Allegra Read Online Free

done the same thing has to get up and take an empty chair from someone else who has also never done it. The person who ends up without a chair goes next.” He looks around the group, then adds, “And please keep the activities clean and legal.”
    â€œI have never eaten snails,” the first boy says. Most of us jump up and scramble to find a chair. My butt hits a chair at the same moment that Julia’s butt hits the same chair. She gives me a shoulder-check and I slide off, barely managing to stay on my feet. “Looks like you’re up next,” Mr. Rocchelli says to me.
    â€œI have never owned a dog,” I say. A few chairs are exchanged.
    â€œI have never worn braces.”
    â€œI have never colored my hair.” Mr. Rocchelli jumps into the fray on that one and, not wanting to shove any of his students, ends up losing.
    â€œI have never been fishing,” he says. About half of the group scrambles to get to an available chair.
    â€œI have never been on a diet.”
    â€œI have never broken my curfew.”
    â€œI have never made my curfew.”
    The game gets slapstick and silly, and even I find myself laughing. One guy keeps losing on purpose so that he can say ridiculous things. “I’ve never kissed a girl.” All the girls switch chairs while none of the boys move, despite the goading a few of them get.
    â€œI’ve never cheated on an exam.” A surprising number of kids stay in their seats.
    â€œI’ve never cheated on my girlfriend.”
    â€œOkay, that’s enough,” Mr. Rocchelli says, clapping his hands to get our attention.
    Reluctantly, we settle back into our chairs, but the chatter continues. The game has prompted a lot of silly conversation. As I watch him hand out the course outline, I realize that the tension I’d felt at the start of the class has subsided. Maybe Mr. Rocchelli knows what he’s doing after all.
    He goes over the units we’ll be studying, outlining some of the assignments, and then asks for questions.
    â€œRocky, what percentage of our grade will the final exam be worth?” Julia asks. “I’m, like, so bad at exams,” she adds.
    I scan the faces of the other students, wondering if anyone else feels like rolling their eyes. The guy who looks familiar makes eye contact with me. That’s when I realize he’s the guy from the office yesterday, the one who was arguing with Ms. Jennings. Spencer. He smirks and nods in Julia’s direction. I nod in return, feeling a sense of silent camaraderie. Neither of us likes Ms. Jennings or Julia. After a few more questions, Mr. Rocchelli dismisses the class, but he adds, “Allegra, will you stay behind a moment, please?”
    Oh man, I think. Here it comes, the lecture about how lucky I am that he hasn’t turned me in. I’ll probably have to apologize before he’ll let me leave the room. The relaxed mood brought on by the games evaporates in a single moment.
    I remain in my chair, trying not to act as nervous as I feel. Spencer smiles when he passes by me, and I try to smile back, but I think it comes off as more of a grimace. When everyone is gone, Mr. Rocchelli goes to his desk and comes back with a file folder. He hands it to me and then takes a seat a couple of chairs away.
    â€œWhat’s this?” I ask.
    â€œOpen it up.”
    I flip it open and read the words on the top of the page: Music Theory 11 - 12 . Final Exam . I look at him, confused.
    â€œI forgot to mention,” he says, “that you can challenge the course. Take the exam early and be done with it.”
    As the words sink in, I become angry. Why didn’t he mention this at the start? It would have saved me from embarrassing myself the way I did in the school office yesterday.
    I guess he can see the flush working its way up my cheeks, because he leans forward and says, “I owe you an apology, Allegra.”
    I still don’t say