Thirty Day Boyfriend Page 17
Fourth Grade
Carter
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Dear Miss Carpenter,
I am sorry that I was bad in class yesterday. I did not mean to cause a dissrupshun, and I am sorry that I broke your best pens, but I am not sorry that I HATE Arizona Turner.
She is ugly and she talks way too much. I don’t know why you never send her to the office like you send me. She deserves to be punish too, and I hope she dies tomorrow so I won’t have to see her or her ugly metal mouth anymore.
Sincerely,
Carter
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I smiled and handed the letter to my mom, hoping that this time would be the charm—that she wouldn’t make me rewrite it all over again.
I was beyond tired of Arizona getting me into trouble and laughing about it. She thought she was so smart because she knew the answers to all the questions in class, but I knew them, too. Especially because I knew where our teacher kept the answer key and I always stole it at lunchtime.
My parents knew her parents personally because they always had to go to conferences about me “picking on her” and “making her cry,” but no one believed me when I told them that she was the one who started it.
She always started it...
“Carter...” My mom took a deep breath and shook her head. “This is a terrible letter. It’s worse than the last three you wrote.”
“How? I didn’t call Arizona any names this time. I just said I wanted her to die.”
“You don’t think you’re hurting her feelings whenever you call her ugly?”
“She is ugly.”
“She’s not ugly.” My father stepped into the room. “Now, those braces in her mouth might be, but as a whole? She’s pretty cute.”
“Seriously?” My mom glared at him, and he laughed.
“Sorry.” He walked over and patted me on the back. “It’s not nice to call someone ugly, son. No matter how much you hate her. You’ve got to stop letting this Arizona girl get to you. This is the fifth time this year you’ve gotten in trouble.”
“Eighth time.” My mother corrected him. “He pushed her off the swings when she was in mid-air last week.”
My father looked at me. “And what did you do this time?”
I didn’t answer him. I looked down at the floor instead.
“He stood up in the middle of a math test and said, I hate you, Arizona,” my mom said. “He then proceeded to grab the poor girl’s test paper, ball it up, and throw it across the room. He missed and knocked his teacher’s favorite glass pens to the floor.”
Shaking his head, my dad sighed. “Just stop talking to this girl, okay? Don’t even look her way. You’re going to have to learn to ignore her, no matter what. Something tells me she won’t be a ‘lifetime’ person for you anyway. She’s just seasonal, so she’ll go away soon. Trust me.”
“Glad to see you finally acting like an adult about this.” My mom ripped my letter in half and focused her attention on me. “Now, sit down and write a nice letter to your teacher, an even nicer one to Arizona, and tell her that you’re not going to be mean to her anymore. Try to think of something nice to say, too. Maybe mention something about those pretty dresses she always wears?”
I groaned, but I picked up my pen and wrote.
It took me five more letters to get it right since she made me take out the words “stupid,” “hate,” and “die,” but I finally got it perfect around midnight. Then I promised myself that after I gave Arizona my letter tomorrow, I would never ever speak to her again.
***
The next day at school, I set the sorry note on my teacher’s desk super early and walked down the farthest row—plopping down in the very last seat. Then I took out my homework and tried to finish a few more math questions before class started.
I counted four times seven on my fingers and saw Arizona taking the seat next to me.
“Good morning, Carter,” she said.
I pretended that I didn’t hear her.
“Carter?” She tapped my shoulder and I wrote twenty- eight on my paper.
“Hello?” She tapped my shoulder even harder. “Carter? Carter?”
“WHAT?!” I finally looked at her.
“Don’t you have something for me today? Something nice and important?” She smiled her huge mouth of metal.
Ugh. She’s so ugly... “Nope.”
“Your mom didn’t make you write me another ‘I’m very sorry’ note?” She crossed her arms. “Because that’s exactly what she told my mom on the phone this morning.”
“Well, your mom must be deaf and dumb because I didn’t write anything for you.”
“What?” She gasped. “Take that back or I’ll snitch!”
“Go ahead and snitch!” I shrugged, waiting for her to raise her hand and tell on me like always.
She didn’t. She just stared at me. Then she reached into her pocket and tossed a folded note onto my desk.
I wanted to crumple it into a ball and throw it right at her face like I should have done yesterday, but I opened it instead and read.
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Dear Carter,
I am sorry that I made you act bad and break Miss Carpenter’s pens yesterday, but I am not sorry that I HATE you. You are ugly and you talk way too much. That’s why I always get you in trouble because you can’t shut up and you think you know everything BUT YOU DON’T! I really wish you will get hit by a bus one day soon because you suck. You suck A LOT.
Not Sincerely,
Arizona
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We became best friends that very day...
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