Livvie Owen Lived Here by Sarah Dooley Page B

through the classroom as she readied us for lunch.
    â€œWhat’s three BR mean?”
    â€œCome again?” She distributed three lunch boxes to three students without looking. It seemed to be a talent that came natural to teachers.
    â€œThe paper says there’s a house for rent that’s three BR, one point five BA.”
    â€œThree bedroom, one and a half bath, dear.” She helped Robert on with his coat and coaxed Michael to leave all but one of his snake pictures behind, so he had a hand free to eat.
    I didn’t like the sound of “half bath.” It made methink of our leaky bathtub in the trailer. Counting in my head, I figured out that any ad about the Sun House would have to start with 4 BR and 1 BA. No halves. I scanned the rental section without luck.
    We visited the cafeteria between lunch shifts, so it wasn’t busy and full of people. I liked it quiet in the cafeteria because when it was even the littlest bit loud, the walls amplified the sound and it got extra loud and echoey. It hurt my ears some and it made me a little upset, but it really killed Michael. He just could not tolerate it. Peyton, too, seemed to dislike the louder noise, and she got louder when it was loud. Her singsongy sounds became shrieks and she banged her head on the back of her chair.
    Our peer helper came with us to lunch. His name was Jamie and he was a junior like Natasha. I liked him better than the peer helper who came during second period. Her name was Kristin and she was giggly and flirty and liked to hang around the most with Bristol and Robert, if she could be bothered to hang around with anyone at all. Mostly she just snuck her hands under the table and sent text messages back and forth with her boyfriend.
    Jamie helped us get our trays, except he didn’t have to help me or G because we were very careful to get it right. He did have to help Michael or Michael would take all of one food and none of thenext, and then get to his table and get frustrated because he only had one kind of food. Michael was not a planning-ahead sort of guy when it came to practical matters.
    Jamie sat next to G and helped her open her milk, which was hard for her. “Hey, G, what’s up, girl?” he asked happily, nudging her with his elbow. He and G were buddies. I wished I knew how to be buddies.
    Velcro ripped, even though G had been told time and again that talking and eating were not compatible, particularly if you used picture exchange. But then again, Jamie had asked.
    G must have said there wasn’t much up, because Jamie shook his head. “Not much? But aren’t you going to the pep rally Friday?”
    G bounced in her seat and giggled. She was girly when it came to things like pep rallies. She liked to watch the cheerleaders and she especially liked to watch the football players.
    I rolled my eyes and smiled at them, then let my gaze slide away. I was just about to take a bite of my grilled cheese sandwich when I heard the paper mill whistle, as loud and clear as if the lunch lady had done it. I dropped my sandwich and bumped the table. My spoon clattered to the floor so loud that Peyton shrieked and Michael clapped his hands overhis ears, knocking over his milk with his elbow. Bristol screamed and leapt clear of the spilled milk as it threatened to soak into her warm colors, and her scream inspired an even louder shriek from Peyton. In two instants, the paper mill whistle had demolished the relative quiet of the lunchroom, and all hell had broken loose, courtesy of me.
    The noise was so loud, I stood up and backed away. It would help if the whistle would stop blowing, but it blasted away just as merry as ever, although no one else at the table seemed to hear it.
    â€œI have to ask Tash if she heard it!” I yelled, and jumped up from the table as the whistle finally faded. I ran through the cafeteria, ducking around tables and jumping over chairs, bolting down the hallway before anyone