"Find the desk with your name card on it and take your place, please," Ms. Elison directed.

I found the desk labeled "Mary Anne Spier" and sat down. I checked out my fourth-grade cla.s.smates. I counted fifteen kids I'd been in cla.s.ses with before, including Alan Gray. And I recognized all but one of the other ten kids. The one girl who was totally new to me -and to the school - was sitting at the desk next to mine. I sneaked a look at the name card on her desk and read, "April Livingston." I'd never met a girl named April before. I wondered if I'd ever met anyone named after a month. I reviewed the months of the year in my head. Nope. I hadn't even met a "May" or a "June."

April had curly brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail with a red ribbon. She wore jeans and red high-top sneakers. Her light blue sweatshirt announced, "I swam with dolphins." I was already fascinated by April Livingston. - After the princ.i.p.al welcomed us to a new school year over the public address system, Ms. Elison explained our first activity as a cla.s.s. She would a.s.sign us each a partner. The partners were to interview one another and take notes. We would then have fifteen minutes to organize our notes into a paragraph of introduction of the person we interviewed. Then the pairs would go to the front of the room and introduce one another to the cla.s.s.

Ms. Elison called out the names of the pairs.

I hoped with all my heart that Alan Gray would not be my partner. "Mary Anne Spier and April Livingston," Ms. Elison announced.

I looked in April's direction. She smiled and gave me a thumbs-up sign. I smiled back.

Giving a speech in front of the room is not a good way for a shy person like me to start off a new school year. But I tried not to think of the standing-in-front-of-the-room part of the a.s.signment. Instead I concentrated on how interesting it would be to find out all about the new girl.

Before we broke up into pairs, the whole cla.s.s worked on a list of questions we might ask each other. We copied the questions into our notebooks as Ms. Elison wrote them on the board. Finally, April and I pushed our desks together and we were ready to interview one another.

"You ask me questions first," suggested April.

"Okay," I agreed. I opened my notebook and began.

April was fun to interview and I liked everything I learned about her. Her hobbies were biking, swimming, drawing cartoons, and reading. She wanted to be a comedian and an -actor when she grew up. And she thought Stoneybrook was a fun town. She had an older sister and a younger sister and got- along fine with both of them. The most fun she ever had was swimming with the dolphins in Florida. The nicest thing that ever happened to her was getting a puppy on her sixth birthday, a golden retriever named Alex. The saddest thing that ever happened to her was that her grandmother had died during the - past summer.

"Now I'll interview you," said April. She reached into her desk and took out a silver gla.s.ses case. She opened the case -and put on a pair of red-rimmed gla.s.ses. April's fun-filled, smiling face brightened up even more with the sparkle of the red frames.

"I like your gla.s.ses," I said.

"I just got them," she told me. "I'm always forgetting to put them on." She looked around the room and joked, "Ah, everything is clear now." She smiled at me. "You're even prettier than I thought." She laughed. "And you blush."

"I'm shy," I explained. "I hope I introduce you to the cla.s.s okay."

"Don't worry," she said. "You can go first so you can get it over with. Anything you forget, I'll say. No problem."

And it wasn't a problem. I wanted to tell everyone all about April. And I wasn't half as nervous as I usually am talking in front of a cla.s.s. Instead of looking at me, the cla.s.s was watching April do gestures for everything I said about her. For example, when I said she had two sisters, she held up two fingers. And when I said she liked to read she pretended she was reading a book. And when I said the part about the dolphins she imitated swimming and being a dolphin.

When I'd finished my introduction of April, she said, "Mary Anne, don't forget to say I'm outgoing and friendly." Everyone laughed. They were enjoying our introductions.

I blushed while April introduced me. But I liked when she said, "Mary Anne is quiet, but loads of fun to be with. In her own way, she's outgoing and friendly, too."

"Very nice, girls," Ms. Elison said. "You both did that splendidly."

During math cla.s.s it started to rain, so we had recess in our room. I asked April, "Can I try on your gla.s.ses?"

"Sure," she said.

I put them on. The frames felt good on my face. I loved wearing gla.s.ses. "They look great on you," said April. I took them off and put them carefully back in the case. A whole bunch of girls came over to April's desk. They all wanted to talk to her.

"I have to sharpen my pencil," I told April. "I'll be right back." I made sure to take the gla.s.ses with me to the pencil sharpener, which was right next to a window. I checked to see that none of the kids was looking at me. No one was. I put the gla.s.ses on again and took a quick peek at my reflection in the window. But the image was blurred because of April's prescription, so I couldn't see just how great I looked in gla.s.ses.

April wore her gla.s.ses for English cla.s.s. Every time I looked at her, which was often, I admired how neat she looked. I noticed that Ms. Elison wore gla.s.ses too. Hers were rimmed in a dull silver and looked perfect with her black hair. Ms. Elison only used her gla.s.ses for reading, so she was always putting them- on and taking them off. I loved how she dangled them from her hand when she spoke to us, then put them on her face to read a poem. I wished I wore gla.s.ses. - That afternoon on the way home I compared notes with Kristy and Claudia about the first day of school. I didn't tell them about April.

Kristy was my very best friend and I didn't want her to be jealous.

"Are you coming over to my house?" asked Kristy when we were nearly home.

"In a little while," I said. "First I've got to do something."

"What?" asked Kristy.

"I have to tell Patricia I'm home."

Patricia Pennybrook, my current baby-sitter, was a huge improvement over some of my other sitters. She started sitting for me two weeks before school started. Patricia said sitting for me was the perfect job because I was so well behaved and didn't need a lot of attention, which meant she had lots of time to do her homework for college. She almost always let me go to Kristy's or Claudia's instead of staying at home with her.

I found Patricia sitting at the kitchen table, studying. "Want a snack?" she asked.

"No," I answered as I flew past her. "Gotta do something in my room. Then I'm going over to Kristy's."

"Okay," she agreed without looking up from her book.

I opened the bottom drawer of my bureau and went through my things until I found what I was looking for. My purple-framed sungla.s.ses. I put them on and studied my image in the mirror. I liked how I looked in the sungla.s.ses. But since I couldn't see my eyes through the dark lenses, it wasn't the same as seeing myself in real gla.s.ses.

My school photo from last year was stuck in my mirror next to Claudia's and Kristy's. I took my picture to my desk, and with a red Magic Marker drew gla.s.ses around the eyes. Wow! I looked great in gla.s.ses.

The next day, during recess, I asked April if I could borrow her gla.s.ses again. She said yes. I carefully put her gla.s.ses case in my jacket pocket. We all streamed out to the schoolyard. I stuck close to April. So did a lot of other girls. It was already clear that April would be the most popular girl in our cla.s.s. One of the neat things about April was that she was nice to everyone, not just a few of the more popular girls.

A group of us, including Kristy and Claudia, were standing around deciding what game to play, when I put on April's gla.s.ses. One girl said, "I didn't know you wore gla.s.ses, Mary Anne."

"I don't," I said. "These are April's."

"They look great on you," said Claudia. "Can I try them on?"

We spent the rest of recess trying on April's gla.s.ses. On the way back to our cla.s.sroom I made sure to walk next to April. "I wish I wore gla.s.ses," I told her.

"They can be a pain sometimes," she said. "I'm always forgetting where I put them."

"But they look really neat on you."

April flashed her great smile at me. "Thanks," she said.

That weekend my father and I went on a shopping trip to the discount pharmacy. While my dad was picking out the things we needed, I discovered a rack of reading g1a.s.ses. I tried on a pair. I thought they looked pretty good, but it was hard to tell.

"Can I help you?" asked a clerk.

"No, thank you," I replied. "I'm just looking."

"Just looking?" he said. He laughed. "Well, let me know if I can help you, young lady. By the way, that pair looks nice on you."

"Thanks," I said.

I took off the gla.s.ses and looked at my now clear reflection in the display's oval mirror. I wasn't blushing. I checked my hands. They weren't clammy. I'd had that entire conversation with the clerk without having a shy attack. I thought, wearing gla.s.ses could change my life.

Monday morning Ms. Elison announced, "This week our school is conducting vision screening tests for all students. You will be tested on Wednesday morning."

A vision test! I couldn't believe my good luck. Maybe they'd discover I needed gla.s.ses. The test was on Wednesday. By Friday I might have my own pair of gla.s.ses. But what if I pa.s.sed the test? What if I didn't need them? Suddenly I had an idea of how to make sure that I would soon be wearing gla.s.ses.

If I wanted eyegla.s.ses - which I did - I would have to fail the vision test on purpose. But to fail I needed to know in advance what the test was like.

When our cla.s.s was on the way to phys ed on Tuesday, I noticed a few third-graders- lined up outside the nurse's office. I figured they were waiting for their vision test.

During lunch hour the third-graders were out in the schoolyard with us. Jennifer Searles, a girl I knew from our block, was off by herself jumping rope. I went over to her.

"Did you do that vision test thing yet?" I asked.

"Yeah," she answered. "I read every line perfectly."

"What's the test like?" I asked.

"You have to read these letters. They don't spell anything. They get smaller and smaller until they're real teeny. But I could see those, too."

"Is it one of those charts with the big E on top?" I asked.

"Yeah," Jennifer said.

I'd taken that vision test at my pediatrician's office. It was easy and I'd pa.s.sed it without any trouble. So I probably would pa.s.s this test, too. Now that I knew what the test was like, I needed a plan to fail it.

After school I told Kristy and Claudia that I had to do some homework before I could play outside. I didn't tell them that my "homework" was to figure out how to fail a test.

I sat at my desk. First, I decided that I should read the first few lines of the vision test correctly. Otherwise the tester might guess I was trying to fail it. Then on the third or fourth line I'd start making mistakes.

Now, how should I make the mistakes? It would look fishy if my mistakes were huge errors like saying a T was an 0. I printed out the letters of the alphabet in a row. Then I squinted my eyes until the letters weren't clear. I saw that with poor vision an M could look like an N, and that an E could be mistaken for an F. I squinted my way through the whole alphabet deciding what to say for the different letters.

By the time I went over to Claudia's to play, I was confident that I could fail the vision test with flying colors. I couldn't wait for tomorrow to come.

The next morning, right after announcements, Ms. Elison told us that we were taking our vision test first thing. She explained that only three of us would be out of the room at a time - two waiting outside the nurse's office and one taking the test. "As soon as one of you comes back from the test the next person will leave," she said. "The first three in the first row may leave now. The rest of you will start the math exercise that is written on the front board."

I was the third person in the first row, so I followed Jack Luke and Maria Gonzalez out of the room.

Maria and I waited outside the nurse's office while Jack took the test. When he came out, I asked him if it was one of the charts with the E at the top. "Uh-huh," he said. "It's easy."

A few minutes later Maria had finished the test. "Your turn," she said to me. "I think I pa.s.sed. It was easy." I thought, I hope it's easy to fail, too.

Our school nurse, Mrs. Randolph, was testing us. She told me to sit in the chair in the middle of the room facing the eye chart. She pointed to the E at the top of the chart and asked, "Which way does the open side of the E face - toward the door or toward the bookshelves?"

"Toward the door," I answered. "Good. Now read the letters on the next line."

"K, Q, M, E1 R, T, Y," I said confidently. "Very good, Mary Anne," Mrs. Randolph said. She tapped the chart with a wooden pointer. "Now, the next line."

I quickly looked down the chart and counted that there were four more lines. I decided to get all the letters on this line right, but that I would take longer to read them.

"R. . . T, M, W. . . no that's a U. . . L, K, X, C," I said.

"Didn't your teacher tell you that you should wear your gla.s.ses for the test?" Mrs. Randolph asked.

"But I don't wear gla.s.ses, Mrs. Randolph," I told her.

"Oh," she said. She looked puzzled and concerned. "Well, let's do the next line. Take your time."

I took a deep breath. Even though I could read the line clearly, I said the M was N and that the 0 was a Q. I read the next letter correctly, but followed it by two more mistakes.

"All right, Mary Anne," Mrs. Randolph said. "You've finished the test." She was frowning and writing something on my chart.

"Don't you want me to read the next line?" I asked. I already knew that the first letter was E, which meant I would say it was a B.

"No, that's fine, dear." She gave me a sympathetic smile.

I knew I had failed the test beautifully. Soon I would have my own gla.s.ses. I couldn't wait.

I wondered if the school would let me pick out my own frames. If they did I couldn't decide if I wanted red frames or horn rimmed ones like the pair I noticed Claudia's mother wore. Or maybe I wanted silver ones like Ms. Elison.

At the end of the school day, Ms. Elison called Jeanette Thompson and me to her desk. I wondered if I'd be wearing my new gla.s.ses home.

"Girls," said Ms. Elison, "the vision test you took this morning indicates that you have vision problems. Did you notice that you had difficulty reading the eye chart?"

I smiled and nodded.

"Uh-huh," said Jeannette. She didn't look very happy about it.

"Can we pick out the frames for our gla.s.ses?" I asked Ms. Elison.,, "That's really up to your parents," she said. "First you need to see your family eye doctor for further testing. Bring these notes to your parents." She handed each of us a note.

Further testing? Family eye doctor? I thought the school would give me gla.s.ses. But instead I had to go to a special eye doctor. What kind of test would the eye doctor give me? Would that doctor figure out that I had failed the school vision test on purpose? Would the eye doctor tell my father? I was confused and worried. It was a lot harder to get a pair of gla.s.ses than I thought it would be.

That night I gave my father the note from school. He seemed worried and a little upset by it. He asked me if I had trouble reading the board in school. I couldn't lie to my father. "I can read the board okay," I told him. Then he asked me to read different-sized print in the newspaper. I could read them all.

"It doesn't seem to me as if you have a serious vision problem," he told me. "But we better have it checked out as soon as possible."

The next evening my father told me I had an appointment with a Dr. Crews on Sat.u.r.day morning. There was one more day of school before Sat.u.r.day. I'd ask April what it was like to go to an eye doctor.

April explained that I'd have to read an eye chart; She also described a machine that was like gla.s.ses and how the doctor would keep changing lenses and asking her to tell him when rows of letters were clear and when they were fuzzy.

"The test takes a long time," April said. "But it doesn't hurt or anything."

I realized there was no way I could prepare to fail this test. I would have to figure it out as I went along. Maybe I'd say the fuzzy images were clear and the clear ones were fuzzy. But I wasn't sure that would work. Since Dr. Crews was an expert on vision, I figured he'd know if- someone was making a mistake on purpose.

On the way home from school, Claudia and Kristy were all excited that it was the weekend. "My mom said she'd take us to Brenner Field to play tomorrow morning," said Kristy. "Let's invite April."

"I have to go the doctor's tomorrow," I told them.

"How come?" asked Claudia. "Are you sick?"

"I have to go to an eye doctor," I explained. "I might need gla.s.ses."