Dimples Delight Read Online Free

thick they were. “You’ve got to see these telescopes,” he said.
    The whole class laughed with Stewart. The next day, three kids in class said they wanted glasses as “cool” as Stewart’s glasses.
    It was no fun teasing Stewart.
    But it was fun teasing me!
    I had to take the fun out.
    I had to get used to my dimples. Maybe even like them.
    I looked in the hall mirror.
    I smiled as wide as I could.
    My dimples were two holes. But what’s so bad about holes?
    Holes are nice. Holes are different. Holes are fun!
    It all depends on how you see them.

Chapter Ten
Eloise
    â€œWhat are you doing, Lawrence?” asked Eloise.
    I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell Eloise my plan. I stopped smiling into the mirror.
    â€œWhy don’t you smile anymore?” asked Eloise. “You’re always so grumpy now.”
    â€œI’m not grumpy,” I told her. “ See.” I smiled a big smile right at her.
    â€œHey, Lawrence,” she said. “I think your dimples are bigger. They look like caves. You could put peanuts in there. Can I see if a peanut fits?”
    â€œNo,” I said.
    â€œHow about a raisin? I bet a raisin would fit.”
    â€œNo,” I said. I went to the kitchen to get a snack.
    Eloise followed me.
    â€œHow about a chocolate chip? You could eat it when you got hungry.”
    â€œGo away, Eloise,” I shouted.
    â€œYou said you weren’t going to be grumpy any more. You lied. You’re still grumpy.”
    Eloise stormed out of the kitchen.
    The doorbell rang. It was Aunt Molly. Now I’d really get to test my dimple plan.
    â€œHi, Aunt Molly,” I said, giving her a big smile.
    â€œWell hello, darling,” she said. She pinched my cheek. “You’re much more cheerful today.”
    Her pinch stung like a needle. I kept smiling.
    â€œYes, I’m in a much better mood today,” I told her.
    â€œWell, Lawrence,” she cooed, pinching my cheeks again, “I love your dimples. I always say to your mother, ‘No one has dimples like Lawrence.’”
    â€œI know,” I said.
    I winced again. My cheeks burned from Aunt Molly’s nails. Why did she have to have such long, sharp nails? Maybe my face was bleeding.
    My face was aching from all the smiling and pinching, so I stopped smiling. I thought I should save all my smiles for Joe anyway.
    They had to be special smiles for Joe. I had to smile as if I loved my dimples. I had to smile as if I wished everyone in the world had dimples. I had to smile as if, no matter what Joe said about me or my dimples, I didn’t care.
    Would it work? Maybe Joe would find something else to tease me about. Maybe he’d tease me about being short. Maybe he’d tease me about how my hair got curly when it rained. Maybe he’d tease me about the small space between my two front teeth.
    Maybe nothing I’d do would work.
    Tomorrow I would know.

Chapter Eleven
Dumb Holes
    The next morning, Joe poked me in the stomach.
    â€œWe’re measuring your holes today,” he said in his gangster voice, waving his ruler.
    â€œWait!” I said.
    I reached into my cubby and pulled out my ruler. I pulled out a washable red pen and made a dot in each of my dimples.
    â€œVoila!” I said. I smiled my widest smile.
    I placed my ruler on my face. I felt where my dimple began and where it ended.
    â€œPerfect! A matching pair,” I said.
    Joe stared at me. His tongue hung in his mouth as if he had lost the power to speak.
    The bell rang.
    We sat down.
    My heart pounded.
    I’d won round one. Round two was coming.
    It came at recess.
    â€œLet’s play catch,” said Stewart.
    Stewart and I threw the ball back and forth. I felt a hard jab in my ribs. It was Joe.
    â€œPeople with dumb holes are dumb people,” he said.
    â€œDimples are not dumb holes. They’re wonderful holes,” I told him. “They’re perfect