Someday Angeline (Someday Angeline 1)

Nelson had to turn his face away to keep from laughing.

“I think you owe him an apology,” Mrs. Hardlick demanded.

“I’m sorry,” sobbed Angeline.

Nelson shrugged.

“I’m sending you home now,” said Mrs. Hardlick. “I’ve written a note to your mother telling her what you did. I want you to bring it back tomorrow, signed by her.”

“My—my mother’s dead,” said Angeline.

Mrs. Hardlick looked annoyed. “Do you have a father?” she asked.

Angeline nodded.

“Well then, I don’t care, have him sign it.”

Angeline shakily walked to Mrs. Hardlick’s desk and took the note from her. Carefully she walked outside.

“Can I leave my desk like this, Mrs. Hardlick?” asked Nelson.

Once outside, Angeline took several steps, then collapsed against the corner of the red brick building. It felt cold against her face. She thought about her mother. She remembered her having a very s

oft face and great big eyes. Her mother and father went out one day while she stayed at her grandmother’s. Her father came home alone. She remembered him telling her that her mother was dead. She could still see his face, pale and quivering as he told her, but he never told her how she died. She didn’t want to ask.

There are some things you know before you are born, and there are some things you never know.

Christy Mathewson found Angeline just around the corner, sitting against the building. The bricks were wet from her tears. “I brought you your lunch, Angeline,” she said. “You forgot it.”

Angeline looked up at her and smiled. That was the second time Christy had done something nice for her, for no reason. “Thank you,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Are you all right?” Christy asked. “Maybe you should go to the bathroom and wash your face. I’ll go with you if you want.”

Angeline didn’t have the strength to move.

“Boy, I hate Mrs. Hardlick, don’t you?” said Christy. “She’s so mean. That’s because she’s such a lousy teacher. She covers up what a crummy teacher she is by being mean.”

Angeline gulped.

“You shouldn’t let a crummy teacher like her upset you,” said Christy. “I mean, you being so smart and everything. Someday you’re going to be so brilliant and famous, anyway.”

Angeline wiped her face on her sleeve. “You never know,” she said.

“Philip calls her Mrs. Hardboiled,” laughed Christy.

Angeline laughed.

Christy helped her stand up. They slowly walked to the girls’ bathroom together.

“I like your earrings, Christy,” said Angeline.

“They’re real gold,” said Christy. “If they weren’t, my ears would turn green.”

Twelve

More Fish

With her lunch bag gripped tightly in her hand, Angeline waited at the bus stop in front of the school. She was still feeling a little shaky. She felt like she was losing her balance.