Ruby “Okay, fingers on lips, guys.” Our school teacher, Miss Wilson, silenced the class with a shush. I liked Miss Wilson. She was nice. She wasn’t old like my last teacher, who always smelled like toilet freshener. Miss Wilson was young and had a pretty smile. She had blonde curly hair that reminded me of spaghetti. I sat at the table with three other children, picking the PVA glue and glitter from my fingers like a sparkly layer of skin. “Does anyone need to take a bathroom break?” Miss Wilson asked, her eyes scanning the classroom for a show of raised hands. “Okay, kids, put on your coats, then go line up at the door.” Miss Wilson instructed, wincing at the sound of scraping chairs. We all hurried with enthusiasm towards the named coat pegs. I stuffed my arms through the sleeves of my red jacket, then dashed towards the exit. Once the entire class was ready and lined up, Miss Wilson opened the door for a tw
Read more