Lone Bean Read Online Free Page B

couch.
    We snuggled into the cushions. I said, “Carla has a new friend and they don’t want to play with me and they keep laughing and passing notes in the front row, so I can’t concentrate, and Gabrielle wouldn’t let me follow along in the book with my finger like Carla always does.” I gasped to catch my breath between sobs. “And I had to be partners with Stanley and he’s smelly and people laughed because Sam said I like him and Ms. Sullivan got mad at me and now Dad is telling me I have to play the dumb piano.”
    â€œOh, baby,” Mom said as she hugged me tighter. “You had quite a day.”
    I mopped up my tears with my wet sleeve and said, “I hate third grade.”
    â€œBean, third grade will all get better, I promise. It was just the first day. Sometimes a new year takes some getting used to. And baby, you and Carla have been friends for so long. This will work itself out.”
    Work itself out? But how ?
    â€œAnd, Bean, don’t listen to what other people say. If you like Stanley, that’s just fine.”
    â€œI don’t like Stanley,” I said with my most very serious tone of voice.
    â€œAll right then, but remember, it’s important to treat people the way you would like to be treated. Okay?”
    I do not like to be called names, so I felt bad that I had called Stanley stinky today.
    â€œDo you have homework?” asked Mom.
    â€œA little.”
    â€œThen get to work. It’s almost time for dinner,” she said, and then she disappeared up the stairs to change her clothes. If I got to wear blue scrubs like Mom, I would never take them off. I would wear them to bed and to school and even to parties.
    I grabbed my backpack and set up at the kitchen table. I had one sheet of math and the letters A and B in my cursive writing book, and I had to write my spelling words in sentences. I decided to work on the cursive writing first. Uppercase A ’s are kinda hard, but I got into a groove with the lowercase ones. Just as I was starting to trace the uppercase B ’s . . .
    Knock! Knock! Someone was at the door. I tried to ignore it and keep making my letters, but whoever it was kept pounding and pounding.
    â€œCan you get that, Bean?” Mom asked.
    I got up with a huff and pulled my chair over to the door. You have to look out the peephole before you open up, you know. I could only see the top of someone’s head. It kinda looked like a head I knew, but it couldn’t be. Could it? I moved the chair away and swung open the door. No way! Stinky Stanley was right there at my back door.
    â€œHi, Bean,” he said.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” I gasped as a whiff of yuck filled my nose.
    â€œHey, Stanley,” Dad said as he came in from the living room. “Ready to get started?”
    I turned to Dad and asked, “Started on what?”
    â€œI’m working with Stanley on his saxophone. He has quite a musical talent.”
    I stood there with my mouth so wide open that a bird could have flown in. They walked right by me and into the living room, where they set up by the piano. I couldn’t believe Stinky Stanley was in my living room and now my poor ears would have to listen to his terrible saxophone playing.
    They started to play, and boy, was I surprised! Stanley was not bad at all. He was actually super-duper good. He sounded almost like they do on Dad’s jazz CDs. I tried to get back to my homework, but all that bebopping in the living room was very distracting.
    I finally finished my cursive writing and started to smell dinner. Mmm . . . spaghetti and meatballs . . . and garlic bread. I worked on my spelling, then started on my math. It was easy as pie. Mmm . . . pie would be yummy too! My stomach gurgled. I was starving. I counted the time till dinner. One meatball, two meatballs, three meatballs, four . . .
    â€œWould you like to stay for dinner?” Dad asked Stanley when they