Lessons I Never Learned at Meadowbrook Academy Read Online Free

again and jokingly punched my shoulder. “Besides, you know I’ll pummel anyone that evenlooks at you the wrong way. Now go make friends with some really hot girls who you can introduce me to.” He popped his bicep a few times in front of my face.
    â€œEwww, gross,” I said and pushed his arm away.
    â€œChipmunk and I will be here at two forty-five on the dot to pick you up, and I promise I’ll park further down the driveway.”
    A girl with perfect summer blonde highlights in a green dress ran past the front of our car. The sun bounced off a diamond tennis bracelet she was wearing on her right wrist. I winced a little.
    â€œJust try,” Anthony said. “The stuff that people have is just stuff. It doesn’t make them any better or worse. It just makes them have more stuff, you know?”
    I nodded, but it didn’t make me feel any better. “I still don’t want to go.”
    â€œI know,” Anthony said.
    â€œBut I have to, right?”
    â€œYes.”
    I pulled the lock open. “You promise you won’t tell Mom about the beer?”
    â€œI promise,” he said.
    I opened the door, but didn’t get out. “Can I ask you something?”
    He nodded.
    â€œDoes this look red?” I pointed to my mouth. “I plucked the hairs above my upper lip this morning, and I think I made it worse.”
    He genuinely looked. “No, looks good to me.”
    I took a deep breath and got out of the car, but before I shut the door, I leaned back down. “Anthony?”
    â€œYes, Roberta?”
    â€œI want you to know, I would have worked extra shifts at The Cone Zone to send you to a high school like this. I want you to know, I would have.”
    His eyes flickered down for a moment before he looked back up. “Thanks, Birdie. That means a lot.”
    With my head tucked down, I quickly walked across the lawn, past the fountain, toward the front steps. The air smelled sweet of flowers and expensive perfume. I couldn’t help but feel nauseous.
    Both my dad and my mom just barely finished high school. Although my mother swears she has a beautician’s license, I’ve never seen it and she’s never worked as a beautician, so the whole thing is rather suspect. My dad likes to say we’re “salt of the earth” kind of people. I hate it when he says this because it makes me feel like we sprouted straight from dirt.
    I walked toward the double glass doors. Kids were swarming all around; heavy chatter filled the air. I made sure not to look at anyone and decided to occupy myself by looking at people’s shoes as they scurried by.
    I think it’s true that you can learn a lot about someone by the type of shoes they wear. I personally was sporting a highly nondescript pair of brown (fake) leather lace-ups, also compliments of Kmart. I spotted a pair of trendy snakeskin ankle boots, or at least they looked like snakeskin. They were brown and white with just a hint of green running between the scales. I wondered what the snake was like who died to make those shoes and if, in the snake community, it was considered an honor to be transformed into a lavish pair of footwear.
    Another pair of feet quickly ran past, and I noticed the black leather penny loafers attached to them. I loathed penny loafers. My mother bought me a pair of loafers last year. She shoved a quarter in them, instead of a penny, because she thought that would make them look more expensive. I used one as a pen holder, filled the other with rocks and used it as a doorstop, and took the two quarters to buy a candy bar.
    A very sophisticated pair of navy blue, high-heeled pumps strutted by.Perhaps looking at people’s shoes wasn’t the best idea. It was making me very anxious. My palms and armpits started to sweat. My family genetics yielded a plethora of physical undesirables, two of them being an unreasonable amount of facial hair and sweat glands that behave