Free Like Bug Juice on a Burger by Julie Sternberg Page B

up!”
    “We’ll meet you at the bus,” my mom told Joplin,
    “after you say good-bye to your parents.”
    “OK,” Joplin said.
    And she walked off
    the way she’d come.
    “Let’s get this trunk on the bus,” my dad said.
    He took one end,
    and my mom took the other.
    I grabbed my backpack.
    As we all crossed the lot toward the bus,
    my heart started beating faster.
    I hurried to catch up to my dad.
    The trunk wobbled a little
    as I took his hand.
    I could tell it wasn’t easy
    for him to walk
    holding the trunk with one hand
    and me with the other.
    But still,
    he held my hand tight
    until the very last second.
    Then both my parents
    hugged me
    and kissed me

    and reminded me to wear sunscreen and bug spray.
    “Don’t forget to reapply!” my mom said,
    with her hands on my shoulders.
    “It wears off!”
    “I promise,” I told her.
    Suddenly, the head of the junior unit was shouting,
    “All aboard!”
    And Joplin was waiting beside me.
    My mom kissed my head
    one last time
    before letting me go.
    Then,
    feeling very small,
    I followed tall Joplin
    onto the humongous bus.

Joplin let me sit by the window.
    “Thanks,” I said.
    She shrugged.
    “I like to stick my feet out in the aisle,” she said.
    She stuck them right out there, too,
    as soon as she could.
    Other girls settled in around us.
    The driver swished the door shut.
    I looked out the window
    and saw my parents.
    They were standing beside each other,
    shading their eyes with their hands,
    searching the bus windows for me.
    I waved and waved.

    Finally, they saw me
    and waved back.
    Then the bus rolled past,
    and they disappeared.
    I turned—I didn’t want to lose them.
    But they were gone.
    My body slid low in my seat.
    And I thought,
    Why
am I going to this stupid camp?
    Why
did Grandma Sadie send me?
    Why
didn’t I just say
no
?
    “Are you going to vomit?” Joplin asked.
    I thought for a second she could see inside me.
    I thought she knew exactly how I was feeling.
    But when I turned to her,
    surprised,
    I realized she wasn’t talking to me at all.
    She was looking at the girl across the aisle.
    “Me?” that girl said, pointing at herself.
    She had braces and two braids.
    “Yes,” Joplin said. “You.”
    “Why would I
vomit
?”
    the braces girl said.
    Joplin shrugged.
    “Last year a girl got carsick
    and vomited in the aisle.
    I don’t want vomit on my ankles.”
    Braces Girl made a face.
    “That is
disgusting
,” she said.
    “I’m not going to vomit on your ankles.”
    “That’s good,” Joplin said.
    Braces Girl turned away from us then
    and said something to the girl sitting beside her,
    and they both laughed.
    I felt bad for Joplin.
    Because they must have been laughing about her.
    But Joplin didn’t seem to care.
    She just yawned.
    And yawned again.
    “My baby brother,” she said to me.
    “He has an ear infection.
    He screamed all night.
    I couldn’t sleep.”
    “Oh,” I said.
    She closed her eyes and tilted her head.
    “I need to rest for a second,” she said.
    And just like that,
    she fell asleep.

    I watched out my window for a while.
    Rows of brownstones changed
    to bigger buildings
    with signs painted on their sides.
    Like BEST HOT CHICKEN IN BROOKLYN.
    We s-l-o-w-l-y crossed a long bridge
    crowded with cars.
    Then we inched through even more traffic until,
    finally,
    we were zooming up an open highway.
    Buildings started disappearing
    and trees started appearing
    everywhere.
    At some point,
    Joplin’s head fell on my shoulder
    and stayed there,
    bouncing a little with the bus.
    No one had ever slept on my shoulder before.
    Not even Pearl.
    I thought about writing Pearl a letter,
    telling her that my strange new friend
    was bruising my shoulder.

    But I couldn’t get my stationery out of my backpack
    without waking Joplin.
    I kept watching out the window instead,
    as the world outside
    got greener and greener.

Watching out that window
    got boring.
    So I slept, too.
    Eventually, Joplin shook me