Free EllRay Jakes is a Rock Star! by Sally Warner Page B

to ride in that ATV with the flames.
    â€œJared’s dad might have cooler stuff,” Kevin says, defending his father, “but I’ll bet my dad has a ton more money than him. Because he doesn’t spend it all on ATVs, that’s why. He saves it.”
    The girls are looking uncomfortable by now, but none of them walks away.
    â€œJared’s dad has a lot of money, too,” Stanley argues. “He wears solid gold jewelry and everything.”
    And I am thinking two things. First, Stanley is making Mr. Matthews sound like an ATV-driving rap star, if there is such a thing, only he’s not. Mr. Matthews is just a regular dad—if you can have someone extreme like Jared for your kid and still be regular.
    Second, how did we end up talking about whose dad makes the most money? We were talking about tallness! Then we were talking about stuff . How did this lunch period turn into a bragging contest about whose family is the richest—when so many other kids’ families are having money troubles?
    Maybe even kids here at Oak Glen Primary School.
    I already know I could never win this contest, because college professors like my dad don’t make a ton of money. Not to hear him tell it. Not compared to some people.
    And people who want to write fantasy books for grown-ups make even less.
    So how can I compete?
    What do I have to brag about?
    I have to FIND SOMETHING!

2
    GETTING READY FOR VALENTINE’S DAY
    â€œPsst,” Emma whispers later that day. “Are you done with the red marker?”
    â€œYeah,” I say gloomily, snapping the lid on and handing it over. I was drawing a huge ladybug with stingers and fangs, but whatever.

    â€œIsn’t this so much fun ?” she asks.
    Valentine’s Day is a huge deal at Oak Glen Primary School—for the girls, anyway.
    All the boys in school say they hate it, not counting the ones in kindergarten—but I think kindergarten boys only like Valentine’s Day because of the treats.
    In the third grade, it’s different. But at least Valentine’s Day is a change, because other than that, nothing interesting happens at school between Christmas vacation and spring break.
    At our school, nobody worries about kids’ feelings getting hurt because they didn’t get enough valentines, which is the way it used to be in the olden days, my mom says. Our school has strict rules about giving people valentines.
    1. If you send a valentine to one kid in your class, you have to send valentines to everyone. Even girls-to-girls and boys-to-boys, which is just embarrassing. But you can send funny ones if you want. Funny, but not too gross.
    2. Also, the valentines can’t have candy or glitter or confetti in them, because of the custodian’s temper.
    3. And you can’t open your cards until the school day is almost over.
    But getting ready for Valentine’s Day is a pain, because I have to figure out what kind of valentines I am going to send—to the kids in my class, to Ms. Sanchez, and to my mom and my little sister.
    Not to my dad, of course. That’s just not us.
    Alfie has already informed me that a card to her is required , and it had better be good.
    We have been making valentines in class today, because Friday is art day. Ms. Sanchez is probably relieved that Valentine’s Day is coming, because she can never figure out what to do when we have art. She gloms on to any theme she can: Thanksgiving, President’s Day, Arbor Day, you name it. We cover all the Days.
    Today is the last Friday we have to work on our cards, though, because like I said, Valentine’s Day is in exactly one week.
    â€œI’m making mine all the same, so I’ll finish first. I’ll win,” Stanley tells us. He has a stack of folded construction paper pieces in front of him, and he is scrawling a heart on the outside of each one with a black marker, and a question mark on the inside. He’s like a cartoon guy