Free EllRay Jakes Stands Tall by Sally Warner

scary woom.”
    Room. “
Maybe we can even do something fun on Friday night,” I say, hoping to make her feel better. “You and me, Alf. Like play a board game or something.”
    This is a big sacrifice on my part. With Alfie,board games usually end with all the pieces flying through the air when she starts to lose.
    â€œCan we play that candy game, or the one with the ladders?” Alfie asks, already excited.
    â€œSure,” I say, hiding my sigh.
    I’m taking one for the team, yo.
    â€œOkay,” she says, sounding a little happier, at least. “Will you help me clean off this pillow, EllWay? Because someone spilled peanut butter all over it.”
    â€œSomeone did?” I ask, smiling. “Sure. I’ll help,” I say. “But then I gotta go do my homework, Alf.”
    It’s subtraction word problems tonight.
Woo-hoo.
    â€œHomework sounds scary,” Alfie says, her voice turning small. “Will I have to do homework when I’m in kindergarten?”
    â€œNuh-uh,”
I tell her. “Why?” I ask. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
    â€œKinda,” Alfie admits. “And not knowing what schools my friends are gonna be going to. So I thought we could start practicing at the party—and be together
now
, at least.” Her brown eyes are wide and shiny again with tears that are about to fall.
    â€œWell, I could help out a little,” I say, hidinganother sigh—because of course I would rather play
Die, Creature, Die
than teach Alfie how to sharpen pencils and snap the lids on to her markers right. Who wouldn’t? “We could play pretend kindergarten,” I say.
    â€œWeally?” she asks, blinking.
    Really. “
Sure,” I tell her. “If it would make you feel better about changing schools. Only you can’t tell anyone, okay?” I add, thinking of the teasing that might happen at Oak Glen Primary School if word got out that I was playing kindergarten with my little sister.
    Alfie presses her lips together until they disappear, and she makes an X across them with a peanut-buttery finger. “
I pwomise,
” she manages to say out of the corner of her mouth.
    â€œIt’s a deal, then,” I say. “We’ll start on Friday night, while we’re warming that bench.”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œNever mind,” I say, standing up—because I have to get started on those subtraction word problems, don’t I?
    They’re not gonna solve themselves!

20
    "BEEF"
    â€œWoo!” I say, slapping Corey’s palm in a high-five. We thought Wednesday morning recess—and our pre-basketball session with Coach—would never happen, but now it’s here.
    Corey’s probably a little bit happier about recess than I am, since he’s not the one who was threatened with “payback, dude,” by Jared the Hulk, or who got made fun of by Stanley for being so short.
    But at least it’s recess.
    â€œLine up,” Coach shouts as we pour onto the playground. Coach is nearer one of the baskets today than he was on Monday. He looks bigger than ever. “Now, now!” he says, tossing us balls as we trot to our places. “Remember your stance, and keep those balls moving,” he tells us. “Pivot in
both directions
, too, or else you’re just going around in a circle,” headds, making a face. “Remember, you’ve got two hands and two feet.
Use
’em.”
    â€œWhen do we get to
play basketball
?” Jared mumble-says, complaining just loud enough for Coach to hear.
    â€œWhen you’re ten,” Coach says. “Until then, it’s pre-basketball. Pretend you’re the sorcerer’s apprentice, buddy—and I’m the sorcerer. You’ll be ready for the real thing later on—if you keep your eyes and ears open
now.
And
if
you keep practicing.”
    Jared catches my eye, and of course he passes his embarrassment