The Trouble with Mark Hopper Read Online Free PDF

chewing. “What? Who cares?” she asked. The other girls crossed their arms and gave one another looks. One of them rolled her eyes and became very involved in looking through her book bag.
    â€œWell, I am,” Mark said. “See you around.” As he walked away, he heard the girls laughing, and he could have sworn he heard one of them say something about meeting all the freaks. Well, he didn’t want to be friends with people who weren’t open to meeting new people anyway.

    In the meantime, Mark Hopper arrived at Ivy Road with his eyes wide as ever. The school was so big, and the hallways were wide and crowded with students who were hugging and talking and comparing summer stories. He wished he had Sammy by his side, at least to help him find his locker and sit with at lunch. Reminding himself that most the sixth graders knew hardly anyone helped him feel a bit more confident. He hoped his teachers wouldn’t be harsh about people being late; looking around the maze of hallways, he was sure it would take him at least a week to get used to where to go. A big kid in an Ivy Road Roadrunners jacket bumped into him. “Watch it, little guy,” he said. Mark apologized and stared after him, unsure of what to do. He turned in a complete circle, watching students open their lockers and put their jackets and some notebooks inside. That was it: he should find his locker. He took out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. Locker 322. He tried to get a look at the number on a locker nearby but his view was obstructed by a passing group of girls in matching cheerleader outfits: short skirts and tight tops with the letters I and R printed across them. He looked at the place on his wrist where a watch should have been. Did he have time to try to find his locker, or should he just try to find his homeroom? Maybe he should ask someone for the time. A girl who looked about his age was consulting a sheet of paper right near him. She had her long black hair in hundreds of tiny braids. “Excuse me,” Mark said.
    The girl turned and smiled at him. Her braids swished. “You look lost,” she said.
    â€œI’m new,” Mark said. He felt himself turning red.
    â€œMe too. All the sixth graders are.” She said it kindly. “Have you found your locker yet?”
    â€œNo. Do you have any idea where number 322 might be?”
    The girl’s smile became a grin. “I think it should be right near mine. I’m 326. I’m Jasmina,” she said. “Let’s go this way.”
    Mark walked alongside her. “Thanks,” Mark said. “My name’s Mark.”
    â€œHuh,” said Jasmina. “There’s another kid named Mark whose locker is right near ours, too. I think he’s number 322.”
    â€œI’m 322,” Mark said.
    â€œOh yeah,” said Jasmina. “Maybe he’s 323 or something. Hey! All right. Here it is. Well, here’s 326 anyway. Three twenty-two must be close.”
    Mark thanked her and went one panel over to locker 322. He knelt down and entered the combination: 36-4-18. The lock opened without a problem and Mark let out a grateful sigh, even though he didn’t really have anything to put in it. When he pulled open the door, however, his mouth dropped open. His locker was equipped with fancy shelves. He looked around to see if anybody else had shelves, but he couldn’t tell. On the shelves, however, were three binders, each a different color. He didn’t remember anything saying he had to share a locker. Could they have mistakenly assigned this locker to two people? Though he felt like he was snooping around someone’s room, he reached for one of the binders. “Holy . . .” he muttered. On the cover was a printed sticker that said PROPERTY OF MARK GEOFFREY HOPPER. PRIVATE AND NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. Was this a joke? He tried to look around to see if anybody else had binders labeled especially for