Free The Life of Ty: Penguin Problems by Lauren Myracle

CHAPTER ONE
    T oday, my big sister Sandra is taking me to school. She pulls into the drop-off lane and tells me to walk in by myself. She says, “Ty, you’re seven years old. You can do this.”
    â€œI know,” I say, because of course I can. I can do tons of things. When a spider needs rescuing in our house, I’m the one who does it. At school, on the playground, I’m famous for jumping from one wobbly mushroom thing to the next without falling. Also, I’m excellent at growing head-hair, which is good because it means I’m not bald.
    I’m just not ready to go in this very second . It’s more fun to sit in the car and watch for a while. Linnea’s mom follows Linnea with a bakery box, which means it’s probably Linnea’s birthday and she’s going to give out cupcakes. My book partner, Price, runs ahead of his mom and tugs on the heavy glass door. Only he’s a preschooler, so his mom has to sneakily reach up high and help him.
    My other sister, Winnie, twists around in the front seat. She’s younger than Sandra, but older than me. “You like school,” she reminds me. “You’ll get to see Lexie. You’ll get to be Bad Scary Dry Cleaners together.”

    â€œNo, because Bad Scary Dry Cleaners ended a long time ago,” I say.
    Now Lexie and I are Boingees, which means we put our arms in our shirts and squat and hop all over the playground— boingee boingee boingee! Lexie’s friend Breezie is sometimes a Boingee, only hardly ever.
    Breezie doesn’t like me. Winnie says Breezie wants Lexie all to herself.
    Sandra honks. I jump.
    â€œTy. Out,” she says. “ Now .” She reaches back and opens my door. She shoves it so it swings open wider. Next, she shoves me . ON MY BOTTOM.
    â€œSandra!” I cry. I scurry out, but stick my head back in to say, “Sandra, you are so mean!”
    â€œBye,” she says, pulling away from the curb.
    My heart races. She’s not supposed to pull away, zoom, without any warning.
    â€œFine! Bye!” I say. “And you’re not mean. Not all the time. And, Winnie?” I blow a sneaky kiss, which boys are allowed to do.
    â€œCatch it!” I call. “Did you catch it?”
    Winnie leans out her window and grabs it out of the air. She pops it into her mouth. “ Mmm, butterscotch.”
    She kisses her fingers and blows her kiss to me.
    I catch, swallow, and say, “Ew! Dried mouse droppings!”
    Winnie laughs. Her hair whips into her face as Sandra pulls away, and then . . . they’re gone.
    Now I have to go inside. My stomach tightens. Not because I’m nervous, because being nervous is babyish. Being nervous is for first graders or kindergartners.
    But it used to be that Mom took me to school. She walked me all the way to my classroom, and we did our good-byes there.
    Then Teensy Baby Maggie came along.
    Then Sandra started driving me to school. For three whole weeks, she’s driven me to school instead of Mom. At first, she did walk me in. Either she would or Winnie would.
    Then today came along, and bam . Instead of walking me in, Sandra shoved me on my bottom, and Winnie let her.
    Price’s mother comes out of the building, this time without Price. I don’t think she knows I’m Price’s book partner, but she smiles at me anyway. I give her a small smile back. She heads to her car, and I bet she’s thinking, Why is that boy just standing there?
    Probably lots of people are thinking that. All the kids going in, all the parents coming out. I could stand here forever, but I’d get all wrinkly, and everyone would say, “Who’s that old creepy dude who’s always standing there?”
    I start toward the door. Then I stop, because I hear a noise coming from the playground. A kid noise. Only kids aren’t supposed to be on the playground yet. I go to check it out. It's Price. He’s saying