Star Time (4 page)

She sang it under her breath.

Everyone didn’t have to know about it just yet.

G
ina went to find Mitchell. She sang all the way down the hall.

She’d have to do something about her hair.

How could she be a star with straight-as-a-string hair? If only she hadn’t used up all of Destiny’s Curls Galore gel.

She thought of Grandma Maroni’s loopy pearls. It made her sad.

But Grandma Maroni said she didn’t mind. “I have a drawerful of look-like-real jewels,” she said.

Gina threw open the gym door.

“ROBOTS-AND-SPACESHIPS-OH-MY,” she sang.

Beebe stopped hopping on one foot. She stared at Gina.

Sumiko stopped swinging on the gym rope. She slid to the floor.

Charlie was on top of the bleachers. He looked surprised. He probably thought she was a star singer.

Destiny was in the corner. She was waving her arms around. She was talking to herself. But now she stopped. Her mouth was open.

Gina nodded. Everyone in the gym was staring at her. It was her singing, of course.

Too bad about today’s shirt. It had a teeny-but-you-could-still-see-it noodle soup spot.

Peter was leaning against the back of a chair. He had a notepad in his hand.

Mitchell was lying on the floor. His legs were wiggling around in the air. He looked like a skinny spider. “What next?” he was saying.

Gina thought of Mr. Sarsaparilla again.

You can do almost anything
.

She sank down next to them.

She peered at the notepad.

Cross-outs all over the place.

“Erasers are helpful,” she said in a Ms. Katz voice.

She said it kindly.

“It’s our sloppy copy,” Peter said. “We have to add another bad guy. My brother, Trevor, wants a part.”

“That’s just what I wanted to talk to you about,” Gina said. “I’m here to help.”

“No thanks,” Peter and Mitchell said together.

They might turn out to be difficult boys
, Gina thought.

“Madam Ballantine might want a girl writer, too,” she said.

Mitchell frowned. “I didn’t hear her say that.”

“Me neither,” said Peter.

“Really?” Gina said. It was the perfect answer. Not a lie.

Mitchell filled his mouth with air. He puffed out one cheek. Then he puffed out the other. “We can ask her tomorrow.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t bother her,” Gina said.

Clifton, Trevor’s best friend, slid up to them. “How come I’m not in this play?” he asked.

Mitchell stopped puffing. “We’ll add another bad guy.”

“I want to be a robot,” Clifton said.

Mitchell sighed. “We have a zillion robots.”

“One more won’t hurt,” Gina said.

“All right,” Mitchell said.

She sat back. She was getting nicer by the minute. And helpful!

Clifton slid away.

“You don’t have any opera stars,” Gina said.

“This is a space story.” Mitchell began to puff again.

Gina frowned. “I bet you don’t have one crashing drummer.”

“You think there are drummers in outer space?” Peter asked.

He sounded like her father when his socks got all mixed up, she thought. “Don’t worry. We’re going to do this together. It will be …”

She tried to think of the word Mr. Sarsaparilla had used.

“Enchanting,” she said at last.

Peter began to shake his head.

Mitchell puffed out his cheek one more time. “We’ll think about it.”

“Think hard,” she said.

B
us Thirteen pulled up in front of the Afternoon Center. It was the worst one. It always had smoke coming out the back.

Gina was out the door. She walked right behind Mrs. Farelli in her auditorium-colored dress.

Today they were going to see Madam Ballantine in her play.

It would be a long ride. They were having snacks on the way. Purple yogurt.

Gina carried her mother’s huge purple purse. Just in case! It would cover every single yogurt dot.

It had a bunch of other things, too:

A writing pad for helping Peter and Mitchell.

A pencil with the sharpest point in the world.

A brand-new eraser that smelled like orange juice.

And a dollar for just-in-case.

Destiny rushed past. Gina knew she wanted to sit next to the bus driver. It was the woman who looked just like Charlie.

Charlie came along next. He was carrying a paper bag. It was dripping a little.

“It’s for my Wet-O Dry-O invention,” he said. “I want to see how long it takes for water to disappear.”

Gina stepped back so Sumiko could go next.

“Thanks,” Sumiko said.

“Don’t worry,” Gina said. “I’m waiting for Peter and Mitchell.”

Mitchell was last.

That made her last, too.

“Where’s Peter?” she asked.

“Home with double earaches,” Mitchell said.

They had to sit in seats at the back. Not a great spot.

Very bumpy for the yogurt!

But never mind that.

“Did you think hard?” she asked Mitchell.

Mitchell didn’t answer. He was trying to balance his yogurt on his writing-the-play pad.

Gina pointed to the pad. What a mess it was, with those cross-outs. There was a big rip down the middle, too.

Mitchell took a huge spoonful of yogurt.

She almost said, “Watch out!” But it was too late.

Yogurt dripped on Mitchell’s shirt and jeans.

Even his chin was purple.

The bus lurched.

A huge glump of yogurt landed on Gina’s knee. It was wet; it was cold. All because of Bus Thirteen.

It was a good thing she had the purse.

“Yeow!” Charlie yelled. “My Wet-O Dry-O invention is all over the floor.”

“I knew it,” the driver said.

The bus bumped up to the curb. “Hold on,
everyone!” the driver yelled. The bus rolled to a stop. “This bus is trouble.”

“Oh, no,” Destiny said. “We’re going to miss the play.”

Gina looked down at the writing-the-play pad. It was filled with little purple yogurt blobs.

“Don’t worry,” the driver said. “Another bus will be along soon.” She began to sing. “Row, row, row your boat …”

The driver was right. In a few minutes, Bus Eight came along.

It was the best one.

Everyone began to rush off Bus Thirteen. Quickly Gina stuck her mostly empty yogurt cup into her purse.

“Want me to put your write-the-play pad in my purse, too?” Gina asked Mitchell. “Plenty of room.”

“Good idea,” Mitchell said.

They climbed onto the new bus.

Gina made sure to hold the purse over her yogurt-splatted pants.

And then they were at the door of the Star Theater.

“Hurry,” said Mrs. Farelli.

Inside, it was dark. Gina didn’t have to worry about yogurt stains and huge purses.

She’d talk to Mitchell about the play later.

She sank down into the plushy seat.

A moment later, the curtain started to rise.

The play was ready to begin.