Read Online Dimples Delight by Frieda Wishinsky - Free Book Online Page A

sitting in the first row. He was drawing pictures of dinosaurs on the back of a notepad. Stewart loves dinosaurs.
    Stewart didn’t hear me, but Ms. Parks did.
    â€œIs there something you’d like to share with the class, Lawrence?” she barked.
    â€œNo,” I stammered.
    â€œThen why aren’t you busy writing?” she asked.
    â€œMy pencil broke,” I said.
    â€œWell, go to the back of the room and sharpen it,” she said.

    I stood up. My heart thumped. I walked fast.
    Just as I thought I’d made it past Joe, I tripped. My head crashed into Lily Malone’s like a rock.
    â€œOuch!” Lilly screamed.
    â€œOw!” I groaned.
    Ms. Parks rushed to our side.
    â€œAre you okay?” she asked.
    â€œNo,” said Lilly. “He broke my head.”
    â€œYour head is not broken,” said Ms. Parks. “But go to the office and get an ice pack so you don’t have a bump. You too, Lawrence.”
    â€œI’m fine,” I said, though my head ached.
    â€œAre you sure, Lawrence?” asked Ms. Parks.
    â€œYes,” I said.
    I wasn’t going to show Joe I was hurt. I wasn’t going to give him anything else to tease me about.
    â€œIs this what you tripped on?” Ms. Parks asked, picking up a book.
    â€œYes,” I said.
    Ms. Parks looked inside. “This belongs to you, Joe,” she said. “How did it land on the floor?”
    â€œI must have dropped it,” said Joe. His voice was so sweet you could have eaten it on cereal.
    Ms. Parks did not look impressed.
    â€œPut it away,” she said, handing Joe his book.
    I walked to my seat. My head really hurt. But it hurt even more to know that Joe dropped the book on purpose. He enjoyed every minute of it.

Chapter Two
Forget About Him
    At recess, Stewart and I played catch. I forgot about Joe for a few minutes.
    Someone tapped me hard on my shoulder.
    I spun around.
    It was Joe.
    â€œHow’s Dimples’ little boo-boo?” he asked.
    â€œStop calling me that,” I said.
    â€œNow don’t get so excited,” he sneered. “It makes your face look like a tomato—a tomato with worm holes.”
    â€œCut it out,” I said, trying to stay cool. My face was burning again.
    Joe laughed. “Come on, Dimple Boy. Don’t cry.” He blasted his words across the playground like a trumpet. Three boys stopped playing ball and laughed.
    â€œStop it!” I screamed.
    â€œRelax, Dimple Boy,” said Joe, “or your tomato face might explode. That would be gross!”
    The three boys playing ball laughed louder. “Bye-bye, Dimple Boy,” Joe called. He ran off to play with his friend Andrew.
    I wanted to run, but I couldn’t move my feet. I wanted to hide from the sound of those three boys laughing, but my feet wouldn’t let me. All I could see was Joe’s face.
    Stewart yanked my sleeve. “Come on, Lawrence,” he said. “Forget about him. He’s a creep. Let’s play ball.”
    â€œYou’re right,” I said. “He is a creep.”
    I followed Stewart to a quiet spot at the back of the playground. We tossed a ball back and forth.I tried to forget about Joe. By the end of recess, I almost had.
    But at lunch, Joe was back. He leaned over my table. His stringy black hair almost dipped into my strawberry yogurt.
    â€œUgh!” he said, pointing to the yogurt. “Look at Dimples’ girly food. It’s all pink and gooey.”

    I ignored him, but the yogurt began to taste sour. I couldn’t eat it. I put down my spoon.
    â€œHey,” said Stewart. “Can I have your yogurt if you don’t want it? I love yogurt. All my mom ever makes me are peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches on white bread.”
    â€œSure,” I said, handing Stewart the yogurt.
    He wolfed it down in four spoonfuls. It’s amazing how much Stewart can eat and still stay as skinny as a toothpick.
    That’s what