Grace.
“He blew it,” I said very disappointed. “Paulie Allen Puffer blew it for our team.”
“Yes,” said that Grace. “Just like when you blew the relay race, Junie B.”
I made squinty eyes at that girl.
“Thank you, Grace. Thank you for reminding me,” I said.
“You're welcome,” she said back.
That Grace does not understand sarcastic, apparently.
After that, lots of other boys and girls in our class threw the softball, too.
Roger threw the farthest in Room Nine. The ball went all the way to the fence.
Room Nine shouted his name real thrilled.
“ROGER! ROGER! ROGER!”
The next person to throw was Strong Frankie.
He picked up a softball from the basket. Then he rolled and rolled it all around inhis hands. And he threw that thing with all his muscles.
I did a gasp.
’Cause the ball flied all the way over the fence! And we never even saw it again!
Room Eight screamed and shouted and skipped and danced. Also, they hopped and jumped and twirled.
Room Nine slumped our shoulders very depressed.
’Cause guess why?
Losing does not feel joyful.
The skipping race came next.
Room Nine chose our fastest skippers.
Their names were Charlotte, Jamal Hall, that Grace, Lynnie, and Meanie Jim.
Those people can skip like lightning, I tell you!
I made up a cheer for them. Its name was GO, SKIPPERS. Here are the words to it:
GO, SKIPPERS! GO, SKIPPERS!
GO, SKIPPERS! GO, SKIPPERS!
I cheered real loud in front of Room Eight. ’Cause I really thought we would win this one.
Only what do you know?
We didn't.
Some of our skippers cried a little bit.
“We got skunked,” said Lynnie very sniffling.
“Skunked
means our score is a goose egg,” said Jamal Hall.
“A goose egg is a big, fat zero,” said that Grace.
“A big, fat zero is when you're stinking up the place,” said Meanie Jim very glum.
Mrs. did not like that kind of talk.
“Hey, hey, hey! That's enough of that,” she said. “I'm very proud of all of you. You did your best and that's all anyone can ask. Right, Junie B.?”
“Yes,” I said. “Plus also, a win would be nice.”
I sat down. Mrs. looked at me a real long time.
“The tug-of-war is the next event,” she said finally. “How about another cheer from our team captain to get us charged up?”
“No, thank you,” I said. “I already did a cheer for the skipping team. And look where that got us.”
Mrs. made squinty eyes at me.
“Try,” she said.
I stood up.
“Rah,” I said.
“Thank you,” said Mrs.
I sat back down.
All of us lined up for the tug-of-war.
Room Eight held on to one side of a rope. And Room Nine held on to the other side.
Mrs. tied a bow right in the middle of it. Then she drew a line on the ground in front of each team.
“Okay, people,” she said. “Whichever team pulls the bow over their own line is the winner. Is everyone ready?”
“YES! YES! YES!” shouted Room Eight.
Room Nine just looked at her.
William was behind me.
“I'm not that good at the tug-of-war, Junie B.,” he whispered. “I never even did the tug-of-war before.”
“Join the club, bud,” I grumped.
After that, the Room Eight teacher blew her whistle. And both our teams started to pull.
Room Nine pulled and pulled with all our strength.
“People! People! We're doing it! We're doing it!” I shouted very shocked.
We pulled some more.
Then, all of a sudden, we heard a loud holler.
It was Strong Frankie.
He yanked the rope as hard as he could.
Then Lynnie and Ricardo fell down inthe grass. And the bow went over the line.
Room Eight went crazy and happy. They were loud and laughing.
Room Nine walked to the water fountain very sad.
Then we sat down next to the building.
And we didn't talk for a real long time.
Finally, Mrs. came and got us.
“Come on, boys and girls. There's justone more event to go,” she said.
She took us to the pull-up bar.
The Room Eight teacher smiled real big.
“All right, everybody. It's time for the pull-up