Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Eyewitness eyewitness (eyewitness), n. A person who actually sees something happen and so can give a first-person account of the event. Jessie stood in the doorway, one foot inside the classroom, one foot outside on the playground. All the other kids had run outside. Everyone except Evan and Megan. They were staying inside to finish their Daily Double. Jessie didn't want to go outside if Megan and Evan weren't there. She still didn't know most of the fourth-graders—not enough to know who was friendly and who wasn't—and she knew she'd probably say the wrong thing to the wrong person

And people would laugh. Or be mean. Or just give her one of those looks—those looks she never understood—and then turn their backs on her. Maybe Jessie could stay inside and read her Independent Reading book instead. It was worth asking. She walked back to her desk and pulled out The Prince and the Pauper. It was a book her grandmother had given to her. Twice, actually. First, Grandma sent it at the beginning of the summer with a note that said, Jessie, I loved this book when I was your age. Then a month later she'd sent another copy of the same book with a note that said, This book made me think of you, Jessie. Hope you enjoy it! Jessie had laughed and said, "I hope she forgets and sends me my birthday money twice!" But Mrs. Treski didn't laugh. She frowned and shook her head and went to the phone to give her mother a call, just to see how she was doing. "Mrs. Overton?" said Jessie. Evan had gone to the boys' room, and Megan was in the hall getting a

drink of water, so the room was empty except for Jessie and her teacher. "Yes, Jessie?" Mrs. Overton looked up from her desk, where she was reading over what the students had written in their Writer's Notebooks that morning. Jessie had written about the fireworks that she and Evan and her mother had watched from their house on Labor Day. She'd used lots of long words, like kaleidoscope and panorama, and vigorous verbs, like exploded and cascading. She thought her paragraph was pretty good. Jessie heard Evan and Megan laughing in the hallway. That stopped her, the way they were laughing together. She didn't want them to see her, staying inside with the teacher during recess. She was pretty sure that Evan would say, "That's not what fourth-graders do." So she mumbled, "Uh, nothing," and carried her book back to her desk. "You should go outside, honey," said Mrs. Overton. "You don't want to miss all of morning recess. Right?"

"Right," said Jessie faintly. She hurried to the back door, the one that opened right onto the playground. When she turned to close the door behindher, she saw Evan and Megan walking into the classroom from the hallway. They both looked pretty happy, considering that they were missing recess and had to do math. Outside, a handful of girls were sitting at the picnic table, folding origami flowers. Some of the fourth-graders were swinging and sliding on the Green Machine. About eight or nine were playing kickball. All of Evan's friends—Paul and Ryan and Adam and Jack—were shooting baskets, along with Scott Spencer. Where should Jessie go? She wondered if the boys were still talking about the 20/20 so she drifted over to the basketball hoop. She sat down on the grass and pretended to concentrate on her book, but really she was listening to the boys' conversation. Jessie overheard Paul ask Scott, "How'd you save up that much?" They weren't playing a real game, just shooting free throws from

the line. "Lots of ways," said Scott. Paul bounce-passed the ball to Scott, and he took his shot. And missed. Jessie was glad to see that. "Like what?" asked Adam. "I did a lot of chores around the house." "There's no way you saved up that much money from doing chores," said Adam. "I did, too," said Scott. Now he held on to the ball and dribbled it in place. Ryan held up his hands for it —it was his turn to shoot—but Scott wouldn't give it up. "What're you saying?" "I'm saying what I said," said Adam. "There's no way you saved up that much money just from chores." What he's saying, thought Jessie, is that you stole all our lemonade money from Evan, and everybody knows it! If only someone had seen him take it. If only there'd been an eyewitness—like the crime shows on TV! Then Scott wouldn't have gotten off... scot-free.

A shadow fell across the page of her book. Jessie looked up, and there was David Kirkorian standing next to her. Jessie still didn't know a lot of the fourth-graders, but David Kirkorian was legendary throughout the school. Everyone said he had all kinds of weird collections at his house. He kept a jar of peach pits on his dresser, and he added a new one every time he ate a peach. He had a box full of shoelaces from every shoe he'd ever worn. He even had a large brown envelope filled with his own toenail clippings. At least, that's what everybody said, though Jessie was pretty sure that no one had actually seen the envelope. "You're not allowed to read outside during recess," said David. "I never heard of that rule," said Jessie. "Just because you don't know a rule doesn't mean it isn't a rule." David started picking at one of his fingernails, and Jessie wondered if he collected those, too.