Pizza Party, page 1
Contents
* * *
Title Page
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Frontispiece
Stupid Is Not a Bad Word
Some Thoughts about Rules
Not Ms. Shelby-Ortiz
Leave It to Khufu
What Does the Statue of Liberty Mean to You?
Girls Like Basketball Too
I Got You Out!
Where’s My Homework?
School in the Early Morning
It All Started with Carlos
The Return of Ms. Shelby-Ortiz
Other Books by this Author
Sample Chapter from NIKKI AND DEJA
Buy the Book
About the Author
About the Illustrator
Connect with HMH on Social Media
Text copyright © 2019 by Karen English
Illustrations copyright © 2019 by Laura Freeman
All rights reserved. For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to trade.permissions@hmhco.com or to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 3 Park Avenue, 19th Floor, New York, New York 10016.
Clarion Books is an imprint of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company.
hmhbooks.com
The illustrations were executed digitally.
Cover illustration © 2018 by Laura Freeman
Cover design by Opal Roengchai
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Names: English, Karen, author. | Freeman, Laura (Illustrator), illustrator.
Title: Pizza party / by Karen English ; illustrated by Laura Freeman. Description: Boston ; New York : Clarion Books, [2018] | Series: The Carver chronicles ; book six | Summary: Third-grader Richard and his friends are four days from earning a pizza party for good behavior when a very strict substitute suspects that some of them have been cheating.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018033911 | ISBN 9781328494627 (hardback)
Subjects: | CYAC: Teachers—Fiction. | Schools—Fiction. | Friendship—Fiction. | Cheating—Fiction. | African Americans—Fiction. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / People & Places / United States / African American. | JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / Friendship. | JUVENILE FICTION / Humorous Stories. | JUVENILE FICTION / Readers / Chapter Books.
Classification: LCC PZ7.E7232 Piz 2018 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018033911
eISBN 978-1-328-52692-2
v1.1118
For Gavin, Jacob, Issac, and Idris.
—K.E.
For Griffin and Milo.
—L.F.
One
Stupid Is Not a Bad Word
The children of Room Ten (except Ralph Buyer, who’s absent again) at Carver Elementary School are standing in line, ramrod straight, heads forward, mouths closed. They are waiting for their teacher to pick them up from the yard. It’s Monday, and it’s their sixteenth day of excellent lineup behavior. Four more days of perfect morning lineup behavior and they get to have a pizza party. Their teacher, Ms. Shelby-Ortiz, has promised them. And she always keeps her promises.
So they wait, arms at their sides, mouths empty of chewing gum, lips pressed together against conversation spilling out. Well, Richard can see Calvin Vickers rolling his shoulders every once in a while—which he can completely understand, because suddenly he’s feeling a teensy bit antsy too.
Richard wishes he could run in place—just a little. It’s hard to hold this very still posture. He sneaks a look at the main building’s closed double doors. The doors Ms. Shelby-Ortiz usually comes through when she picks them up from the yard. Most of the teachers have already picked up their classes and are walking back in that direction at the front of their lines. But nearly all of those lines are loose lines, Richard notes.
Not straight. Not quiet. Not everyone keeping their hands to their sides. He sees Montel Mitchell yank the hem of Brianna’s jacket. She turns around and yells something at him, and their teacher just keeps walking them toward the main building like she doesn’t even notice.
Richard lets out a tiny laugh. He’s pleased that Room Ten’s line has outshined all other lines for the past sixteen days. He’s pleased that he’s done his share. The slight smile on his face freezes when he suddenly hears hissing behind him. It’s Yolanda.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
“Nothing,” he whispers back.
“You’re not standing perfectly straight and I can hear you laughing about something.”
He straightens up. “I am too standing perfectly straight.”
This catches Miss Goody-Goody Antonia’s attention and she says to him in a voice slightly louder than a whisper, “You’re not supposed to be talking. Will you two please just shut up!”
Now Carlos, in front of her, jumps in. “Ooh, you said a bad word!” He turns practically all the way around to make his point face-to-face.
“I did not say a bad word,” Antonia counters in her normal voice. “It’s only a bad word at school. Nobody outside of school thinks shut up is a bad word.”
Deja joins in, but she keeps her head forward and her voice low. “We are at school. So shut up is a bad word.”
“And stupid,” Nikki adds. “Don’t forget about stupid.”
“Not in the regular world,” Antonia replies. Then she lets go with a long, long sigh, closing her eyes and leaning her head back a bit, as if exercising extreme patience with her classmates.
“It’s not stupid by itself that’s a bad word. Calling someone stupid is what makes stupid a bad word,” Nikki says.
Carlos looks toward the main building’s closed doors and then says in a loud voice, “Would you all just be quiet! We’re going to lose the pizza party!”
That stuns everyone into silence. They adjust their postures and look straight ahead, returning to their perfect lineup behavior. Then, way across the yard, they see the main doors open. It’s not Ms. Shelby-Ortiz, Richard is surprised to see. It’s Mr. Blaggart, the sub they’d had when Ms. Shelby-Ortiz broke her ankle.
He was mean. It had seemed like he was their punishment for driving away their first sub, Mr. Willow—who was way nicer.
Richard remembers some of their bad behavior. It had been Carlos’s idea to skip around while he was reading out loud. And Ayanna was the one who decided to read in a voice so low no one could hear her. He’s not sure whose idea it was for a bunch of kids to have a coughing fit during silent reading, but it was definitely Rosario who’d told everyone to sit wherever they wanted. And to keep switching names so poor Mr. Willow could never learn them.
The last straw—after the class’s coughing fit—had come after lunch. Another teacher must have told Mr. Willow about the “Kick Me!” Post-it Carlos had stuck on the back of his sportcoat when he went up to ask him a question about the Social Studies assignment.
Poor Mr. Willow. He finished out the day, but he did not come back. That’s when Richard felt extra guilty. Mr. Willow didn’t deserve to be treated like that.
The next day, they’d had Mr. Blaggart. Former drill sergeant, current mean, mean, super-mean substitute teacher. Richard sighs. He wants to say something to Gavin, who’s three people ahead of him in line, but knows he’d better not.
* * *
You can hear a pin drop as the class enters Room Ten. There’s a list of their names on the whiteboard with a series of tally marks next to each. Richard looks at Gavin. Gavin shrugs. “I think we have to not get any of those tally marks erased. You have to keep as many as possible,” he whispers.
Richard thinks about this. “He didn’t do that last time.”
Those who have permission to bring their backpacks to their desks to hook onto the backs of their chairs head to their tables. Those who Ms. Shelby-Ortiz has decided can’t be trusted to have their backpacks within reach place them in their cubbies. Then they find their seats. Richard has to—temporarily—leave his backpack in his cubby. The week before, Ms. Shelby-Ortiz caught him with a toy in his desk.
“Wonder where Ms. Shelby is?” Carlos whispers to Richard before he heads to his desk with his backpack. Not fair, Richard thinks. The toy was Carlos’s. He’d let Richard “see” it right before line-up, and Richard hadn’t had a chance to give it back.
“Yeah. Where is she?” Richard mumbles to himself. He looks around. And where is Khufu? He doesn’t even know yet that Room Ten has a sub. And not just any sub.
Suddenly the shrill blast of a whistle interrupts the hushed silence. Everyone freezes in place. Richard and Carlos exchange looks.
“This getting into your seats and taking out your journals and getting started writing is taking too long.” Mr. Blaggart looks around the room, then walks over to the board. “Obviously this class does not remember my rules. Let’s go over them again. Notebooks out, and I’d better see a pencil in everyone’s hand.”
Richard notices Yolanda exchange looks with Deja, but they keep their mouths closed. Yolanda writes something on a piece of paper, folds it, then drops it to the floor at her feet. With one foot she passes it across the floor to the area under Deja’s desk. Deja puts her foot on the folded paper. She waits a bit, then reaches down and palms it. Then puts it in her desk. She opens it with one hand, reads it, looks back at Yolanda, and nods. Richard wonders what’s in the note.
Mr. Blaggart’s loud voice interrupts Richard’s thoughts again. “Now for my rules.” He turns and smiles at the class, but it’s not a real smile. It
Richard reaches into his desk for his pencil, but he can’t find it. He feels around and comes across wads of balled paper, stray crayons, and . . . Oh, there are the scissors the kids at his table had been looking for last Friday when they had Art. The box that held the table’s common art supplies—scissors, markers, crayons, glue sticks—had been missing a pair of scissors.
Now he quietly returns them to the box and hears Yolanda whisper, “You’re the one who had the scissors. I knew it.”
“I accidentally had them.”
Mr. Blaggart looks over at their table and homes in on Richard. “Do you have something you want to share with the class?”
“Sir?” he remembers to say from the last time the class had Mr. Blaggart as a sub.
“I see you’re busy talking and not writing. Why is that?”
Richard doesn’t know how to answer that question. Luckily, he doesn’t have to, because just then Khufu enters the classroom with a note in his hand.
Mr. Blaggart looks over at him and frowns.
“I’m late because my father had a flat, and I had to walk when I hadn’t been expecting to walk,” Khufu says right away.
Didn’t Khufu use that excuse last week? Richard thinks.
Beverly’s hand shoots up, but she manages to keep her mouth shut until Mr. Blaggart nods at her.
“Mr. Blaggart, Khufu said his dad had a flat tire just last week.” She looks around quickly for those who’ll back her up. Several girls nod in agreement. Richard notices none of the boys is seconding this. And while everyone’s attention is on Khufu and Mr. Blaggart, Richard, in a whisper, says, “Gavin, I need a pencil.” Gavin looks at Mr. Blaggart while reaching into his desk. He passes one to Richard.
Two
Some Thoughts about Rules
Richard hurriedly writes the date on his first clean page. He quickly copies what Mr. Blaggart has already written on the board:
1. Always address Mr. Blaggart with “Yes, sir” or “No, sir” when answering a yes or no question.
2. Place homework in the homework tray upon entering the class.
3. Complete assignments in a timely fashion.
Richard frowns. He doesn’t know what the term “timely fashion” means to Mr. Blaggart. To Ms. Shelby-Ortiz, it means by the end of the day. If you don’t hand in your work with the rest of the class, then she has you work on it while the others have free time. It’s best to stay on task.
“Is that true?” Mr. Blaggart asks Khufu. “You had a flat tire last week as well?”
Richard writes:
4. Stand when answering a question.
Then he waits for Khufu’s answer, knowing he will come up with a doozy.
“We don’t have much money, so my father’s car is really old with really old tires.”
Leave it to Khufu to come up with something that will make Mr. Blaggart sympathetic. He thinks.
“I’ll be looking for a note from your father tomorrow. And don’t forget.”
Khufu looks perfectly calm when he replies, “I won’t forget.”
5. Requesting bathroom or water privileges after morning recess will result in losing lunch recess. Requesting bathroom or water privileges after lunch recess results in losing morning recess the next day.
6. No talking while working.
7. Free time activity-reading.
Richard starts to raise his hand, but then hesitates. Then he raises it all the way. Mr. Blaggart looks at him and nods.
“Mr. Blaggart, Ms. Shelby-Ortiz lets us work on the class jigsaw puzzle when we finish our work early.”
“I’m not Ms. Shelby-Ortiz,” he says simply.
Richard also wants to ask what the journal topic is, but now he hesitates.
As if reading his mind, Yolanda raises her hand.
“What is it?” Mr. Blaggart asks, turning to her.
In a small voice she says, “Um, can you tell us what the topic is for our morning journal?”
Mr. Blaggart frowns as if he hasn’t even thought of a topic for the morning journal. He shrugs. “How about ‘Why Do We Need Rules?’ I think that’s an excellent topic. Who agrees with me?”
Everyone quickly raises their hands.
* * *
Richard gazes at his blank journal page. That’s a lame topic, he thinks, then quickly looks up at Mr. Blaggart as if the sub might be able to hear his thoughts. He finishes jotting down the rest of the rules and sighs. Not once has he ever given that topic any thought. He writes the date again on the next blank page in his journal. Yolanda, who sits across from him at Table Three, has already begun writing. He stares for a moment at her journal page. She notices and angles her journal away from him. She hunches over it.
Richard rolls his eyes. There isn’t anything she’s writing that he’d want to copy. He’s pretty sure about that.
He writes the topic in the middle of the line. Then he takes a few minutes to ponder it. He glances at Khufu across the aisle from him. Of course, he’s already dived in and hardly stops to take a breath as he writes and writes.
Richard turns back to his work, but then he hears whispering. He might have missed it, except the whisper has a whistling sound. It’s Deja, who sits across from Nikki at Table Two. Her loose tooth had come out the other day when she’d bitten an apple at lunch. Is she crazy? If he can hear that whistling sound, then surely Mr. Blaggart can hear it. Richard sneaks a look at the teacher, who’s sitting at the front of the room behind his newspaper. He’s leaning back in Ms. Shelby-Ortiz’s special chair. Now he looks over the open paper and scans the classroom. “Who’s talking?” he asks, squinting and peering around.
The class is silent. But then Richard can hear Deja whisper, “He likes to try and scare us.”
“I’m waiting and I don’t want to wait all day.”
Deja slowly raises her hand.
“What’s that?” Mr. Blaggart asks.
Deja looks. She has mistakenly raised her hand with the note in it.
Mr. Blaggart walks over to her, plucks the note from her fingers, and shakes it open. He scans it quickly while Deja looks down and Yolanda’s eyes shift back and forth.
He clears his throat. “Let me see,” he says. “What have we got here?”
He begins to read: “Wonder if he has a wife? Wonder if he even has children? What kind of dad is he if he is a dad? Mean, probably. I wouldn’t want him for my dad.”
Deja bites her lip.
“He probably doesn’t even let them have dessert if they leave one crumb on their plates.”
Richard hears a few stifled giggles behind him.
“Well, I’m thinking you two have already had your own personal recess,” Mr. Blaggart says. “Am I right? You’ve been having a personal recess on your own—which means you’ll be staying in when everyone else goes out for their recess. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Deja remembers to say.
“Yes, sir,” Yolanda quickly repeats.
Mr. Blaggart goes back to the front of the classroom and asks, “Why do we need rules?”
A few kids raise their hands, and Richard thinks: Why do we need rules? Everywhere you go there are rules. Rules for riding your bike: don’t ride against traffic, wear a helmet, give cars the right of way. (Well, of course for that last one.)
His mother has lots of rules too. In fact, she’s the family rule maker. She even has rules for his father: If he’s first to get home, he has to pull into the garage and not just leave his car in the driveway, making it hard for her to squeeze by. Everyone in the house—Richard, his three brothers, and his dad—should load their dishes into the dishwasher as soon as they finish using them. Dirty clothes should be put in the clothes hamper immediately.
Richard sighs and stares at his blank page with the title positioned in the exact middle of the first line. Then he begins.
Why Do We Need Rules?
The whole wide world needs rules. Otherwise people would just not get along. We have to have rules when we drive our cars. What if no body followed the rule of stopping on a red light. All the cars would crash into each other and people would get really hurt. And what if people didn’t get to the side of the street when a fire truck was going by. They might get smashed by the fire truck and what if all the kids ran in the halls. Kids would knock each other over and kids would get hurt bad. And what would happen if nobody put their cart away in the parting lot in front of Big Barn Supermarket? Cars wouldn’t be able to drive around the parting lot and find parking. And what if you didn’t keep your mouth closed when you chewed your food. That would be so yucky everyone would throw up at the table and that would be a big mess for your mother to have to clean up. We need rules so people don’t get hurt and people don’t throw up.
