I’m always at Mom’s on spelling-party mornings, because the parties are on Fridays, and I’m at Mom’s on Thursday nights (Thursday = Mom day).

Mom said getting mad about the spelling parties was understandable, but that I should also think about whether I could make myself feel better by doing “something special.”

“I can’t do anything,” I told her. “I have to sit in the dumb lunchroom! And dumb Carolyn Shattuck always sits next to me!” Carolyn Shattuck couldn’t spell, either. But that wasn’t what I meant by dumb.

“Maybe we can pack something special in your lunch,” Mom said. “Maybe you can bring your puzzle book and do all the word-finds.” The word-finds were my favorite kind of puzzle. I loved circling the words.

“Wait!” I said. “What if I write a letter to Sonia in the lunchroom? We can be pen pals.” Because January was still far away. I wanted to know Sonia faster.

“Great idea,” Mom said.

I kept my “B” stationery at Mom’s, which was lucky. I ran to my room to get it. Every page had a big, curly B at the top, and the envelopes were covered in stars. Mom had given it to me for my birthday, and I only used it for special occasions. Carefully, I slid two pieces of stationery and one envelope into my homework folder.

—

When it was time for lunch, Mr. Home said that kids eating in the lunchroom should line up as usual. This was the worst part of it, having to line up while everybody looked. I grabbed my homework folder and held it close to me, like it was important. I also tried to look like I was thinking about something interesting, something so interesting I never even noticed that most of the class wasn’t lining up.

What I forgot to do was get my lunch from the coat closet. So I had plenty of time to write my first letter to Sonia.

Another thing I have noticed about telling a story is that spelling mistakes are not interesting. In fifth grade, my letters were full of spelling mistakes, but I am not going to put them in.