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

he calls himself, The Amazing Food-Gobbling Toothpick.
    â€œDon’t let Joe bother you,” Stewart mumbled between bites of his chocolate donut.
    â€œBut he does bother me. I hate it when he teases me,” I said.
    â€œHe knows you hate it. You should see the happy look on his face. If you ignore him, he’ll stop bugging you.”
    â€œHow do I ignore him?” I asked Stewart.
    â€Watch me,” said Stewart. “Call me a name.”
    â€œHey, Toothpick.”
    Stewart didn’t look at me. He just kept eating.
    â€œNow call me a mean and nasty name. Something really bad,” said Stewart.
    â€œHey, Slobber Mouth. Four Eyes. Pig Face,” I said.
    Stewart finished his donut and opened his milk carton as if he were deaf.
    â€œThat’s good,” he said. “Try a few more. Even meaner.”
    â€œPuke Head. Drool Face. Fat Lips,” I said.
    â€œGreat,” said Stewart. “Now I’ll call you names so when Joe does, you’ll be ready.”
    Stewart called me Bonzo Brain, Stupid Head, Dog Breath and twenty other disgusting names.
    I ignored every one.
    â€œSee, it’s not so hard,” said Stewart.
    â€œYou’re right,“ I said. “I can do it! I will do it! Starting tomorrow!”

Chapter Three
Wherever You Go
    Today I will ignore Joe, I told myself all the way to school the next day.
    Today, no matter what mean, gross names Joe calls me, I will be cold like an iceberg, deaf like a mummy, silent like a grave. Today I will do it!
    I strode into class like a cowboy, ready to face the bad guys.
    I looked around. No sign of Joe or Andrew.
    I bent down to toss my schoolbag in my cubby. Something greasy touched my head. It was Joe. His hair dangled above me like black spaghetti.
    He laughed.
    â€œHow wide are those dimples?” he said.
    I ignored him.
    â€œCome on, Andrew,” said Joe. “Let’s measure Lawrence’s dimples.”
    Joe pulled a ruler out of his schoolbag.
    â€œVoila!” he said, aiming his ruler at me like a sword.
    I stood up and, cool as an iceberg, walked to my seat.
    Joe was right behind me.
    â€œScared?” he said, waving his ruler in my face.
    Deaf as a mummy, I said nothing.
    â€œDimple Boy is a chicken,” sang Joe.
    Silent as a grave, I did not answer.
    Joe began clucking and circling me. He flapped his arms like a crazy chicken. Andrew clucked and flapped too.
    I was still deaf and silent, but the cool was going. Fast. No matter how hard I tried not to let it, my face was burning.
    The more they clucked and circled, the redder I got.
    Lilly and Frank, who sat beside Joe, began to laugh. Sweat poured down my face like hot sauce.
    I didn’t know how much more I could take.

    Ms. Parks walked in. The clucking and flapping stopped.
    For the next two hours I was safe.
    Then it was recess.
    As soon as the bell rang, Stewart dashed over to me.
    â€œFollow me. Run!” Stewart whispered.
    Stewart and I ran as fast as we could to the back of the schoolyard. We crawled under some bushes near a big shady maple.
    We dropped to the ground.
    â€œStay here,” said Stewart. “I’ll see if we’re safe.”
    Stewart crawled out to peek. He came back.
    â€œNo sign of them,” he said.
    â€œPhew,” I said.
    â€œWant to hear a dinosaur joke?” asked Stewart.
    â€œSure,” I said.
    â€œWhy did the dinosaur paint his toenails ten different colors?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œTo hide in the jelly-bean jar,” said Stewart. He began to laugh.
    I laughed too. I laughed harder and louder than I’d ever laughed at any dinosaur joke before. Soon Stewart and I were rolling on the ground, laughing.
    â€œWhat’s the matter with Dimples? Has he got ants in his pants?” said a voice.
    Stewart and I stopped rolling and laughing.
    Joe and Andrew crawled through the bushes.
    â€œHiding, Dimples?” asked Joe.
    â€œFrom us?”