2 Uh-Oh

CHAPTER TWO UH-OH I HUSTLED BACK to Mr. Willow's class and sat down at our table. I share Table 5, in the back, with Simon and Rosie. "Uh-oh," Rosie said. Rosie is a nickname for Rosa. "What?" I asked. She didn't answer. Instead, she poked Simon with her elbow and nodded her head in my direction.

我匆匆回到威罗先生的教室，在我们的桌旁坐下。 我和西蒙和罗茜一起坐在后面的五号桌。 “哦哦，”罗茜说。罗茜是罗莎的昵称。 “什么?”我问。她没有回答。 相反，她用胳膊肘戳了戳西蒙，朝我的方向点了点头。

Simon looked at me. Simon isn't a nickname for

西蒙看着我。西蒙不是…的昵称

anything. It's just Simon. He said, "Oh no." They nodded at each other and then looked at me some more. "What?" I asked again. Rosie said, "There's something going on with you." "No, there's not." "Yes, there is," Simon said. "What is it?" "Nothing," I answered—even though I knew there really was something. "You're having one of your moments," Rosie said. "We can see it in your eyes." "No, I'm not." "Yes, you are, Molly," Simon said. "We've seen this look, like, a million times. It's the exact same look you got before we jumped into the leaf pile a few weeks ago. I mean, every single leaf? Seriously?" Rosie pleaded, "Just tell us." "Okay," I said. I knew they were right. This thing was not going to get out of my head. "There's a mason jar on Principal Shelton's desk. It's the kind of jar my mom uses to make raspberry jam. She gives the jam out at Christmas." "What's so special about the jar on Principal Shelton's desk?" asked Simon.

任何东西。是西蒙。 他说：“哦，不。”他们互相点了点头，然后又看了看我。 “什么?”我又问。罗茜说：“你有点不对劲。” “不，没有。”“是的，有，”西蒙说。 “什么事？”“没什么，”我回答——尽管我知道确实有些事情。 罗茜说：“你正经历着属于你的时刻。” “我们可以从你的眼睛里看出来。” “不，我不是。”“是的，莫莉，”西蒙说。 “我们已经看过这种表情无数次了。 你的表情和几周前我们跳进树叶堆前一模一样。 我是说，每一片叶子？ 严重吗?”罗茜恳求道：“告诉我们吧。” “好吧，”我说。我知道他们是对的。 这件事一直萦绕在我的脑海里。 “谢尔顿校长的桌子上有一个石匠罐子。 这是我妈妈用来做覆盆子酱的罐子。 她在圣诞节分发果酱。” “谢尔顿校长桌子上的罐子有什么特别的？”西蒙问。

I answered, "It's full of Skittles." "And?" Rosie asked. "I want to know how many Skittles are in that jar," I whispered. I had to be quiet because Mr. Willow doesn't like talking. I'd seen Simon get in trouble enough to know that. He can be a total chatterbox sometimes. Mr. Willow has even called Simon's parents before. And I definitely didn't want that to happen to me. "I need to know how many Skittles are in that jar." "We can't sneak into the principal's office, dump out a bunch of Skittles, count them, and then put them back without anyone noticing," Rosie said. "We'll totally get caught."

我回答说：“里面全是彩虹糖。” “然后呢?”罗西问道。“我想知道那个罐子里有多少彩虹糖，”我低声说。 我必须保持安静，因为威罗先生不喜欢说话。 我看过西蒙惹的麻烦，知道这一点。 他有时真是个喋喋不休的人。 威罗先生之前甚至给西蒙的父母打过电话。 我绝对不希望这种事发生在我身上。 “我需要知道那个罐子里有多少颗彩虹糖。” “我们不能溜进校长办公室，倒出一堆彩虹糖，数完数，然后在没人注意的情况下放回去，”罗茜说。 “我们会被抓住的。”

"And totally suspended," Simon added. "I need to know," I said. "It's one thing to not jump into the leaves until every single leaf in the yard is in the pile, Molly," Rosie said, shaking her head. "And then if another leaf falls, we have to stop jumping, go get that leaf, and add it to the pile. But this is different." Simon agreed, "Way different." All I said was, "I need to know." "This could mean, like, getting into serious trouble

“而且完全被停职了，”西蒙补充道。 “我需要知道，”我说。“在院子里的每一片叶子都堆起来之前，不要跳进树叶里是一回事，莫莉，”罗西摇着头说。 “然后，如果另一片叶子掉下来，我们必须停止跳跃，去捡那片叶子，把它加到堆里。 但这是不同的。”西蒙表示同意，“完全不同。” 我只是说“我需要知道” “这可能意味着，比如，陷入严重的麻烦

at school," Rosie said, still shaking her head. "And at home," added Simon. "I need to know." Rosie looked at Simon. Simon looked at Rosie. Then they both looked at me. We were good friends. Best friends even. They knew me. They knew nothing would change my mind. "You need to know," Simon said. "I need to know." "Okay," Rosie said. She twirled her hair around her left index finger. I knew this was a good sign. "We're going to need a plan." But we couldn't come up with a Skittles-snatchingand- counting strategy right then. That's because Mr. Willow was already walking toward us. "Table 5," he said in a voice a little louder than usual. "Quiet down. Everybody get your composition books out."

在学校，”罗西说，仍然摇着头。 “在家里，”西蒙补充说。 “我需要知道。”罗茜看着西蒙。 西蒙看着罗西。然后他们都看着我。 我们是好朋友。甚至是最好的朋友。 他们认识我。他们知道什么也改变不了我的想法。 “你需要知道，”西蒙说。 “我需要知道。”“好吧，”罗茜说。 她把头发绕在左手食指上。 我知道这是个好兆头。 “我们需要一个计划。” 但我们当时无法想出一个抢彩虹和数彩虹的策略。 那是因为威罗先生已经朝我们走来了。 “5号桌，”他用比平时高一点的声音说。 “安静下来。每个人都把作文本拿出来。”