Free Anastasia's Chosen Career by Lois Lowry Page A

and prettier—I could see that I wasn't going to be beautiful. I was feeling sorry for myself about that—"
    Her mother interrupted her. "You are beautiful, Anastasia, in your own way," she said.
    "No, Mom. I'm okay-looking. Not a dog or anything. But let's face it, I'm not ever going to be a knockout. All of us Krupniks, we're just nice ordinary-looking people. I was kind of hoping that some miracle would happen when my hair was cut, and it didn't. But you know, it happened for Henry. I stopped feeling sorry for myself the instant I saw it happen for Henry. Because she really wants to be a model, Mom, so she can earn money to go to college. And I don't. Because I'll go to college, anyway. So she was the one who
needed
the miracle. And she got it! Isn't that a terrific thing?"
    Mrs. Krupnik nodded. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and smoothed Anastasia's new, smoother, shorter hair. "You know, Anastasia," she said, "you are a truly nice, nice person."
    "Could you rephrase that as a superlative, Mom?"
    Her mother thought. "You are the nicest person I know," she said. "How's that?"
    Anastasia grinned. "Fine. Thank you." She hung up her own dish towel. "I'm going up to my room to rewrite the beginning of my career paper.
    "Boy," she added, as she left the kitchen, "I sure hope her mother didn't
really
have a heart attack."
    Anastasia Krupnik
    My Chosen Career
    Some of the nicest people in the world are bookstore owners.
    Other extremely nice people should not be bookstore owners because they can have a whole other glamorous career. People who have gloriously shaped heads and bony cheekbones and nice, white, even teeth should not be bookstore owners because instead they can be successful models with their pictures on magazine covers.
    Then they can earn enough money to go to college. Maybe, after college, when they are old, they can be bookstore owners.
    I guess I am not one of those glamorous people, though.

9

    The phone rang while Anastasia's parents were watching
Nova
on TV.
    "Hi! I found your number in the phone book. You're the only Krupnik!"
    Anastasia recognized Henry's voice. "Hi, Henry!" she said. "Is your mom okay? She didn't have a heart attack or anything?"
    Henry laughed. "She made me wash the rouge off, is all."
    "All mothers are alike," Anastasia said. "I bet all mothers hate make-up on thirteen-year-olds."
    "Maybe not all," Henry said. "I bet anything Bambie's mother
buys
her make-up."
    "Yeah." Anastasia laughed.
    "I called to see if maybe you could come have dinner at my house tomorrow night. We could go home together on the T, and then my dad can drive you to your house afterward. He said he wouldn't mind."
    "Great! I'd like that," Anastasia said. "I'll check with my parents. I'm sure they'll say okay."
    "I'll see you in the morning, then. It's gonna be boring tomorrow. Walking and talking, big deal. A
robot
can walk and talk."
    "Yeah. Yuck." Wednesday's schedule at Studio Charmante called for lessons and practice in posture and distinct speech. It
did
sound boring.
    "You wanta have lunch at McDonald's like we did today?"
    "Sure. Oh, wait! I forgot."
    "Forgot what? You can eat lunch. You didn't have to go to diet class with those tubs Robert and Bambie."
    "I know, but I forgot that I promised to have lunch with someone. But, Henry—"
    "What?"
    "I bet anything she wouldn't mind if I brought you along. I'll call her and ask."
    After Anastasia hung up and got an okay from her parents for dinner at the Peabodys' the next night, she dialed the bookstore owner and asked permission to bring her friend for lunch.
    "Of course! Terrific!" Barbara Page said. "I love having company."
    "I'm afraid she won't be able to buy a book," Anastasia explained apologetically. "She's studying to become a model so that she can earn the money to go to college, so—
    "Hey," Barbara Page interrupted, laughing. "I said I love having company. I didn't mean I love having customers."
    ***
    "Whaddaya mean, she had an autographing party