v Read this excerpt from a story.

Read this excerpt from a story.

Cameron checked his watch, noting that an hour had already passed since he arrived at home. He had progressed to the expert level of his video game, and he was within a few moves of earning bonus cash for the game’s virtual store.

“Cam, are you ready to get started on your project? It’s due tomorrow. I found some stencils you can use,” Cameron’s mom called.

“Yeah, in a little bit,” Cam replied, as he earned the bonus cash and saved his game to play later. He reclined on the couch and closed his eyes, recalling the game and ignoring the nagging feeling that he had something to do. He checked his watch again, then picked up a comic book and began to read.

Read this excerpt from “Eleven“.

In my head I’m thinking how long till lunchtime, how long till I can take the red sweater and throw it over the school yard fence, or even leave it hanging on a parking meter, or bunch it up into a little ball and toss it in the alley. Except when math period ends Mrs. Price says loud and in front of everybody, “Now Rachel, that’s enough . . .”

Read this excerpt from a story.

Someone had written a petition. It was very official. It stated, “We the people of Harmon Middle School object to the lack of straws in the cafeteria. We demand that the cafeteria provide straws, as it has in the past.” Tons of kids had signed below the declaration. I stared at their looping signatures and could not summon an interest in straws. “Sorry, but I’m gonna pass on this one,” I told my friends.

“What? Jeremy, you know you want straws back.”

I didn’t. Not really. I never used straws, and the kids who did use them always managed to turn them into spitball launchers. It was kind of gross.

Read this excerpt from “Eleven“.

Maybe because I’m skinny, maybe because she doesn’t like me, that stupid Sylvia Saldivar says, “I think it belongs to Rachel.” An ugly sweater like that, all raggedy and old, but Mrs. Price believes her.