Read Remembering Mrs. Rossi (9780763670900) for Free Online Page A

liked me a lot. Even the time I said Pamela Miller was fat, she didn’t stay mad.” Annie sighs. “Mrs. Levine understood a little first grader couldn’t be perfect every second of the day.”
    “Yes, Mrs. Levine understood a great many things about first graders.”
    “Miss Meadows doesn’t understand anything at all about third graders.” Annie is getting sadder by the minute.
    “Professor Rossi! Over here!” The group her father calls his Senior Writing Seminar kids are waiting under a big leafy tree. These kids (according to her father) like writing stories, and every Tuesday someone gets to read his or her story to the rest of the class.
    “Hello, writers!” Professor Rossi picks up his pace and calls, “Come on, Annie!”
    “But I’m in the middle of
my
story,” Annie mumbles as her father settles under the tree with his students. Apparently, their stories are more interesting than hers. Fine! She’ll sit under another tree, then — a
nearby
tree, where she can spy on her father and his dumb old class. There are five boy writers and four girl writers lounging over there. Two of the boys and three of the girls have kicked off their shoes! Annie pulls off her shoes and puts them on the grass next to her school bag. She wraps her arms around her knees, crushing her good dress. Professor Rossi waves and Annie waves back. She makes sure it is a sad little wave so he remembers Miss Meadows doesn’t like her anymore. Miss Meadows, who makes you go to the school office and sit there all by yourself during recess . . .
    “Annie? Is that Annie Rossi?”
    Annie squints into the late afternoon sun.
Miss Meadows?
Impossible. Not now. Not here at the university. Why, you never see your teacher in the
world
! Only in school.
    “What a wonderful surprise!” And here she is, Annie’s very own teacher, sitting on the grass beside Annie, acting as if she hadn’t been mean that very morning. “I
thought
I recognized your father with his class over there.”
Smiling
of all things, and
pretending
to be friendly! “It must be so much fun to teach outside on a day like this . . .”
    Maybe, if she weren’t so mad at Miss Meadows, Annie would be friendly back. Maybe she would even
like
having her teacher all to herself. But, of course, she
is
mad, and she intends to
stay
mad for the rest of her life.
    “By the way, Annie, I looked over your spelling homework this afternoon and,
bravo,
your sentences are wonderful,” says Miss Meadows. “I was hoping you might read them to the class tomorrow. We all appreciate the way you turn your spelling homework into these
catchy
little stories.”
    “Catchy little stories!”
Annie is beginning to feel a little less mad at Miss Meadows.
    “Oh, and this fell out of your notebook.” Miss Meadows digs in her school bag. “It seemed rather special, so I put it in my bag for safekeeping,” she explains. “Here, Annie.”
    “My picture!” Annie gasps with relief.
Don’t cry now! Not in front of your teacher!
    “Cute girl.” Miss Meadows looks carefully at the picture, then Annie, then again at the picture. “She looks just like you.”
    “It’s my mother,” Annie whispers.
    “I thought it might be,” Miss Meadows whispers back.
    Annie puts the picture in her blue school bag. It’s best not to think about her mother right now. She needs to concentrate on something else — on making Miss Meadows like her again.
But how,
Annie wonders,
how, how, how?
Miss Meadows likes children who are
kind
and children who show
respect.
Why, she is always telling the kids in room 107, “We must be
respectful
and
kind,
boys and girls!” But Annie
is
respectful! And
extremely
kind! Didn’t she make breakfast today in honor of her father’s birthday? And bring cupcakes to his office?
    “Today is my father’s birthday,” Annie hears herself tell Miss Meadows. “We had cupcakes in his office. My idea,” she adds with just the right touch of modesty, “so he wouldn’t be