Calli Be Gold by Michele Weber Hurwitz Read Free Book Online

reach for the bag of letters and hold it in my hand and swallow several times.
    Just when I’m about to plunge my hand inside, I hear the front door open. I toss the bag back into the middle of the table and quickly start shuffling the letters on my rack.
    “Okeydokey,” Grandma says, coming into the kitchen with a burst of cool air. “I’m ready.” Her breath stinks. “I think it was your turn.”
    “Yeah,” I say, my voice coming out a little shaky.
    “You got anything?” she asks.
    I look down at my letters and it hits me: I really was going to cheat. I really was going to do it. If Grandma hadn’t come barreling through the door at that very moment, I would have. I bite my lip. On how many occasions has Dad hammered in his belief about turning tough times into triumph? How you never give up, or give in, and all that stuff. Alex does it in basketball games, and Becca in skating. Me? I was ready to crumble withinminutes, over a dumb Scrabble game. Maybe I should change my last name.
    “Need any help?” Grandma Gold asks.
    “No,” I say sullenly.
    Now not only do I have the guilt of knowing how easily I would have cheated, but I’m also stuck with the letters I picked.
    Like today, when Noah asked me why I picked him.
    At first, I didn’t say anything. Why did I pick him?
    I thought about it for a minute; then I simply told him, “Because I did.”
    He stared at me, his mouth a bright small circle. Then, in a tiny squeaky voice, he said, “So now you’re stuck with me.”
    What things to be stuck with. All consonants and Noah Zullo.

ecca’s ankle turns out to be fine, and Mom is completely aggravated about wasting three hours getting it X-rayed. She’s slapping things around the kitchen, grumbling about being off schedule, and muttering how she didn’t get anything done this afternoon. We all know that when she gets like this, it’s best to stay out of her way.
    Grandma left in a rush, refusing the offer to stay for dinner. “I have just enough time to get to my Zumba class,” she said as she hurried out.
    At dinnertime, like usual, Dad asks Alex for his accomplishment of the day, and Becca for hers. I’m barely listening. I’m pushing my corn around on my plate, creating a pathway for the broccoli to wade through, whenDad calls out, “Calli! I had a brainstorm today, and it concerns you!”
    “A brainstorm?” I repeat, dropping my fork. “What do you mean, a brainstorm?”
    “Now, don’t say anything right away,” he tells me, smiling broadly. “Just hear me out first, okay?”
    “Okay,” I say hesitantly.
    “Are you ready?”
    “Yeah.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “Yeah, Dad, I’m ready.”
    He sits back in his chair and clasps his hands together. “Okay.” He pauses dramatically. “Improv.”
    “Improv?” I echo.
    “Bingo.”
    Becca snorts before I have a chance to react. “You’re not saying you think Calli should try acting now, are you?”
    He nods. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
    “Acting?” I scrunch up my nose and shake my head. “Dad …”
    “Consider it, Calli,” he says. “You’ve always had a terrific imagination. You think so much about all the characters in the books you read. Some of the world’s greatest actors are really shy people inside, you know.”
    My heart flutters. “You think I’m shy?”
    “Well,” he says, chuckling, “I suppose it’s no secret you’re a little quieter than the rest of us.”
    “I guess,” I answer softly.
    My hands fall to my lap as I try to imagine what an improv class would be like. People pretending to be animals, slithering around the floor like snakes or flapping their arms like birds? Or making up skits and telling really funny jokes? Or imitating famous people while everyone else has to guess who they are?
    “I don’t know, Dad,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat.
    “You know what your father always promotes,” Mom pipes up.
    I recite it in a bored-sounding voice. “ ‘Try anything