don’t have to fix in order to become respectable.”
“You have a very pretty voice,” Brenda said.
“Oh, I was probably just mumbling or humming. That’s what I do when I don’t know I’m doing it. I’m still hearing what’s going on around me when I do that, but when I sing for real, I really belt it out. Jennifer Jackson—she’s not here, even though she should be because she has the affliction of being noodley—told me once that when I sing, she can feel it shake right down in her tummy, and that I give her goose bumps. It’s a very good sign if you give somebody goose pimples when you sing, you know.”
Brenda smiled again, which made me wonder if she wasn’t making fun of me in her head, like I did sometimes when kids said something so dumb that I thought it was funny, but I didn’t want to laugh out loud and make them feel bad. “I’ve no doubt that you do,” Brenda said. “And by the way, I like those same things.”
Brenda twirled the tail of a pink scarf she had tied around her ponytail as she scanned the rest of the page. “And the last question. What do you hope to get out of this program?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about that,” I told her.
“Good,” Brenda said.
“I hope to learn how to behave so I don’t have to be a flunky, and so that Teddy doesn’t throw my butt on the Greyhound bus. Is
butt
a swear word, do you know? I hope not, because I gave up swearing. Anyway, I hope you can teach me how to be better and do better so I can become more respectable. Past that, all I’m looking for is money.”
“Money?” Brenda said, her eyes going Bette-Davis-big.
“Yeah. But not a handout, because Teddy says there’s no pride in handouts. I’m not looking for a loan, either, because, well, you could say that’s what got me in trouble in the first place.
“I can’t explain why I need the money, but trust me, if you really want to help me be a better person, what you can give me is a job. I don’t care what. I’d work real cheap, as long as I can make thirty-five cents. That’s what I really need most right now. Well, that, and probably a lesson or two on keeping my yap shut when I should.”
“Isabella—” she said, and I stopped her.
“Look, if we’re supposed to be like real Sunshine Sisters—whatever that’s supposed to mean, but I’m guessing all
sunny
with each other—then you’re going to have to call me Teaspoon.”
“Okay, Teaspoon. But this isn’t a work program. It’s a mentorship program.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s a pretty fancy word. I like learning new fancy words. You never know when you’re going to have to read one of them out loud, or when you can use one to score big in Scrabble. In school this year, Mrs. Carlton let us choose from the regular spelling lists in our book, or the Spelling Challenge lists she made up herself. Those are the hard ones, and that’s the lists I chose. I learned
affliction
, and
contradiction
not long ago, but
mentorship
? Hmm. Don’t think we’ve had that one yet.”
“Well,” Brenda said. “A mentor is someone who guides you by giving you advice. Someone usually older and more experienced than you.
Mentorship
is a word to describe the relationship itself.”
“Wow, you’re smart. But I suppose you’d have to be or you wouldn’t be the Sweetheart of Mill Town.” Brenda looked down and cleared her throat a little, even though it was hard to believe that a girl like her ever got gunk in her throat.
“Meeting location…,” she read. “Would you like to meet at the Starlight?”
“You’re kidding me, right? That’s my favorite place in the whole world! Of course I’d like to meet there.”
“Good. We’ll have our first meeting the Monday after school lets out. May twenty-third.”
“
After
school lets out?” I almost yelled. “You mean I have to wait until school lets out?”
“Yes, that’s when the program officially begins. Most of us girlshave too much going on until
“You have a very pretty voice,” Brenda said.
“Oh, I was probably just mumbling or humming. That’s what I do when I don’t know I’m doing it. I’m still hearing what’s going on around me when I do that, but when I sing for real, I really belt it out. Jennifer Jackson—she’s not here, even though she should be because she has the affliction of being noodley—told me once that when I sing, she can feel it shake right down in her tummy, and that I give her goose bumps. It’s a very good sign if you give somebody goose pimples when you sing, you know.”
Brenda smiled again, which made me wonder if she wasn’t making fun of me in her head, like I did sometimes when kids said something so dumb that I thought it was funny, but I didn’t want to laugh out loud and make them feel bad. “I’ve no doubt that you do,” Brenda said. “And by the way, I like those same things.”
Brenda twirled the tail of a pink scarf she had tied around her ponytail as she scanned the rest of the page. “And the last question. What do you hope to get out of this program?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about that,” I told her.
“Good,” Brenda said.
“I hope to learn how to behave so I don’t have to be a flunky, and so that Teddy doesn’t throw my butt on the Greyhound bus. Is
butt
a swear word, do you know? I hope not, because I gave up swearing. Anyway, I hope you can teach me how to be better and do better so I can become more respectable. Past that, all I’m looking for is money.”
“Money?” Brenda said, her eyes going Bette-Davis-big.
“Yeah. But not a handout, because Teddy says there’s no pride in handouts. I’m not looking for a loan, either, because, well, you could say that’s what got me in trouble in the first place.
“I can’t explain why I need the money, but trust me, if you really want to help me be a better person, what you can give me is a job. I don’t care what. I’d work real cheap, as long as I can make thirty-five cents. That’s what I really need most right now. Well, that, and probably a lesson or two on keeping my yap shut when I should.”
“Isabella—” she said, and I stopped her.
“Look, if we’re supposed to be like real Sunshine Sisters—whatever that’s supposed to mean, but I’m guessing all
sunny
with each other—then you’re going to have to call me Teaspoon.”
“Okay, Teaspoon. But this isn’t a work program. It’s a mentorship program.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s a pretty fancy word. I like learning new fancy words. You never know when you’re going to have to read one of them out loud, or when you can use one to score big in Scrabble. In school this year, Mrs. Carlton let us choose from the regular spelling lists in our book, or the Spelling Challenge lists she made up herself. Those are the hard ones, and that’s the lists I chose. I learned
affliction
, and
contradiction
not long ago, but
mentorship
? Hmm. Don’t think we’ve had that one yet.”
“Well,” Brenda said. “A mentor is someone who guides you by giving you advice. Someone usually older and more experienced than you.
Mentorship
is a word to describe the relationship itself.”
“Wow, you’re smart. But I suppose you’d have to be or you wouldn’t be the Sweetheart of Mill Town.” Brenda looked down and cleared her throat a little, even though it was hard to believe that a girl like her ever got gunk in her throat.
“Meeting location…,” she read. “Would you like to meet at the Starlight?”
“You’re kidding me, right? That’s my favorite place in the whole world! Of course I’d like to meet there.”
“Good. We’ll have our first meeting the Monday after school lets out. May twenty-third.”
“
After
school lets out?” I almost yelled. “You mean I have to wait until school lets out?”
“Yes, that’s when the program officially begins. Most of us girlshave too much going on until
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