The Whole Story of Half a Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

right?” Heather crosses her arms, pleased with herself.
    “Uh, no.” I start to explain, but thankfully we hear the gears of the yellow bus lumbering up the hill. Everyone turns to watch. It comes to a cranky, squeaky stop and we all climb on. Cindy and Heather head toward the back with the tall boy. I sit in the first empty seat I see in the front. I can’t believe I’ll have to wait at the bus stop with Cindy and Heather every day.

chapter six
    When we arrive in front of Maplewood Middle School, I see at least a hundred kids, some still on the buses lined up along the sidewalk, some gathered in clusters on the school stairs, others playing with hacky sacks or skateboards.
    I push my way past the groups and walk in, my heart racing, the saliva gone from my tongue. I’m supposed to go to the main office first, so someone can escort me to my classroom, but I don’t see it. I visited the school a week before with Mom, and I thought it was to my right. But now I only see two closed brown doors, no open area with a woman sitting at the front desk. I clutch the registration slip that lists my schedule.
    A bell rings and tons of kids come barreling through the front glass doors. I stand still, hoping not to be trampled. A girl runs into me, knocks my backpack clean off my shoulder,and doesn’t say she’s sorry. The top isn’t zipped all the way and out tumble my notebook and lunch. Before I can bend down to pick them up, another kid steps on my lunch bag as he runs. In a flash everybody is gone, tucked away in classrooms. I gather up my stuff, walk around the corner, and continue down a long hallway. All I can hear are the echoing voices of people inside classrooms like ghosts in the walls.
    I walk faster and faster and feel a little dizzy. I make a left, then another right, and walk down a few more hallways, knowing that I’ve lost my starting point. I start to run, though I’m not sure if I’m running toward something or away from it, and just as I round another corner I run smack into a grown-up.
    “And where are you supposed to be?” a tall man in a gray sweat suit asks me. He has a basketball under his arm and sparkly blue eyes.
    I try to speak, but my throat catches on a bump of air. I swallow and start again. “I, where’s the …?” is all I can manage, so I just thrust the registration slip at him.
    He takes the paper, looks at it, and frowns. “Oh, I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong school.”
    “But my mom—” Before I can finish, or cry, or do anything else, he puts a heavy, warm hand on my shoulder.
    “I’m just kidding. Your homeroom’s actually right over there, Mrs. Langley’s,” he says, grinning, and points to ayellow door a little ways down the hallway. I’d like to be mad at him, but his smile nearly jumps off his face.
    “Really?”
    “You’re in the right place”—he looks at my paper for a second—“Miss Nadhamuni.” My heart lights up. He says it perfectly. “I’m Mr. Totono, your friendly neighborhood gym teacher.” I follow him to Mrs. Langley’s classroom and he opens the door. If more people are like this guy here, I think, it might not be so bad.
    “Mrs. Langley,” Mr. Totono says, “may I present Miss Sonia Nadhamuni.”
    Mrs. Langley is standing to the side of her desk. She’s only inches taller than I am, with short salt-and-pepper hair and a nose that looks like a pig’s. She clasps her hands in front of her brown dress and grimaces.
    “Welcome, Sonia. Please find a seat,” she says, and gestures toward the rows of desks and checks me off on her attendance sheet. The kids, folded solemnly in their desk chairs, stare at me. All twenty-five of them. No circular tables here. No Sam. No Jack.
    I find one of only two empty desks in the third row near the windows and try to settle in. Someone has written stuff on my desktop in blue pen. It says two things:
MF+DG
and
GB smells
.
    Mrs. Langley makes some general announcements and then the next bell rings.