Author/Uploaded by Sara Farizan
Contents Title Page Dedication Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen ...
Contents Title Page Dedication Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen About the Author Copyright Guide Cover Title Page Dedication Contents Chapter One Copyright Pagebreaks of the print version Cover Page iii v 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 217 iv Title Page Dedication Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen About the Author Copyright Lately it feels like everyone has found their thing. I guess I was absent the day I was supposed to do that. I miss kindergarten. I was really good at being five. Was that my best year? I mean, is that when I reached my peak? Now that I’m in middle school, it seems to me that everyone has figured out who they’re going to be and what they’re going to be great at. I haven’t found my thing yet, but whatever it is, I hope I find it soon. I tried joining robotics club, but every time I got near a soldering iron … well, let’s just say I’m glad the fire extinguisher was nearby. I tried out for the school play, but I forgot my lines during my audition. I was offered the role of a tree. But that would have meant I would be the only tree onstage—as everyone else who auditioned got a part with lines. I thought that wasn’t the best use of my time. Chess club was a little too quiet. Debate club was a little too loud. I tried out for soccer because my best friend, Melanie Choi, is a star on the team, but it wasn’t for me. There was a lot of running involved … while having to do other stuff at the same time as the running. But there was one school activity that I knew everyone who wanted to participate in could. And that’s where I find myself now. “Lila?” Mr. Hernandez says from the front of the band room. “Yes?” I ask. I glance at my fellow bandmates seated behind their instruments. It feels nice to be a part of a group, even if it is a small one. “You’re the big finish,” Mr. Hernandez reminds me. “Oh! Right. Sorry,” I say. I do my part in band practice. I hit the triangle. Mr. Hernandez says I can work my way up to a more complicated instrument when I feel ready. “Thank you. Please, don’t forget your cue next time,” he says warmly. The other eight kids in band don’t laugh because they aren’t so hot at their instruments either. Well, except for Carolina. She’s really good at piano, but she plays outside school at fancy recitals. She’s very nice about it, but if I were as good at piano as she was, I’d play all the time and let everyone know it was me playing. Did you hear that Chopin down the hall? The music that made your heart swell? Yeah, that was me! I know! I’m so good! “If there is a next time,” Jimmy says under his breath. I think he’s always in a gloomy mood because of what he plays. He sees himself as a drums guy, but his parents got him an oboe. “What does that mean, if there’s a next time?” Carolina asks. Mr. Hernandez lets out a sigh. It’s the kind of sigh teachers make when it’s the end of the week before spring vacation and nobody pays attention in class anymore. “I was holding off on letting everyone know until later in the semester,” Mr. Hernandez says, “but band may be coming to an end.” “What?” Veronica on flute says. “What about our concert?” “The concert will still happen,” Mr. Hernandez says. “However, due to budget cuts and lack of interest, the school is considering dropping the music program next year.” Just when I was finally getting the hang of the triangle! I feel like my dings are really making an impact! “Isn’t there anything we can do?” I ask. “We’ll figure something out,” Mr. Hernandez says, but he’s making that face grown-ups make when they don’t know what to do. My best friend, Melanie, runs up to me from the soccer field sideline. Her face is sweaty and her black