"Blume, Judy - Just As Long As We're Together" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blume Judy)

Then Rachel introduced us to Dana Carpenter,
a ninth grader who also lives at Paifrey's Pond.
I was glad we'd have company riding the bus
because I'd heard rumors that some people like
to give seventh graders a hard time on their first
day at junior high.
When the bus came Rachel and I found two
seats together. Alison sat two rows ahead of us with Dana Carpenter. Nobody seemed interested in giving us a hard time.
"You didn't tell me Alison's Chinese," Rachel whispered when the bus got going.
"She's Vietnamese," I told Rachel. "She's adopted."
"Oh," Rachel said. "She doesn't even seem scared."
"I don't think she's the type to get scared over school," I said.
"I wish I weren't," Rachel said. "I couldn't eat a thing this morning. I was shaking so bad I could hardly brush my teeth."
I tried to help Rachel calm down by offering her a chocolate chip cookie from my lunch bag. She nibbled at it, then handed it back to me. No point in wasting it, I thought, so I finished it myself.
At the next bus stop six kids got on the bus and one of them was the best looking boy I have ever seen in person in my whole life. He looked almost as good as Benjamin Moore.
"Hey, Jeremy!" a group of boys called. "Back here. .
The boy, Jeremy, walked right by me on his way to the back of the bus. As he did his arm brushed against my shoulder. I turned around to get a better look at him. So did Rachel. So did
most of the girls on the bus. He had brown hair, brown eyes, a great smile and he wore a chartreuse colored jacket. I learned that color from my deluxe Crayola crayon box when I was in third grade. On the back of his jacket it said Dragons and under that, 1962.
"He has a great body," Rachel whispered to me.
"Yeah," I said. "He's a real hunk." We started to laugh and I could feel Rachel relax, until the bus pulled up to school. Then she stiffened. But her homeroom, 7-202, turned out to be right next to mine, 7-203.
"Stay with me until the bell rings," she begged. "And promise that you'll meet me here, in the hall, before first class so we can compare schedules. . . okay?"
"Okay," I said. Alison was standing next to me. She kept putting her sunglasses on, then taking them off again.
"Look," I said to Rachel, "there go the Klaff twins. Kara's in your homeroom and Peter's in mine." The Kiaff twins were in our sixth grade class. Their mother is our doctor. I figured Rachel would feel better knowing that Kara's in her homeroom.
"Well . . . I guess this is it," Rachel said. "I'm going to count to ten, then I'm going to go in."
"Okay."
She counted very slowly. When she got to ten she said, "If I live through this I'll see you later." She turned and marched into her homeroom. Sometimes Rachel is really dramatic.
Alison and I found desks next to each other. As soon as I sat down Eric Macaulay yelled, "Hey
it's Hershey Bar!" He would have to be in my homeroom! Last year he and some other boys got the brilliant idea of calling me Hershey Bar just because my last name is Hirsch. They're so stupid! Of course Eric had to go and take the desk right in front of mine.
Besides Eric Macaulay and Peter Klaff there were two other boys and two girls from sixth grade in my homeroom. One of them, Amber Ackbourne, I have never liked. She has such an attitude! The other one, Miri Levine, is okay. She took the desk on the other side of mine. I set my notebook, covered in Rachel's dining room wallpaper, on my desk. Miri Levine looked at it and said, "I like your notebook."
I said, "Thanks."
She had a plain spiral notebook on her desk.
"How'd you get the corners so perfect?" she asked.
"Rachel covered it for me."
"Oh, Rachel. . . everything she does is perfect."
"I know," I said.
Alison unpacked her canvas bag. She pulled
out a gray-blue stone, a roll of Scotch tape, a pad decorated with stickers, a Uniball pen, cherry flavored lip gloss and a small framed photo. Then she put everything back into her bag except the stone. She passed it to me. "It's my favorite," she said.
The stone was smooth and warm from Alison's hand.
When the bell rang a woman walked into our room. I was really surprised when she said, "Good morning, class. I'm Natalie Remo, your homeroom teacher."
I'd expected someone young, around twenty-four, with short brown hair. . . someone a little overweight, like me. But Mrs. Remo was about my mother's age, which is thirty-eight, and she's black. She was wearing a suit. I noticed when she took off her jacket that the lining matched her blouse. She also had on gold earrings which she pulled off and set on her desk.
"Still pretty warm out," she said, fanning herself with a yellow pad. "More like summer than fall." She walked around the room opening the windows. "There. . . that's better." She stood in front of the class again. "I hope you all received my cards."
No one said anything.
"Did you receive my cards?"
Everyone mumbled, "Yes."
"Good," Mrs. Remo said."Welcome toJ. E. Fox Junior High."
I happen to know that our school is named for John Edward Fox. He was supposed to be the first principal here but he died right before the school opened.
"I teach math," Mrs. Remo said. "So eventually most of you will wind up in one of my classes."
Nobody said anything.
"Well. . ." Mrs. Remo continued, "either you're all still asleep or you're feeling pretty unsure about junior high. I think by the end of the day you're going to feel much better. Once you get used to changing classes you'll all relax."
Nobody said anything.