Free Don't Make Me Smile by Barbara Park Page B

be found. I tried blowing it away myself by sneezing on it really hard. But that didn’t work, either. I think all the tape was weighing it down.
    When I finally got home, I decided to take the note to my room first before giving it to my mother. I thought that maybe I could hold it up to the light and read a few words. But when I looked through the envelope, all I could see was that the note was folded into a tiny little wad. Good old Mrs. Fensel. She knew every trick in the book.
    The stupid thing was, I really didn’t need to read the note at all. I knew exactly what it was going to say. And trust me, Mom wasn’t going to be too thrilled about it.
    My grades hadn’t been very good lately. In fact, the highest mark I had gotten that week was a D+ in spelling. I would have gotten a C-, but I forgot to capitalize
Russia.
    Personally, I think it’s really stupid to count a word wrong just because you didn’t use a capital. It’s not that you’re using the wrong letter, it’s just that you’ve used it in an alternative size.
    As I stood there with that note, I thought about how much trouble I was going to be in. For the first time in five weeks, I began to think about running away from home again. When it comes to getting good grades, my mother is really tough.
    I knew exactly what she would do. She would read the note and then call me into the living room for a little “talk.” And if there’s one thing that I hate, it’s one of my mother’s little “talks” about schoolwork.
    First, she starts out by telling me how she isn’t going to yell or scold me. Then she yells and scolds me. After that, she starts taking away all of the fun things that I like to do and tries to make it seem like it’s for my “own good.” That way, she doesn’t feel so mean.
    The more I thought about it, the dumber it seemed to actually give Mom the note at all. I mean, if I already knew what she was going to say, what was the point of bothering her with it? Instead, I could give myself my own little “talk” and save her the trouble.
    â€œOkay,” I said to myself. “I promise that I’ll watch less TV and study harder.”
    There. Now my poor mother wouldn’t have to feel so mean about yelling at me. What a thoughtful son I was to spare her that.
    Besides, Mrs. Fensel hadn’t specifically told me to
give
my mother the note. All she had said to do was to be sure Mom
saw
it. So, if my mother saw the envelope, I wouldn’t be doing anything wrong.
    Mom was in the kitchen. I grabbed the note and went in to say hello.
    We talked for a while about the usual stuff. Then finally, I headed for my room again. Right before I left the kitchen, I dropped the note on the floor.
    I picked it right up and kept on going.
    â€œWhat was that?” asked my mother.
    â€œNothing,” I called from the hall. “It’s just a note that someone wrote at school. No big deal.”
    When I got back to my room, I felt much better. Now I wouldn’t be lying when I told Mrs. Fensel that my mother saw the note. There’s no doubt about it … I am definitely a clever kid.
    Now that the matter was settled, there really wasn’t any reason why I couldn’t open the note and read it. No one would ever know. And I was really dying to see what Mrs. Fensel had written about me.
    I tried to tear open the envelope with my hands but the tape was too thick. “Is this what you call trust, Mrs. Fensel?” I growled.
    Finally, I managed to slit open the bottom of the envelope with my pen. I pulled the note out and began reading:
    Dear Mrs. Hickle,
    This note is to let you know that your son, Charles, has been doing very poorly with his schoolwork. In the past week, he has had no grade higher than a D+.
    Mrs. Hickle, I do understand that Charles has been having some problems at home, and I have tried to be understanding. But he’s