Free Bases Loaded by Mike Knudson Page B

ending to a crazy week.

11
    Pictures and Dorkwads
    MRS. GIBSON RETURNED the next week, and everything was back to normal. Lizzy was back to sucking up to Mrs. Gibson. Graham was back to throwing out his vegetables. And David was back to moving his desk up by Mrs. Gibson’s for doing something bad.
    On Wednesday, Mr. Worley announced that class pictures would be passed out at the end of the day. I looked over at Graham. He was wiggling around in his seat and quietly clapping his hands underneath his desk. Later that day at lunch recess, Graham said, “After school I’m going to trade pictures with Kelly. Are you going to get one from Heidi?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I answered.
    Graham looked at me like I was crazy. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
    â€œI mean, I don’t have a wallet like you. And besides, what if she doesn’t want to give me one or doesn’t want mine?”
    Graham shook his head like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Who cares?” he said. “When you ask someone for their picture, there’s no way they would say no. That would just be rude.”
    â€œI don’t know, we’ll see,” I said.
    Just before school ended, Mrs. Gibson passed out the pictures. We all opened them to see how we looked. Even with my girl shirt, I thought mine looked pretty good. Lizzy took out her biggest picture, the one that your mom usually hangs on the wall at home. She brought it to Mrs. Gibson.
    â€œHere, this is for you,” Lizzy said, setting the photo on Mrs. Gibson’s desk.
    â€œThat’s very sweet of you, Lizzy. But I couldn’t take this big picture—your parents would be so sad.” Lizzy looked heartbroken.
    â€œHow about this,” Mrs. Gibson quickly added.

    â€œWhy don’t you take them home and ask your mother if she could spare one of these small pictures, and you can bring it to me tomorrow?” Now Lizzy looked thrilled.
    The final bell rang, and we all stormed the door—except Graham. He ran toward the back of the class to the tables where we do our art projects. Grabbing a pair of scissors, he carefully cut out one of the eight wallet-size photos from his sheet.
    â€œCome on, man,” I said.
    â€œAlmost done,” Graham answered. Then he threw the scissors back into the plastic tray with the other art stuff, and we ran out the door.
    Once outside, Graham spied Kelly by the crosswalk.
    â€œI’ll be back,” he told me. He sprinted to catch up with her. His backpack swung around and hit Diane as he passed by.
    â€œHey, watch it!” Diane shouted. She turned around and asked me, “What’s the deal with Graham?” Diane and Heidi waited for me to catch up with them.
    â€œHe’s trying to trade pictures with Kelly,” I said. Then I thought, This is my chance. I could ask both Diane and Heidi if they wanted to trade pictures. Then it wouldn’t look like I was just trying to get Heidi’s picture.
    â€œSo do you guys want to trade pictures?” I asked.
    â€œNo,” Diane said. “I only bought the class picture and the big one.”
    â€œI bought the whole package, so I have eight of the small wallet pictures,” Heidi said. “But after I give one to my grandparents, Diane, the mailman, and some of my neighbors, I don’t think I’ll have any extras.”
    I stood there not knowing what to think. Even the mailman gets one before me? Then I saw a smile start to spread onto Heidi’s face.
    â€œI’m just kidding! Sure, let’s trade,” she said. Just then Graham made it back.
    â€œShe’s going to cut one out at home and bring it to me tomorrow,” he proudly informed us. We all walked home together laughing about what the mailman would think if we asked him to trade pictures.
    Another week passed, and it was like Mrs. Gibson had never even been gone. The best part was that during those