Mrs. walked over to my chair. She stared down at me.

“How did you get two extra tickets, Junie B.?” she asked. “Did you find them on the playground?”

Then she took my two extra tickets away. And she held them way high in the air.

“Did anyone lose their snack tickets today?” she said to the class.

“NO!” I hollered. “Those are my tickets! Lucille and Grace gave them to me!”

Mrs. raised her eyebrows. “Lucille? Did you give Junie B. your snack ticket today?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Lucille. “That’s because she made me.”

“No, I did not, you dumb Lucille!” I said. “I did not make you!”

Mrs. said, “Be quiet,” to me.

She folded her arms. “Grace? Did you give your snack ticket to Junie B., too?”

Then that Grace started to cry. Because she thought she was in trouble.

Mrs. tapped her foot. “Please come get your snack ticket, Grace,” she said.

And so then that Grace walked to my table in just her socks.

And Mrs. made squinty eyes at her feet.

“Where are your shoes, Grace?” she asked.

That’s when big fat baby Grace started crying very harder. And she pointed at her shoes.

Mrs. peeped under my table.

“Junie B. Jones!” she hollered. “Why are you wearing Grace’s shoes?”

Mrs. sounded dangerous.

“Because,” I said kind of scared.

“Because why?” said Mrs.

“Because it’s the rules,” I explained.

Then Mrs. bended down very close to my ear. “What rules?”

“The rules for who gets to be the first one to see my monkey brother,” I said.

Mrs. rolled her eyes way back in her head.

“Put your own shoes back on. And come with me, young lady,” she said.

Then me and her walked into the hall together. And she made me tell her what happened on the playground.

After that, I had to give Lucille back the locket and the sweater with the Scottie dog on it. And I had to give Grace back the real genuine fake ring from cereal.

Then Mrs. wrote a note. And she said for me to take it to the office.

The office is where the boss of the school lives. His name is Principal.

“Yes, but I don’t think I would like to go down there today,” I said. “Or else my mother might get mad at me.”

Mrs. tapped her foot. Then she took hold of my hand.

“Let’s go, young lady. March,” she said.

And so then me and her marched to the office.

March is the school word for pulled me way too fast.

⁸/_{Me and Principal}

The school office is a scary place.

It has loud ringing phones. And a typing lady who is a stranger. And a row of chairs where bad kids sit.

Mrs. plopped me in a blue one.

“Wait here,” she said.

“Yeah, only I’m not bad,” I whispered to just myself.

Then I put my sweater on my head. So nobody would see me in the bad kid’s chair.