hoping that maybe I could spend lunch with him instead.
His hair smelled like watermelon, and his earlobes had fuzz. Soft, blond fuzz.
And I wondered about that. How does a boy with such black hair wind up with blond ear fuzz? What’s it doing there, anyway?
I checked my own earlobes in the mirror but couldn’t find much of anything on them, and I didn’t spot any on other people’s either.
I thought about asking Mr. Mertins about earlobe fuzz when we were discussing evolution in science, but I didn’t.
Instead, I spent the year whispering spelling words, sniffing watermelon, and wondering if I was ever going to get my kiss.
Bryce: Buddy, Beware!
Seventh grade brought changes, all right, but the biggest one didn’t happen at school – it happened at home.
Granddad Duncan came to live with us. At first it was kind of weird because none of us really knew him. Except for Mom, of course.
And even though she’s spent the past year and a half trying to convince us he’s a great guy,
from what I can tell, the thing he likes to do best is stare out the front-room window.
There’s not much to see out there except the Bakers’ front yard,
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