Somebody on This Bus Is Going to Be Famous Read Online Free PDF Page A

him I’m really serious. Anyway, I’ll need to bring my grades up a little, so I was wondering if you could help me out with language arts stuff? Like, after school sometimes?”
    â€œOkay. Sure!” Miranda beams, like she was just asked to ride the homecoming float holding a dozen roses. Shelly’s thinking it’s sweet that she wants to help when Kaitlynn pops into the seat in front of them. “I heard you were going to try for a scholarship to Star Camp!”
    â€œ Shooting Star Camp,” Shelly corrects her, glancing at Miranda who raises her eyebrows. “How’d you hear that?”
    â€œYour mom told my mom. And congratulations about the baby! Babies are fun. Except when they have colic and cry all night like my brother Steven did for the first three months.”
    â€œWeren’t you sitting somewhere else?” Shelly asks. Kaitlynn’s wheels are always spinning so fast she doesn’t have a clue how uncool she is, with her stuck-out ears and headbands and skirts that ride low on her skinny hips.
    â€œJust let me tell you my idea. If you want a scholarship, you need lots of service projects. So why don’t you run for Youth Court? I’ll nominate you.”
    Shelly opens her mouth with an automatic no , then hesitates. That’s actually a good point, about service projects. Youth Court is made up of five sixth-graders (plus two alternates) who meet once a week to hear complaints that kids bring up against each other, like bullying, fighting, stealing, and things like that. Candidates have to be nominated by two classmates and a teacher, and the campaign runs from mid-October to the first Tuesday in November.
    â€œI want to run for Youth Court next year,” Kaitlynn is saying, “but I can’t this year, so I’ll manage your campaign. It’ll be good experience for me, and it’ll help you get a scholarship even if you don’t win. I’ve got a great idea for a campaign song—”
    â€œPlease,” Shelly interrupts. “Nobody writes my songs but me. So I’ll think about it, okay?” She turns deliberately to Miranda. “Now, my other bad subject is math, unless you count social studies and science. Do you know anybody who’s good at math? Like, somebody on this bus?”
    Miranda glances around then leans in and lowers her voice—even though, with the groan of the bus as it slows to make the turn onto Farm Road 152, a secret-service listening device couldn’t have picked her up. “Actually, Bender is really good at math.”
    The back tire hits a pothole on the gravel road, making Shelly’s next word jump out like a scared rabbit. “Bender?! He’s good at something?”
    â€œShhhh!” Miranda wiggles her fingers but it’s too late. The subject under discussion creeps up and slides into the seat behind them while Mrs. B isn’t looking.
    â€œDid I hear my name?”
    â€œDid you?” Shelly turns around and flutters her eyelashes. “I was talking about blenders . And how your head would look in one.” His head is large, and usually there’s a lock of dark hair flopping over his wide forehead that always looks dirty. The hair, that is.
    â€œHaw haw.” Bender glances out the window at the little shed that swings into view when the bus backs up. “What’s up with this stop?” he yells at the driver. “It’s been three weeks now, and there’s never anybody here!”
    â€œSit down, Bender!” Mrs. B calls back, even though he’s not standing up.
    He heaves a mighty sigh and throws himself back into his usual seat. From there, he carries on the dispute with Mrs. B as she pulls away from the shed and starts back up the gravel road. “We average two minutes and forty-three seconds a day doing this! Do you know how much that is for the whole year?”
    â€œHow do you know he’s good at math?” Shelly