Free Molly McGinty Has a Really Good Day by Gary Paulsen

“Don't you think Sparkleberry lipstick would be a good idea, cookie?”
    Molly McGinty looked up at her grandmother from the math notes covering her desk and took a deep calming breath to prepare herself for the day ahead: Senior Citizens’ Day at Our Lady of Mercy Middle School.
    Molly had been sitting at the desk in her bedroom since five-thirty that morning trying to quiz herself on math formulas, or was it formulae (another thingto look up). Her grandmother had been awake just as long, constantly interrupting.
    “All I'm saying, doll, is that you might want to add a little jazz to your image. I mean, you are in the sixth grade now and it might be a good thing to … well, have some fun with your look.” Irene Flynn looked at her granddaughter critically from her place before the mirror as she added yet another string of beads to her own glittering neck.
    Yes, Molly reflected, Irene would think more sparkle was in order, considering her own “ensemble” that day, chosen in honor of her unbroken attendance record at the annual Senior Citizens’ Day. Irene hadn't missed an opportunity to visit Molly's school since kindergarten. Sometimes Molly dreamt about the visits, all six of them. The dreams were always nightmares.
    “Now that we're attending social functions together, call me Irene,” Molly's grandmother had instructed her when she first began to attend school events. “I'm on a first-name basis with all my dearest friends.”
    That day Irene had already been talked out of thehat with the feather. Molly had successfully argued that it would block the view of the blackboard for anyone unlucky enough to be seated within eight rows behind her. But Irene could not be persuaded that purple suede jeans were a bit loud for a school day.
    “The salesgirl said
all
the kids were wearing these.” Irene had pivoted in front of the mirror, admiring her new clothes. Molly hadn't known whether to tell her grandmother that she was far from being a kid, that Our Lady had a uniform-only dress code or that she'd been victimized by a saleslady working on commission.
    Molly sighed and turned back to concentrate on the math notes she'd borrowed. She'd fallen asleep at her desk the night before, resting her head on the pile of textbooks, index cards, other kids’ illegible class notes and, apparently, her pencil—if the groove in her cheek that spelled out TICONDEROGA NO. 2 was any indication.
    Not only was she facing perhaps the most brutal math test ever given and an entire day at school with Irene in tow, but the day before, Molly had lost her notebook.
    Her Notebook that Contained Everything She Needed to Live.
    Molly McGinty was organized. Very organized. Exceedingly organized. Everyone knew that about her. And the key to her organization was a multi-pocketed three-ring binder that she carried everywhere.
    She had spent countless hours straightening and rearranging her notebook, getting it just so—no, getting it perfect. Molly's notebook wasn't just a place to keep paper and to put work sheets: it was a repository for valuable information.
    She kept her homework in the school section (every class in a different-colored folder, of course) along with a cross-referenced listing of test schedules and the due dates of large projects and important papers. She was especially proud of her system for keeping track of when to return library books, a structured grid laid out by date and time of day. Two years earlier she had been reading a book about the Wright brothers and their first flight at Kitty Hawk that contained an old photo showing the inside of the shack the men lived in while gettingready for the first powered flight. On the wall of the shack was a wooden rack full of eggs, which they ate for breakfast. The book said that each egg was numbered in order of freshness so that the oldest egg could be eaten first.
    Molly had nearly cried; she understood the Wright brothers perfectly and knew,
knew,
that their organizational