question of who would play the part of the evil queen.
But I even had an answer ready for that: Mrs. Hunter, of course. Mrs. Hunter could play the evil queen herself. There was no reason why she shouldn’t. She wasn’t doing anything during the performance, anyway, except running around making sure we had our props, like Erica’s reusable cloth shopping bags and such, and seeing that we got onto the stage on time, and opening and closing the curtains.
But Mrs. Jenkins could do all that. She was only the principal, after all.
And yes, I did feel bad for Sophie. Of course I did.
But she had made her own misfortune by letting her celebrity go to her head. I mean, my mother was the star of a local cable television program, but had I let that go to my head and become super bossy and started telling my friends that I hated them? No.
Sophie really had no one to blame but herself.
“But has Mrs. Hunter asked you to take over Sophie’s part?” Mom inquired that day at lunch. Because I’d brought down my flower-girl dress for her to iron, assuring her I was going to be needing it that night at the open house.
“Well,” I said. “Not officially. But I’m positive she’s going to.”
“Oh, honey.” Mom took the dress from me. “If she hasn’t asked you, I really don’t think you should get your hopes up.”
“But, Mom,” I said, “there’s no one else she can ask. Cheyenne has been acting horribly lately. There’s no way Mrs. Hunter is going to ask her to play Princess Penelope. And I’m the next-best actress in the whole class. I mean, not to be a braggart or anything.”
“She really is good, Mom,” Kevin chimed in from the kitchen counter, where he was eating grilled cheese. “You should see her. She killed.”
“Well, I hope you’re right,” Mom said. “Because I hate to see you disappointed. And your father was really looking forward to seeing you in his Dracula cape.”
“This will be much better,” I assured her. “You’ll see.”
It had been hard walking a sobbing Sophie home for lunch. Mainly because I’d been waiting for her to apologize for saying she hated me, only she hadn’t. Not even once. Possibly because she’d been crying so hard over losing the part of Princess Penelope. Still, you would have thought she’d stop to think about my feelings, for a change.
We’d tried to support her as best we could, telling her that maybe Mrs. Hunter would change her mind.
But of course I for one didn’t really believe that. I suspected Sophie had been rehearsing the part of Princess Penelope so much she had actually temporarily turned into a princess herself and thought she could start telling other people what to do (like me with my shoes for my evil queen costume) and had failed to remember the number one rule— Treat people the way you yourself would like to be treated (like the way she’d told me that she hated me).
Especially since Sophie refused even to consider apologizing to me. She kept saying she thought Mrs. Hunter should apologize to her for taking her out of the play.
She never even mentioned apologizing to me.
Oh, yes. The part of Princess Penelope was going to be mine, all right.
Erica was really worried about Sophie—especially when we were walking back to school after lunch, and Caroline appeared all alone at the stop sign where we usually met to walk to Pine Heights together.
“Sophie’s mom says she made herself too sick from crying to come back to school,” Caroline explained worriedly. “So she has a stomachache and is going to stay home for the rest of the day.”
“Oh, no!” Erica cried. “That’s terrible.”
“Well,” I said philosophically, “Sophie brought it on herself. She should have apologized to all of us for being so bossy.” I didn’t mention that she should have apologized to me for saying she hated me. That seemed like it should have been a given.
“Yes,” Caroline said. “But don’t you think the whole thing was only
But I even had an answer ready for that: Mrs. Hunter, of course. Mrs. Hunter could play the evil queen herself. There was no reason why she shouldn’t. She wasn’t doing anything during the performance, anyway, except running around making sure we had our props, like Erica’s reusable cloth shopping bags and such, and seeing that we got onto the stage on time, and opening and closing the curtains.
But Mrs. Jenkins could do all that. She was only the principal, after all.
And yes, I did feel bad for Sophie. Of course I did.
But she had made her own misfortune by letting her celebrity go to her head. I mean, my mother was the star of a local cable television program, but had I let that go to my head and become super bossy and started telling my friends that I hated them? No.
Sophie really had no one to blame but herself.
“But has Mrs. Hunter asked you to take over Sophie’s part?” Mom inquired that day at lunch. Because I’d brought down my flower-girl dress for her to iron, assuring her I was going to be needing it that night at the open house.
“Well,” I said. “Not officially. But I’m positive she’s going to.”
“Oh, honey.” Mom took the dress from me. “If she hasn’t asked you, I really don’t think you should get your hopes up.”
“But, Mom,” I said, “there’s no one else she can ask. Cheyenne has been acting horribly lately. There’s no way Mrs. Hunter is going to ask her to play Princess Penelope. And I’m the next-best actress in the whole class. I mean, not to be a braggart or anything.”
“She really is good, Mom,” Kevin chimed in from the kitchen counter, where he was eating grilled cheese. “You should see her. She killed.”
“Well, I hope you’re right,” Mom said. “Because I hate to see you disappointed. And your father was really looking forward to seeing you in his Dracula cape.”
“This will be much better,” I assured her. “You’ll see.”
It had been hard walking a sobbing Sophie home for lunch. Mainly because I’d been waiting for her to apologize for saying she hated me, only she hadn’t. Not even once. Possibly because she’d been crying so hard over losing the part of Princess Penelope. Still, you would have thought she’d stop to think about my feelings, for a change.
We’d tried to support her as best we could, telling her that maybe Mrs. Hunter would change her mind.
But of course I for one didn’t really believe that. I suspected Sophie had been rehearsing the part of Princess Penelope so much she had actually temporarily turned into a princess herself and thought she could start telling other people what to do (like me with my shoes for my evil queen costume) and had failed to remember the number one rule— Treat people the way you yourself would like to be treated (like the way she’d told me that she hated me).
Especially since Sophie refused even to consider apologizing to me. She kept saying she thought Mrs. Hunter should apologize to her for taking her out of the play.
She never even mentioned apologizing to me.
Oh, yes. The part of Princess Penelope was going to be mine, all right.
Erica was really worried about Sophie—especially when we were walking back to school after lunch, and Caroline appeared all alone at the stop sign where we usually met to walk to Pine Heights together.
“Sophie’s mom says she made herself too sick from crying to come back to school,” Caroline explained worriedly. “So she has a stomachache and is going to stay home for the rest of the day.”
“Oh, no!” Erica cried. “That’s terrible.”
“Well,” I said philosophically, “Sophie brought it on herself. She should have apologized to all of us for being so bossy.” I didn’t mention that she should have apologized to me for saying she hated me. That seemed like it should have been a given.
“Yes,” Caroline said. “But don’t you think the whole thing was only
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