Somebody on This Bus Is Going to Be Famous Read Free

stop sign where Mrs. B carefully looks both ways before turning south on the highway.
    Kaitlynn wants to know what everybody did for summer vacation, because her family just returned from a fabulous two weeks at Yellowstone and Glacier National Parks. Matthew shrugs when she asks him, and Bender claims he had to change his name and go into the witness protection program for two months.
    Jay took a road trip to North Carolina with his grandparents, followed by a week at Pop Warner football camp. Spencer can top that: a physics camp in St. Louis that you had to have straight A’s and three teacher recommendations to get into. Spencer plays down that part, but everybody knows he’s brilliant.
    Shelly is already thinking about next summer: “There’s this two-week program in Glendale, California—right next to Hollywood. It’s called Shooting Star camp. This really cute guy who plays bass in a band called Schrödinger’s Reptile—he caught my act at the fair and he said I should definitely try to get in. So I sent for the application.”
    â€œYou’re bound to get in,” Miranda says. “Just send them a DVD of your fair show.”
    â€œOh, that was amateur,” Shelly says. “For a real demo, I’ve got to rent a studio—”
    â€œHey!” Igor breaks into the conversation. “We went to Disney World. In Florida. The whole family.” He jumps up and begins singing “It’s A Small World After All.”
    â€œSit down, Igor!” Mrs. B calls from the front.
    The bus is slowing down, signaling a turn.
    Kaitlynn sits up so quickly her glasses bounce. She stretches her neck and twitches her nose like a rabbit. “We’ve never stopped here before!”
    Mrs. B has made a right turn, and a green sign flashes by: Farm Road 152. For about a quarter of a mile, the bus shudders down a gravel lane pitted with washouts, coming to a crossroads. Three mailboxes are lined up on a board at the southwest corner of the intersection, the names on them so faded they can’t be read. No houses in sight, but at the opposite corner sits a neat little three-sided shed, with a peaked shingled roof and a bench inside where one can wait for the bus on a windy or rainy day.
    But no one is waiting there.
    Mrs. B pulls even with the shed. Then, with her signal beeping, she backs into the crossroads. After a short pause, she heads out the way they came, up the bumpy gravel road toward the highway.
    â€œWhat’s up with that?” Bender yells from the back seat. “Is there a new kid on the route?”
    â€œSupposed to be,” Mrs. B replies. And that’s all she’ll say, even though Kaitlynn wants to know who the new kid is, or at least what’s its name, and is it a girl or a boy and what grade is it in? Mrs. B doesn’t say, only gooses the accelerator after reaching the highway. Before long, everybody forgets about the new stop, and the robbery and the police car, because it’s the first day of school and other thoughts crowd their minds. Such as:
    I need to set my own goals this year—but how?
    Does Penelope Gage still hate me?
    Did Mr. Kennedy ever figure out I’m the one who let the gerbil out of its cage and it died under his desk and stunk up the whole science room?
    Am I going to do something great this year?
    Can I sneak into school without catching the eye of Jeremy Castle, who promised to beat me up the next time I cross his path?
    How can I get somebody important to notice me?
    How can I get Coach Baker to not notice me?
    Why doesn’t everybody just leave me alone?
    It’s only eight miles to school, but with all the curves and hills and stops along the route, the trip will take twenty-five minutes on average. So the riders who got on at Hidden Acres are stuck with each other for nearly an hour each day, round- trip, and everyone thinks they know all they need to know about everyone else. But they’re