But I didn’t think there was, so I just had her find me chapter eight, where it was already spring, and chapter nine, where it rained and rained, probably even more than it rained here yesterday.

17. Vivid Tangerine, Jungle Green

“I come bearing gifts!” Bertie practically shouted when she found me in the cafeteria. She sat down right next to me and lifted a shopping bag onto the table. It had my name on the side in big, blocky letters.

She started pulling books out of it. So many of them had stickers—golden and silver. I wondered if all of Bertie’s books were winners.

“Thanks,” I said.

“No sweat, you bet,” she said. “I have tons more, but it was too many to bring on the bus. Do you have your Safety form?”

I thought about the vivid tangerine paper, which was still on the counter this morning. I’d spilled a little milk on it, eating my cereal, and had to dry it with a paper towel.

I could tell Bertie I lost it, or I forgot it, or I dropped it in a mud puddle on the way to school (accidentally on purpose) and stepped on it. Any of those things could be true. But I didn’t want to tell Bertie something that wasn’t true, even if it could be.

“My mom didn’t sign it yet,” I said.

“No biggie.” She shrugged. “I don’t think you need to hand it in before you take the test, but you should still bring it in ASAP.”

The bell rang, and Bertie helped me gather up all my books.

—

Today’s morning message was jungle green, and below all the twisty-twiny vines, there was a long and skinny number nine. The first letter was a little c that I knew right away was supposed to be a capital. I drew it big and round and substantial. I put a check mark in the corner. One down. Eight to go.

I was beginning the second letter when Dee walked in and started messing with the stuff in his cubby. He stomped to his desk and sat down, but I didn’t hear any more of his loudness because a different loud noise budged in the line. It was so all-of-a-sudden, it made the yellow jackets in my stomach jump.

It blared on and off. On and off. It felt like someone pushing.

I thought maybe it was a fire drill, but nobody was lining up at the door. Instead, Ms. G. quickly shut the door and locked it. She pulled a piece of cardboard from the top of the cubbies and stuck it in the door’s long rectangle window.

She turned off the lights. Then she pulled down the shades. I watched her plant disappear behind them.