaw was still clenched too tight to even think about smiling back.
“Oh, n-o-o-o!” Angela shrieked. “I hate this book, Mrs. H.”
Even though Mrs. Holloway had given permission to call her Mrs. H, it was the first time anybody had actually done it. And it sounded mighty strange … daring almost. We all whipped around to see Angela holding up a copy of
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
, looking at it like it was some big disgusting tomato worm.
“You’ve read it?” Mrs. Holloway asked.
“No, but I hate Mark Twain.”
Our teacher flinched. “Samuel Clemons is one of the greatest story tellers ever, Angela. Why would you hate him?”
“Because it takes him twenty pages to describe somebody’s front yard. I can’t stand lots of details like that. I want another book.”
“And what kind of books do you like to read, Angela?”
“The kind they make into movies.”
Ginger’s giggle rang out above the rest of the laughter. “Huckleberry Finn
is
a movie, silly,” she blurted. “Don’t y’know?”
Everybody really cracked up then—except for Angela. She didn’t even smile. She slowly swiveled Ginger’s direction with a dirty-eyed scowl that wiped the grin right off Ginger’s face.
“I believe Ginger is right,” Mrs. Holloway said, “there is a movie version. But even on the printed page, I guarantee the story has plenty of action. Give it a try.”
Angela shrugged. “I’ll fall asleep if I try to read a book like this. Just give me a zero.”
Mrs. Holloway seemed to suddenly grow taller the way she drew herself up, and all the snickering and smirking skidded to a stop. Ginger’s eyes darted back and forth between Angela and our teacher, kinda like a mouse with a hawk circling overhead.
“The book report will be a significant part of your grade,” Mrs. Holloway said, “so I think you’d regret getting a zero, Angela. But aside from that, our reading time takes up an hour each morning, it’s something we do as a class. So, you can either take part along with everyone else, or you can spend that hour in detention each day with our principal, Mr. Hoffmeister. I’ll leave the choice up to you.”
I didn’t know
Ramsay swept the bangs from his eyes. “Uh, no ma’am.”
Angela snickered.
“Well, I’m afraid you’ll need to go to the office and get one. And hurry back because I’m about to assign reading partners.”
Ramsay turned my way as he stood, but I looked away real fast. It made me feel a pinch guilty, as most of the kids ignored him. But there was no way I was giving Ginger any more fuel to add to her fire from last night.
“All right now,” Mrs. Holloway said, “where were we? Oh yes, here’s how our first quarter reading assignment will work, boys and girls. I’m going to pair each of you with a partner and assign each pair a different book. For one hour each morning, y’all will read and make notes on your book. Then at the end of the month, you’ll each write a book report. One of which will be read to the class as an oral report.”
A noisy groan filled the air, but our teacher only smiled and started pointing. “Robert and Clarice, you’ll be a pair. Brian and Jacob.”
I white knuckled my chair, waiting to see who’d I get stuck with for a partner, and praying it wouldn’t be Ginger.
“Kinsey and Ramona. Ginger and Angela. Piper Lee and … Ramsay.”
Ramsay!
I gritted my teeth so hard I was afraid my jaws might crack.
Ginger and Rowdy started twittering behind me, and a fire storm rushed my face. But Mrs. Holloway didn’t seem to notice a thing. She just kept naming names ‘til everybody was paired up, then she started walking around, passing out books.
Ramsay made it back to class just in time for our teacher to hand both of us a copy of
To Kill a Mockingbird
. He flashed me another half-second smile—just like when I’d picked up his pencil—but my jaw was still clenched too tight to even think about smiling back.
“Oh, n-o-o-o!” Angela shrieked. “I hate this book, Mrs. H.”
Even though Mrs. Holloway had given permission to call her Mrs. H, it was the first time anybody had actually done it. And it sounded mighty strange … daring almost. We all whipped around to see Angela holding up a copy of
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
, looking at it like it was some big disgusting tomato worm.
“You’ve read it?” Mrs. Holloway asked.
“No, but I hate Mark Twain.”
Our teacher flinched. “Samuel Clemons is one of the greatest story tellers ever, Angela. Why would you hate him?”
“Because it takes him twenty pages to describe somebody’s front yard. I can’t stand lots of details like that. I want another book.”
“And what kind of books do you like to read, Angela?”
“The kind they make into movies.”
Ginger’s giggle rang out above the rest of the laughter. “Huckleberry Finn
is
a movie, silly,” she blurted. “Don’t y’know?”
Everybody really cracked up then—except for Angela. She didn’t even smile. She slowly swiveled Ginger’s direction with a dirty-eyed scowl that wiped the grin right off Ginger’s face.
“I believe Ginger is right,” Mrs. Holloway said, “there is a movie version. But even on the printed page, I guarantee the story has plenty of action. Give it a try.”
Angela shrugged. “I’ll fall asleep if I try to read a book like this. Just give me a zero.”
Mrs. Holloway seemed to suddenly grow taller the way she drew herself up, and all the snickering and smirking skidded to a stop. Ginger’s eyes darted back and forth between Angela and our teacher, kinda like a mouse with a hawk circling overhead.
“The book report will be a significant part of your grade,” Mrs. Holloway said, “so I think you’d regret getting a zero, Angela. But aside from that, our reading time takes up an hour each morning, it’s something we do as a class. So, you can either take part along with everyone else, or you can spend that hour in detention each day with our principal, Mr. Hoffmeister. I’ll leave the choice up to you.”
I didn’t know
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