Auggie & Me by R. J. Palacio Page B

climb up the ramp to get him, too. I don’t remember all the details, but I remember there was a big commotion. A little crowd had formed around the slide. People were whispering. I remember us leaving the playground very quickly. I remember seeing tears in Isabel’s eyes as she carried Auggie home.
    That was the first time I realized how different Auggie was from the rest of us. It wasn’t the last time, though. Like breathing and swallowing, crying comes automatically to most kids, too.

7:08 a.m.
    I don’t know why I was thinking about Auggie this morning. It’s been three years since we moved away, and I haven’t even seen him since his bowling party in October. Maybe I’d had a dream about him. I don’t know. But I was thinking about him when Mom came into my room a few minutes after I turned off my alarm clock.
    â€œYou awake, sweetie?” she said softly.
    I pulled my pillow over my head as an answer.
    â€œTime to wake up, Chris,” she said cheerfully, opening the curtains of my window. Even under my pillow with my eyes closed, I could tell my room was way too bright now.
    â€œClose the curtains!” I mumbled.
    â€œLooks like it’s going to rain all day today,” she sighed, not closing the curtains. “Come on, you don’t want to be late again today. And you have to take a shower this morning.”
    â€œI took a shower, like, two days ago.”
    â€œExactly!”
    â€œUgh!” I groaned.
    â€œLet’s go, honeyboy,” she said, patting the top of my pillow.
    I pulled the pillow off my face. “Okay!” I yelled. “I’m up! Are you happy?”
    â€œYou’re such a grump in the morning,” she said, shaking her head. “What happened to my sweet fourth grader from last year?”
    â€œLisa!” I answered.
    She hated when I called her by her first name. I thought she’d leave my room then, but she started picking some clothes off my floor and putting them in my hamper.
    â€œDid something happen last night, by the way?” I said, my eyes still closed. “I heard you on the phone with Isabel when I was going to sleep last night. It sounded like something bad . . .”
    She sat down on the edge of my bed. I rubbed my eyes awake.
    â€œWhat?” I said. “Is it really bad? I think I had a dream about Auggie last night.”
    â€œNo, Auggie’s fine,” she answered, scrunching up her face a bit. She pushed some hair out of my eyes. “I was going to wait till later to—”
    â€œWhat!” I interrupted.
    â€œI’m afraid Daisy died last night, sweetie.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI’m sorry, honey.”
    â€œDaisy!” I covered my face with my hands.
    â€œI’m sorry, sweetie. I know how much you loved Daisy.”

Darth Daisy
    I remember the day Auggie’s dad brought Daisy home for the first time. Auggie and I were playing Trouble in his room when, all of a sudden, we heard high-pitched squealing coming from the front door. It was Via, Auggie’s big sister. We could also hear Isabel and Lourdes, my babysitter, talking excitedly. So we ran downstairs to see what the commotion was about.
    Nate, Auggie’s dad, was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, holding a squirming, crazy yellow dog in his lap. Via was kneeling down in front of the dog, trying to pet it, but the dog was kind of hyper and kept trying to lick her hand, which Via kept pulling away.
    â€œA dog!” Auggie screamed excitedly, running over to his dad.
    I ran over, too, but Lourdes grabbed me by the arm.
    â€œOh no,
papi
,” she said to me. She had just started babysitting me in those days, so I didn’t know her very well. I remember she used to put baby powder in my sneakers, which I still do now because it reminds me of her.
    Isabel’s hands were on the sides of her face. It was obvious that Nate had just come through the door. “I