"Martin, Ann M - Bsc Special Edition Shannon's Story" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin Ann M)

"Right. Well, I've got to go. See you guys later."
"Okay," I said for the third time. "Goodbye."
But my father had already hung up the phone. I put the receiver down slowly and walked back to the kitchen.
My mother was stirring something on the stove, staring off into space.
"Mom?"
She looked around. "Oh. Shannon. Phone for me?"
"It was Dad," I said.
"He won't be home for dinner, right?" asked my mom.
"Good guess," I said.
She smiled, a little smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I suppose it's some trial, as usual."
My father's a lawyer with a big firm. He works a lot. And lately, he had missed a lot of family dinners. Even more than usual. Some case he'd been working on for a long time was just coming up for trial, a big case that had even been written up in the newspaper.
He barely had time for his Rotary club meetings and board meetings and jogging and lunches and dinners with clients.
Or for dinner at home. Sometimes, he wasn't even home by the time I went to sleep.
I remembered the Fourth of July barbecue again and felt a sudden surge of disappointment. I'd wanted my father to be home for dinner. I'd wanted to sit around the table with my family and talk to them. I'd wanted to listen to my mother and father tell jokes and stories and ask Tiffany how her garden was growing and Maria if going to swim practice every day was turning her hair green.
But I guessed it wasn't going to happen that night.
"I'll go walk Astrid," I said.
My mother didn't mention the jacket again. She just said, "Don't stay out too long. Maria will be home from swim practice soon and it'll be time for dinner."
"I'll set the table as soon as I get back," I offered.
"Fine," said my mother, turning back to the stove.
I called Astrid in from the backyard, waving the leash. Astrid came racing to me with an undignified, doggy grin, wriggling with delight at the prospect of a walk.
"I'm taking Astrid for a walk," I called to Tiffany. "Want to come?"
But Tiffany, who'd turned when I'd called, was already turning baick as she shook her head no. As we left the house, I looked over the fence. Tiffany was still in her garden at the foot of the yard. I could see my mother at the kitchen window on the side of the house, moving slowly back and forth, her head down. My father was still at work. Maria was still at swim practice.
It made me feel weird. Like my family was a bunch of those magnetized marbles that roll around all over the place and sometimes come together and stick and sometimes repel each other like they don't belong together at all. It was as if we were all in the "marble-repel" mode. We might look alike, we might look as if we belong to the same family.
But right now, we didn't feel like it. I felt weird. And sort of sad, somehow.
Chapter 2.
"Big day today at school?" asked my mother.
I gulped down my orange juice and said, "Well, uh . . ."
Tiffany didn't say anything. Dad didn't say anything either because he had already left for his office.
Maria said, "We've got a killer practice this afternoon."
"You have swim practice this afternoon, too?"
Maria looked at Mom in surprise. "Of course," she said.
"The bus is here," I said and we made a break for the door.
"Shannon?"
"Uh, yeah, Mom?"
"You'll be home this afternoon, of course."
"French Club meeting, then Baby-sitters Club," I said. " 'Bye. . . ."
I hurried out of the house before Mom could ask me any more questions. She knew I had BSC meetings every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Why didn't she ever listen? Plus I hated when the bus driver sat there with the door open, waiting, while everybody watched from the windows as I ran toward the bus. Maria might like sports, but beyond soccer at school, which I happen to like a lot, I'm not into running or moving fast. I like to do things at my own speed, my own way. It is one of the things that makes me a good student — that and the fact that I like school.
It's true. In spite of having to wear uniforms (we all do at Stoneybrook Day School, from kindergarten right on up) and having major amounts of homework and a lot more rules than, say, Stoneybrook Academy, or Stoneybrook Middle School, I like learning things. And I like having teachers who know the things I want to learn.
In spite of how conservative it is, SDS is pretty good about letting you take interesting courses. For instance, this year, I was taking advanced French, accelerated math, and philosophy, I was playing soccer for my gym credit, and I was taking an astronomy unit as part of my science requirement — an astronomy unit that I had set up with four other
kids. Sometimes, if you are interested in a subject, SDS will even let you set up a unit for credit, a unit you study with just the teacher, like an independent study in college. But then, at SDS, you're expected to go to college.
SDS even looks a little bit like a college campus. It's made up of four redbrick buildings set around a grass courtyard and connected to each other and to the administration office in the front by covered walkways. The offices are in an old house (the land for the school was donated by the woman who used to live in the house), and the gym and the track and playing fields are in the back. Of course, the fact that all of the students are wearing uniforms lets you know right away that we aren't really on a college campus, even if seeing all the little kids in kindergarten didn't give it away.
Another decent thing about SDS is that I'm not the only one who likes school. Most of my friends there do, too. We all have favorite subjects and it's cool to talk about something you're studying if it really interests you. Right now, I'm the "ask the astronomy student" at my table at lunch.
But our current favorite topic is French.
Mais oui.
That means, literally, "but yes" in French. I guess a loose translation would be "of course!"
Mais oui we love French? You better believe it. Because our advanced eighth grade French class is going on a class trip to Paris for one whole week when school is out at the end of May — everyone, that is, with a B average overall and an 85 average in French.
Madame DuBarry announced the trip the first week of school this semester, and we've been practicing our French like mad ever since, so we'll be tres, tres bon. (Very, very good.)
"Good morning, Ms. Kilbourne." That was Dr. Patek. She's the headmistress of SDS. Her office is in the administration house, but she makes a point of being around the buildings when classes are starting for the day. She also makes a point of knowing all our names.
"Bonjour, Dr. Patek," I said.
Maria and Tiffany had peeled off in search of their own friends the moment we'd gotten off the bus, so Dr. Patek didn't say hello to any more Kilbournes. But if she had, she wouldn't have called them Ms. Kilbourne. They would have been Maria and Tiffany. It's not until middle school that Dr. Patek "promotes" you. 7 Cool. I mean, tres bon.