Never Wear Red Lipstick on Picture Day: (And Other Lessons I've Learned) by Allison Gutknecht

CHAPTER 1
    Fancy-Dancy Copycats

    MRS. SPANGLE IS GETTING ON MY NERVES.
    Sometimes Mrs. Spangle is the best second-grade teacher in the universe, and other times she is not. Today she is not, because we do not agree about when I should be allowed to wear my fancy-dancy sunglasses. Grandmom gave me these sunglasses, and they are just amazing, if I am being honest. Only, Mrs. Spangle does not think they are as amazing as I do, because when I put them on while I am doing my seatwork, I hear her clear her throat, and she does not do so very quietly either. I look over at her through my sunglasses, and she is staring right at me.

    â€œMandy,” she begins, “you know the rule about no sunglasses inside the school.” She gestures for me to take them off and then looks down at her desktop.
    I glance at the list of eight rules for our classroom, which hangs next to the board, then I shoot my hand in the air. When Mrs. Spangle does not call on me, I start to wave it, still wearing my sunglasses.
    â€œYes?” Mrs. Spangle finally sees me.
    â€œThere is no rule about sunglasses,” I say quietly, pointing to the list. “So I will just wear these, okay?”
    â€œNot okay,” Mrs. Spangle says, and she begins rustling in her desk drawer. She pulls out a black marker, walks over to our CLASSROOM RULES sign, and takes the cap off. “Sorry to interrupt your work, boys and girls, but who can tell me some accessories we are not allowed to wear inside the school building?”
    Hands shoot in the air all around me, but I just cross my arms and slouch down in my seat.
    â€œYes, Julia?” Mrs. Spangle calls.
    â€œHats,” Julia answers.
    â€œRight.” Mrs. Spangle begins writing a new rule—number nine—on our list. “No hats. . . . What else? Natalie?”
    â€œSunglasses,” Natalie answers, and I give her a dirty look, which is a waste because she cannot even see it through my sunglasses.
    â€œAhem.” Mrs. Spangle clears her throat again at me, but I pretend not to hear her. She writes sunglasses next to hats on our new rule number nine. “What else?”
    â€œPolka-dot underwear!” Dennis calls out super loudly, and I whip around in my seat real fast and stick my tongue out at him.
    â€œNo underwear talk in school, Dennis,” Mrs. Spangle says. “I’ll tell you what—I’m going to finish this rule with ‘No hats, sunglasses, or other outdoor accessories can be worn in the classroom.’ ” She dots the new rule with a period, even though I think it would be better with an exclamation mark, and she turns to face me. Mrs. Spangle and I stare at each other in silence.
    â€œMandy, sunglasses off. Now,” she finally says, so I pull the sunglasses off of my face and fold them on top of my desk.
    â€œInside your desk, please,” Mrs. Spangle continues, and I don’t know what she has against ­fancy-dancy sunglasses. “You can wear them when you’re outside at recess, but not one minute before.” I place my sunglasses inside my desk and cover them with a sheet of construction paper to protect them.
    Anya leans over and whispers in my ear, “Sorry about your sunglasses,” and this is why Anya is my favorite person in the world, at least most of the time. Because she understands what a tragedy it is to not be able to wear your ­fancy-dancy sunglasses during seatwork.
    I nod my head sadly at her, and then I feel a tap on my elbow. I turn, and Natalie is holding out her hand in a fist toward me, real low so Mrs. Spangle cannot see.
    â€œWhat is it?” I whisper-yell at her.
    Natalie shakes her fist up and down. “Take it,” she whispers.
    I reach out my hand toward hers, and she drops a slip of paper in my palm. I open it carefully so that it doesn’t make any crinkling sounds. I have a surprise to show you at recess, I read .
    I turn to her. “What is it?” I