The More the Merrier Read online

  Cinderella Smith

  The More the Merrier

  by

  Stephanie Barden

  Illustrations by

  Diane Goode

  Dedication

  To my mom and dad,

  for the love of books and stories

  Thanks to my very own fairy godmothers:

  Marietta Zacher, Barbara Lalicki, and Diane Goode

  —S.B.

  For Peter

  —D.G.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1 - A Turquoise Converse Sneaker

  Chapter 2 - Vexylent

  Chapter 3 - A Flying Green Sneaker

  Chapter 4 - Purple Potion

  Chapter 5 - Mix-matched Skechers

  Chapter 6 - Great with a Capital G

  Chapter 7 - Orange Crocs

  Chapter 8 - A Long Story

  Chapter 9 - A Clog with Puppy Teeth Marks

  Chapter 10 - Phew!

  Chapter 11 - Golden Strappy Sandals

  Chapter 12 - The What’s What

  Chapter 13 - A Left-Behind Mary Jane

  Chapter 14 - More of Everything

  About the Author

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Chapter 1

  A Turquoise Converse Sneaker

  “It’s time to leave for school!” I yelled to my mom and my little sister, Tess. And I knew this not because of the clock or because a show ended on TV. I knew it because I could hear the bounce-bounce-bounce of my next-door neighbor Charlie’s basketball coming up our walkway.

  “Hi, Tarlie!” Tess raced out the door first. She had a big, huge crush on Charlie and just couldn’t wait to see him every morning.

  “Hi, Tess!” said Charlie. “Hi, Tinder!”

  I did a big sigh on account of the name he called me. When we were little, we couldn’t say each other’s names just right, so we called each other Tinder and Tarles. Now we can say the s and the ch sounds just fine, but Charlie keeps calling me Tinder to bug me.

  Tess grabbed hold of my hand, and we followed Charlie, who was jogging and dribbling his basketball down the block. Every day we walk to school together, along with a kindergartner named Louie, who lives at the end of our block. Most times our moms come too because they’re all friends. My mom brings Tess, and Louie’s mom brings his little sister, Maggie. Charlie’s mom just brings Charlie, though, because his big brother goes to another school on a bus.

  “We’re picking up Rosemary T.!” my mom called.

  Charlie stopped where he was and waited for us to catch up.

  Rosemary T. is another kid who lives on Blackberry Lane and goes to our school. She almost never walks, though. Her mom drives her big sisters to their school first, then drops Rosemary T. off at the end. Also, Rosemary T. does not like fresh air and exercise too much.

  Since Rosemary T. didn’t know that the dribbling sound was the signal to come outside, Tess and I went up to the front door and knocked.

  “Is it raining?” Rosemary T. didn’t look too happy.

  “Nope,” I said.

  “I can’t believe my mother is making me walk.”

  “My mom said she was sick,” I said.

  “Well then, I can’t believe my father is making me walk.”

  She said father very loud because right then he was heading out the door with Rosemary T.’s sisters.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” said Mr. Taylor. “I don’t have time to get all of us where we need to be this morning.”

  Rosemary T. made a big harrumph noise.

  “Don’t be such a baby,” said her oldest sister.

  Her middle sister rolled her eyes. “You only have to walk a few blocks.”

  Rosemary T. rolled her eyes right back. “Whatever.”

  Mr. Taylor waved hello to everyone, and he and Rosemary T.’s sisters all got in their car.

  Louie and his mom and Maggie crossed the street to join us, and we started off again to school. Maggie grabbed my hand and Rosemary T.’s hand and Louie grabbed Tess’s hand, and we walked in a big, long chain down the block.

  “Skipping!” yelled Tess, so we started skipping.

  “Singing!” yelled Maggie.

  Right then the Taylors’ car drove by and honked. Rosemary T. let go of Maggie’s hand superquick, and our chain wobbled a little bit but then straightened out.

  “Grab back on, Rosemary T.!” I yelled. “Don’t get left in the dust!”

  “Head, shoulders, knees, and toes,” Louie sang.

  “Head, shoulders, knees, and toes,” Maggie and Tess and I joined in.

  “Eyes and ears and mouth and nose,” Charlie yelled, bouncing his ball all around us.

  “Head, shoulders, knees, and toes,” we sang all the way to school, except for Rosemary T.

  When we got to the playground, she raced off to find her best friend, Rosemary W. I said good-bye to Tess and my mom and went to get in my class line because the start-of-school bell rang.

  My best friend, Erin, was already in line behind the Rosemarys, so I went to stand by her.

  “I had to walk to school today with Cinderella,” Rosemary T. said to Rosemary W. The way she said it made it sound terrible.

  “I’m right behind you, Rosemary T.,” I said.

  She turned around. “I can’t believe you were skipping and singing and holding hands on the way to school.”

  “I can’t believe you let go,” I said.

  “I would never want to look as babyish as you,” she said.

  “I would have skipped and sung and held hands,” said Erin.

  “I know you would,” I said, “because the more the merrier!”

  “I was so embarrassed,” Rosemary T. told Rosemary W. “I walked way back with her mom and pretended I didn’t know her.”

  “I would have done the same thing,” said Rosemary W.

  “You missed out,” I said. “It was funderful!” I was very into making up new words lately, and this one was a combination of fun and wonderful all together.

  “I hate all those dumb words you keep making up,” said Rosemary T.

  “It’s very immature,” said Rosemary W.

  “It is not,” said Erin.

  “It is so,” said Rosemary W.

  “It’s just another one of the childish things that Cinderella is always doing lately,” said Rosemary T., “like hanging out with little kids and losing shoes.”

  My feelings started hurting like the dickens, and I felt tears filling up my eyes. Luckily our line started moving and the Rosemarys went ahead, so they didn’t see.

  “Didn’t your moms ever teach you,” Erin called after them, “that if you can’t say something nice, you shouldn’t say anything at all?”

  I blink, blink, blinked at the tears walking to class and was good to go by the time we got there.

  “Find your seats, class.” Our teacher, Mr. Harrison, waited for us to get all settled. “As you know, our all-school spelling bee is a week from today. Now that you’re in the third grade, the three best spellers among you will get to participate.”

  There were some hoorays from the good spellers and some groans from the not-so-good spellers. I myself didn’t say anything because I’m somewhere in the middle.

  “On Monday we’ll have our in-class spelling bee to determine who those three are,” said Mr. Harrison. “To encourage you to study hard, whoever does the best in the all-school spelling bee will get to plan a class party.”

  Everyone hoorayed to that, because everyone loves a class party.

  Zachary, a very, extremely quiet boy who sits at the back of the classroom, raised his hand.

 
; “Yes, Zachary?” said Mr. Harrison.

  I strained my ears to hear. Zachary doesn’t say much, so when he does, I’m always very interested.

  “What kind of a party?” he asked.

  “What kind?” Mr. Harrison asked back.

  “You know,” said Zachary, “like a birthday party or a holiday party or a last-day-of-school party.”

  “It can be whatever kind of party the winner wants,” said Mr. Harrison. “What are some things you’re interested in? What would make a good party theme?”

  “I don’t know,” said Zachary, very quiet again.

  “I’m interested in dinosaurs,” said Logan, “so I’d have a paleontology party.”

  Mr. Harrison wrote Paleontology on the blackboard.

  “I’m interested in insects,” said Trevor, “so I’d have some kind of bug theme.”

  “I’d do a Let Pluto Stay a Planet party,” said Christopher.

  Mr. Harrison wrote Bugs and Planet Pluto on the board. “How about you, Cinderella?” he said.

  I happened to share a table with Logan, Trevor, and Christopher, who happened to be the three smartest boys in the class. I guess Mr. Harrison wanted to finish up with our table, because I didn’t have my hand up.

  “I don’t have the foggiest idea,” I said.

  Mr. Harrison looked like he could not believe his ears. “But you always have an idea.”

  “I know,” I said. “Maybe it’s more like I have too many foggy ideas and they’re all running around inside my head and I can’t decide on just one.”

  Mr. Harrison smiled and wrote I Can’t Decide Yet. He added a check mark after it. “That check is for you, Zachary, since you can’t decide yet either.”

  Zachary nodded.

  Kristy raised her hand, and I knew for sure what her idea was going to be.

  “Horses,” she said.

  I smiled across the room at Erin, and she smiled right back. Erin sat next to Kristy at a table with girls who were just crazy about horses. I could tell that Erin had known for sure what Kristy’s idea was going to be like I did.

  “Horses for me too,” said Olivia, Kristy’s best friend.

  Mr. Harrison wrote Horses on the board and put a check mark next to it.

  “I think it should be basketball,” said Charlie.

  “Or maybe soccer,” said Jack. He sits next to Charlie at a table full of boys who are loud and love sports.

  Kids started calling out party ideas, and Mr. Harrison wrote them all down.

  “Ahem!” said Rosemary T. very loudly to get everyone’s attention. “Our whole table agrees that it should be an I Believe in Unicorns party.”

  I looked over at her table. Rosemary W. and Hannah were nodding their heads. Abby, who also sat with them, didn’t look so sure. Still she didn’t say anything out loud.

  Mr. Harrison added I Believe in Unicorns to the long list of party ideas on the blackboard. He put three check marks next to it.

  There was a knock on our classroom door, and the other third-grade teacher, Mrs. Kirk, poked her head in.

  “Excuse me a moment, class.” Mr. Harrison walked over to see what she needed.

  “But I don’t believe in unicorns,” said Kristy. “They aren’t real horses.”

  Rosemary T. spun around in her chair and stared hard at Kristy. “Then you will definitely never be invited to join the I Believe in Unicorns Club.”

  Rosemary T. and Rosemary W. were very into starting clubs lately. To give you a few examples, there was the American Girls Club if you liked those books and the Sisters Club if you had at least one sister and the Grape Club if you thought that was the best flavor. There was also the Pierced Ears Club that I wasn’t in because I don’t have pierced ears yet. And the Dance Class Club that Erin wasn’t in because she hasn’t started dance class yet.

  Rosemary T. kept up that mean stare at Kristy. “Also, when I win the spelling bee and I plan my I Believe in Unicorns party, you can just sit out in the hall.”

  “You won’t get any unicorn cupcakes either,” added Rosemary W.

  Kristy blinked very fast at the tears in her eyes, but she started to cry anyway. Her whole table patted her on the back and told her it was okay, but that just made her cry harder. And right then and there I started to see red, which means I got mad with a capital M.

  “Rosemary T.!” I stood up. “You owe Kristy an apology!”

  The whole Rosemarys’ table looked over at me very surprised.

  “For one,” I said, “you have to win the spelling bee before you can plan the party. For two, it’s a class party, and everyone is included.”

  “Harrumph!” Rosemary T. said very loud.

  “Harrumph!” Rosemary W. and Hannah said too.

  “That must be the sound that a herd of magical unicorns makes,” said Charlie.

  Everyone started laughing, especially Kristy.

  Mr. Harrison finished up talking to Mrs. Kirk and shut the door. “Cinderella, are you leaving us?”

  I forgot I was standing up. “No, I’m staying.” I sat back down.

  “She couldn’t go anywhere anyway,” said Rosemary T. “She’s not wearing one of her shoes.”

  I looked down, and only one of my turquoise Converse sneakers was on my feet. I wasn’t too surprised, though. I have a habit of taking off my shoes when I’m sitting at my desk. This is A-OK with Mr. Harrison too as long as I put them on again before I go anywhere.

  I was about to slip my shoe back on, but Rosemary T. was whispering to Rosemary W. and pointing at my feet. Instead, I pointed my toes like we do in dance class and waved right back at them with my sock feet underneath the table.

  Chapter 2

  Vexylent

  “Did you bring tuna fish again?” Rosemary T. asked when we got to the lunchroom.

  “Yep.” I put an empty seat between us so she wouldn’t have to be too close to my sandwich. “It’s my new favorite.”

  “It smells so gross,” she said.

  “You told me that yesterday,” I said. “Just breathe through your mouth and you won’t have to smell it.”

  “I have peanut butter and jelly.” Rosemary W. sat in the empty seat between us.

  “I have yogurt.” Hannah sat across from Rosemary T.

  “Me too,” said Rosemary T.

  “I’ll bring yogurt tomorrow,” said Rosemary W.

  Erin and Abby plunked their lunch trays down across from me. I never bought lunch, so I was always very interested to see what they were serving. Today it was grilled cheese sandwiches and carrots and orange slices.

  “Hey, school lunch is all orange today,” I said.

  “Yeah,” said Abby, “and it’s all good too, no green beans.”

  “Or peas,” said Erin. “Cinderella, I’ll trade you half of my sandwich for half of yours.”

  “Deal.” I handed her the half I hadn’t bitten into.

  “Now you’ll be just as smelly as Cinderella,” said Rosemary T.

  “Cinderella isn’t smelly,” said Erin.

  “After she eats tuna fish she is,” said Rosemary W.

  Erin looked at me and rolled her eyes and held up her tuna half.

  I held up mine too, and we touched them together, just like when people toast with glasses.

  “Cheers!” we said, and took a bite.

  “What are you doing?” asked Hannah.

  “We’re cheers-ing,” I said. “We always do that when we’re eating the same stuff.”

  “It’s just another stupid, childish, Cinderella thing,” said Rosemary T.

  My eyes started watering up again, and I blink, blink, blink, blinked. “You are so not-nice lately, Rosemary T.”

  Nobody said anything to that, and our part of the table got very quiet. Everyone kept eating, except me. I couldn’t swallow on account of the lump of sad in my throat.

  Rosemary T. finished her lunch and stood up. “Let’s go.”

  Rosemary W. and Hannah stood up too and followed Rosemary T. over to the ga
rbage can. Abby took one last bite, shrugged her shoulders, and followed them out of the lunchroom.

  “I am getting very, extremely tired of Rosemary T. and all her meanness lately,” I said.

  “Lately?” said Erin. “She’s been this way ever since I’ve known her.” Erin was the new kid this year, so she had only known Rosemary T. for a little while.

  “I guess she has been pretty mean all year, but she didn’t used to be.”

  “She didn’t?” asked Erin.

  “Nope,” I said. “We’ve lived by each other ever since we were born, and we were always pretty good friends.”

  “Wow,” said Erin.

  “But right about now I am very sad and mad at her,” I said. “I would also really like to call her some bad names, if I was allowed.”

  “You mean like dumb and rude and awful and stupid?” asked Erin.

  I nodded.

  “I’m not allowed to say things like that either,” she said.

  “I guess our mothers did teach us that thing you said before.”

  “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all?”

  “Yep,” I said. “And I can’t think of one nice thing I’d like to say to Rosemary T. right now.”

  “Me neither,” said Erin. “We might just have to stop talking to her.”

  I thought about that for a minute. “I think you’re right. I think we’re going to have to give her the silent treatment.”

  “Deal,” said Erin.

  “Deal,” I said right back.

  We headed out to recess and did not go play four-square with the Rosemarys. Instead we went and sat on our favorite bench by the basketball courts.

  “Do you want to come over and study spelling this weekend?” asked Erin. “My stepdad got me a big book all full of spelling words.”

  “That would be awesome,” I said.

  “Wouldn’t it be great if we both won and got to plan the class party together?”