Just as Long as We're Together by Judy Blume Page B
Authors: Judy Blume
Tags: United States, General, People & Places, Family, Juvenile Fiction, Social Issues, Friendship, Adoption, Asian American
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herself to more linguini.
I'm glad you mentioned that, Mom, Peter would say. From now on I'll keep a look-out for anything red on the back of her pants.
That's very though~ul of you, Peter, Dr. Kiaff would say. So many boys your age act foolish about menstruation. Here, have some more bread.
I must have had a strange expression on my face because Peter said, "What?"
"Nothing. . ." I said. "I was just wondering if your mother talks about her patients at home
like when you're sitting around the dinner table?"
"Nah . . . she talks about the Mets. She's a baseball fanatic."
"What about when baseball season's over . . like now?"
"Movies," Peter said. "She's a movie fanatic, too."
"Oh. . ." I felt relieved. "I thought maybe she talks about diseases and stuff like that."
"Hardly ever," Peter said.
This was definitely the longest conversation we'd ever had. And I didn't want it to end yet. So I said, "Do you use apple shampoo?"
"Yeah. . . how did you know?"
"I can smell it," I said. "It smells nice."
He came even closer to me, stood on tiptoe, and sniffed my hair. "Yours smells nice, too. Like
"Almonds," I told him.
"Yeah. . . like almonds."
The next morning, when I got to homeroom, I found a small plastic bottle on my desk. On the side there was a picture of an apple. I opened it and sniffed what was inside. Apple shampoo! I looked over at Peter Klaff. We smiled at each other and I put the bottle in my bag. This was the first gift I'd ever had from a boy. I was glad Alison was busy talking to Miri Levine and that neither one of them had noticed the private look Peter and I shared.
The following morning Mrs. Remo was late getting to homeroom. While we were waiting to see if we'd have a substitute, Eric Macaulay told us a gross joke. Alison threw her shoe at him and said, "That is the sleaziest joke I've ever heard!"
Just as her shoe hit Eric's head Mrs. Remo came into the room.
"Really!" Mrs. Remo said. "This is not the kind of behavior I expect from my homeroom when I'm late. Alison and Stephanie . . . you can both report to me after school this afternoon."
I was shocked. First of all, I hadn't been doing anything wrong. Second of all, I'd never seen Mrs. Remo in such a bad mood.
We told ~Rache1 about it at lunch. She couldn't believe it either. "Just because you threw your shoe at him?" she asked Alison.
"Yes," Alison said.
Then 1 said, "And when Alison tried to explain that I didn't have anything to do with it, Mrs. Remo said, Maybe next time you'll think before you act. Now what does that have to do with anything?" 1 asked Rachel. "I mean, does that make any sense to you?"
"No," Rachel said.
"She's been acting that way since we came back from Thanksgiving," Alison said.
"Maybe she didn't have a good holiday," Rachel suggested.
"Probably plenty of people didn't have a good holiday," Alison said.
I didn't say anything. I just unwrapped my lunch and started to eat.
On Thursday night I was in the pantry with the phone, talking to Alison and finishing off a bag of oatmeal cookies. As soon as I hung up, the phone rang again. I picked it up, expecting Rachel or maybe Alison, who sometimes forgets to tell me something and has to call back. But it was Peter Klaff. He asked for our math assignment. I gave it to him. Then he said, "Thank you very much," and he hung up.
I couldn't believe it. Peter Klaff calling me! How come he didn't ask his sister, Kara, for the assignment? She's also in our math class. There must have been more to his call than math.
Later, Dad called, but I refused to speak to him. "Tell him I'm in the shower," I said to Bruce.
Before I went to sleep I did take a shower. And I washed my hair with Peter Klaff's apple shampoo. When I got into bed I looked up at Benjamin Moore. Peter's not a hunk, like Benjamin. And he's not as sexy as Jeremy Dragon. But for a seventh grade boy, he's okay. I think I might decide to like him.
25.
The
Sharing Season.
The symphonic band is playing for the
I'm glad you mentioned that, Mom, Peter would say. From now on I'll keep a look-out for anything red on the back of her pants.
That's very though~ul of you, Peter, Dr. Kiaff would say. So many boys your age act foolish about menstruation. Here, have some more bread.
I must have had a strange expression on my face because Peter said, "What?"
"Nothing. . ." I said. "I was just wondering if your mother talks about her patients at home
like when you're sitting around the dinner table?"
"Nah . . . she talks about the Mets. She's a baseball fanatic."
"What about when baseball season's over . . like now?"
"Movies," Peter said. "She's a movie fanatic, too."
"Oh. . ." I felt relieved. "I thought maybe she talks about diseases and stuff like that."
"Hardly ever," Peter said.
This was definitely the longest conversation we'd ever had. And I didn't want it to end yet. So I said, "Do you use apple shampoo?"
"Yeah. . . how did you know?"
"I can smell it," I said. "It smells nice."
He came even closer to me, stood on tiptoe, and sniffed my hair. "Yours smells nice, too. Like
"Almonds," I told him.
"Yeah. . . like almonds."
The next morning, when I got to homeroom, I found a small plastic bottle on my desk. On the side there was a picture of an apple. I opened it and sniffed what was inside. Apple shampoo! I looked over at Peter Klaff. We smiled at each other and I put the bottle in my bag. This was the first gift I'd ever had from a boy. I was glad Alison was busy talking to Miri Levine and that neither one of them had noticed the private look Peter and I shared.
The following morning Mrs. Remo was late getting to homeroom. While we were waiting to see if we'd have a substitute, Eric Macaulay told us a gross joke. Alison threw her shoe at him and said, "That is the sleaziest joke I've ever heard!"
Just as her shoe hit Eric's head Mrs. Remo came into the room.
"Really!" Mrs. Remo said. "This is not the kind of behavior I expect from my homeroom when I'm late. Alison and Stephanie . . . you can both report to me after school this afternoon."
I was shocked. First of all, I hadn't been doing anything wrong. Second of all, I'd never seen Mrs. Remo in such a bad mood.
We told ~Rache1 about it at lunch. She couldn't believe it either. "Just because you threw your shoe at him?" she asked Alison.
"Yes," Alison said.
Then 1 said, "And when Alison tried to explain that I didn't have anything to do with it, Mrs. Remo said, Maybe next time you'll think before you act. Now what does that have to do with anything?" 1 asked Rachel. "I mean, does that make any sense to you?"
"No," Rachel said.
"She's been acting that way since we came back from Thanksgiving," Alison said.
"Maybe she didn't have a good holiday," Rachel suggested.
"Probably plenty of people didn't have a good holiday," Alison said.
I didn't say anything. I just unwrapped my lunch and started to eat.
On Thursday night I was in the pantry with the phone, talking to Alison and finishing off a bag of oatmeal cookies. As soon as I hung up, the phone rang again. I picked it up, expecting Rachel or maybe Alison, who sometimes forgets to tell me something and has to call back. But it was Peter Klaff. He asked for our math assignment. I gave it to him. Then he said, "Thank you very much," and he hung up.
I couldn't believe it. Peter Klaff calling me! How come he didn't ask his sister, Kara, for the assignment? She's also in our math class. There must have been more to his call than math.
Later, Dad called, but I refused to speak to him. "Tell him I'm in the shower," I said to Bruce.
Before I went to sleep I did take a shower. And I washed my hair with Peter Klaff's apple shampoo. When I got into bed I looked up at Benjamin Moore. Peter's not a hunk, like Benjamin. And he's not as sexy as Jeremy Dragon. But for a seventh grade boy, he's okay. I think I might decide to like him.
25.
The
Sharing Season.
The symphonic band is playing for the
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