Words That Start With B Read Online Free Page A

front. She’s wearing it with a white blouse and knee socks, actual knee socks, even though it’s at least twenty degrees already. She looks like she should be going to Hogwarts.
    “Hi, Mattie.”
    “Your hair looks nice, Clarissa.”
    I wish I could say I liked Mattie’s hair or her dress, but I don’t think I can manage to say the words without smirking, and I am trying to be nicer this year.
    “Thanks.”
    “How was your summer?”
    “Fine.”
    “Mine was amazing! I went to camp and joined the swim team and I even babysat for my neighbours once. They had a new baby. Can you believe it? I’m not even thirteen yet and they let me babysit their brand-new baby.”
    Ugh. If there is anything I hate more than Mattie Cohen, it’s babies.
    “That’s nice. Come on, Benji.”
    “I really like your dress, Mattie.”
    “I said, come
on,
Benji.”
    Finally the bell goes and we all shuffle into the classroom. This is it, the moment I have been waiting for since that day in grade three. Maybe even before that. I’m not bad at school, but I’m not the best, either. Despite that, I have a feeling that this is the year I will amaze everyone with my artistic abilities and math skills. I, Clarissa, who have never been able to draw anything but stick people, will suddenly be making masterpieces. Miss Ross will call my mother to discuss the deep and meaningful poems I’ll be writing in language arts. The choir teacher will beg me to sing the solo at the Christmas assembly. Maybe I’ve been a genius all along but none of the other teachers was smart enough to see it. If anyone can, it’s Miss Ross.
    So you can imagine my disappointment when a skinny man with red hair opens the door and says, “Gooooooood morning, ladies and gentle-monkeys. My name is Mr. Campbell and I will be your captain on the 7B ship.”

Broken-hearted
    Mr. Campbell tells us his first name is Tony, and then he tells us a really boring story about how people used to call him Tony the Tiger because of his name and his red hair. Worst of all, he does an impression of Tony the Tiger and doesn’t even notice that only a few people are laughing at his seriously dumb joke. Benji is one of them, of course. Traitor.
    “Are there any questions before we dive into science?”
    I raise my hand.
    “Yes, Miss—?”
    “Delaney. Clarissa Delaney.”
    “Well, Miss Delaney, what can I do for you?”
    “Where’s Miss Ross?”
    Tony the Tiger keeps smiling his big, dumb smile.
    “I believe Miss Ross is on sabbatical,” he says.
    I don’t know what that means, but it sounds serious and disturbingly permanent.
    “Will she be coming back?”
    “I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask that question of, Clarissa.”
    “Well, then who is?”
    “I believe your question falls under the jurisdiction of personal information.”
    “So you don’t know?”
    “No, I don’t know. But I
do
know we are going to have a grrrrreat year!”
    I seriously doubt that.
    I feel like a zombie; I sleepwalk through first period. Mr. Campbell passes out textbooks and workbooks and talks about the year ahead, but I can’t concentrate. Benji keeps trying to catch my eye but I pretend not to notice. I’m so disappointed I might cry or hit something, and neither of those things are a good way to start grade seven.
    All of the colour has been drained from the room. Gone is the huge painting of the tree behind the desk. Instead, Mr. Campbell has posted a big map stuck all over with pushpins. At the top the title
Where in the World Has 7B Been?
is spelled out in green and blue letters cut from construction paper. The window ledges have been cleared of all plants. Gone are the little red bookshelves bursting with Miss Ross’s own personal collection of books. I’d imagined myself reading through them on the brightly striped beanbag chairs that she’d kept at the back of the room. These have been replaced by a long table and plastic chairs. Worst of all, there are no birds anywhere.