Gertie's Leap to Greatness Read Free

who had been examining each other’s new shoes and haircuts looked up at the girl.
    â€œWell, we’re old here,” Jean said, and crossed her arms, too.
    The foot stopped tapping.
    â€œBut we could move,” said Junior quickly, looking from one girl to another. “We could sit in the back or just go away somewhere and … and…”
    Gertie stared at Junior until his voice dried up like a raisin.
    â€œBut Ms. Simms said I could sit here.” The girl smiled. “Because I’m new. I need to sit in the front so I can keep up with everything.”
    New people weren’t the only ones who had special reasons for needing to sit in the front. For instance, Gertie needed the front because when they watched movies she didn’t want to have to look past other people’s heads. And Jean liked the front row because she needed to make sure teachers saw her when she raised her hand. And Junior Jr. hated the front row, but he had to sit there anyway to be with Gertie and Jean.
    â€œMs. Simms didn’t say any such thing,” Gertie said.
    â€œYes, I did.”
    The new girl smiled at someone standing behind Gertie. Slowly, Gertie turned around to see a woman wearing red high heels. Gertie tilted her head way back to face her new teacher. Ms. Simms had square shoulders, round glasses, and a dimple in her chin. She was looking right into Gertie’s face, and she was smiling. Not the stretchy smile that some adults used for kids. She smiled like they were friends.
    â€œMary Sue wanted to be sure she didn’t get left out of anything. She’s new this year.” Ms. Simms put a hand on Gertie’s shoulder. “I told her she could sit here. All the other front-row seats are full. You don’t mind moving, do you?”
    Gertie minded.

    But she wanted her new teacher to know that she was nice and agreeable, because she was. It was this new girl who wasn’t being agreeable. She slowly started to move her shoe box.
    â€œThank you for understanding.” Ms. Simms beamed at her.
    â€œOh, yes, thank you,” said the new girl. She was one of those people who acted nicer when the teacher was watching.
    â€œIf Gertie moves,” said Jean, “then we move, too.” She snatched up her number twos.
    Junior jumped up, knocking over his chair.
    Gertie lifted her chin as she passed the new girl. She might have a front-row seat, but Gertie had two best friends, which was seventeen million times better.
    The new girl settled herself into Gertie’s desk and dusted the top with her sleeve. Gertie glared at the back of her head.
    This new girl was a seat-stealer.
    Once Gertie had figured out what this girl was and put a name to it, she felt better about the whole thing. Seat-stealer, she thought in the nastiest voice she could imagine, and she felt even better.
    â€œI’m Ms. Simms.” Gertie’s new teacher wrote her name on the whiteboard and capped the marker with a pop . “And I can’t wait to hear about all the adventures you had this summer.” Ms. Simms looked at the attendance sheet. “Roy Caldwell, will you start for us?”
    Roy’s left arm was in a plaster cast that might have been lime green once but was now so covered in marker drawings that it was hard to tell. He’d probably broken the arm on purpose, just so he’d have the best summer speech.
    When he got to the front of the room he pointed at his cast. “Bet you’re wondering how I got this. I saw a show on one of those educational channels. I wasn’t watching it for me,” he said, “because I don’t like educational stuff. That stuff’s for losers.”
    Jean hissed.
    â€œNo interrupting,” Ms. Simms said. “Be considerate.”
    Roy ran his good hand through his hair and grinned at Jean. “So anyway, it was about what happens to balloons when they float up to the atmosphere. How they blow apart into a million