Never Wear Red Lipstick on Picture Day: (And Other Lessons I've Learned) by Allison Gutknecht Read Free Book Online Page A

wearing my new scarf to school tomorrow,” I announce from the couch. “And my new shoes, too.”
    â€œI thought you wanted to save those shoes for Picture Day,” Mom says, “so you can show them off with your matching periwinkle dress.”
    I consider this for one second. “Okay,” I say. “But I am bringing the scarf.”
    And I just know that this scarf is too special for Natalie to ever figure out how to copycat it.

    On Monday, I wear my scarf around my neck all the way to school, and everyone on the bus oohs and aahs over it, which I like a lot. When I get off the bus, I skip over with excited feet to my class’s line in the gym, and I search the crowd for Anya’s wispy blond curls.
    â€œAnya!” I yell when I spot her. “ANYA!” Anya turns around.
    â€œI LOVE YOUR SCARF,” she yells back instantly.
    â€œMe too,” I say. “Do you think this is an outdoor accessory?”
    â€œHmm.” Anya considers. “No, I think you can probably wear it in the classroom. Mrs. Spangle sometimes wears scarves inside.”
    â€œGood.” I nod with satisfaction. “That’s what I thought too.”
    â€œUgly scarf, Polka Dot.” Dennis appears behind me. “It matches your face.”
    â€œQuiet, Dennis,” Anya says, defending me. “No one’s talking to you.”
    â€œYeah, quiet, Freckle Face,” I agree. “My scarf is beautiful.”
    â€œNah,” Dennis says, and he reaches out to touch it, even though I never gave him permission to touch my things. “Eww, and it’s scratchy, too.”
    â€œQUIET, Dennis,” I yell louder, and I unwind the scarf from around my neck. “I hope it scratches your nose.” I grab my scarf by the end and whip it toward Dennis’s face, then I pull it back real fast so he cannot try to grab it.
    â€œExcuse me,” I hear from over my shoulder, and Anya gasps. And Anya gasping is never a good sign, I’ve learned.
    I turn slowly and see my scarf—my beautiful, glittery, wonderful scarf—covering someone’s face. And not just anyone’s face: a grown-up’s face.
    The grown-up reaches his hand up to pull the scarf off of him, and that’s when I see the person I have hit in the head: Principal Jacks.
    Oh no.
    â€œMandy, right?” Principal Jacks asks me, but I am only able to stare back at him, my eyes so wide that they cannot even blink. I pull my scarf back into my own hands quickly.
    â€œYep, that’s her name!” Dennis calls out when I do not answer. “Mandy Berr.”
    Without another word, Principal Jacks reaches out his right hand toward me, and for a second I think that he wants to shake hands, so I reach my own right hand out to do so. But Principal Jacks does not crack one smile.
    â€œThe scarf, please,” he says. “This is going to live in my office for a while, until you learn not to use it like a weapon.” I feel myself letting Principal Jacks take my scarf away, and even though I want to shout about it, or cry about it, or scream about it, my mouth is dry like cotton balls, and I say nothing.
    And then I hear Dennis snort with laughter.

    â€œDennis Riley,” Principal Jacks scolds him. “I have a feeling you weren’t innocent in whatever the problem was here, so watch it. Remember what we discussed.” Dennis’s mouth falls into a serious straight line.
    â€œCome to my office at the end of the week for your scarf, Mandy,” Principal Jacks says to me. “And I hope you and I don’t have to see any more of each other before then.”
    â€œAre you okay?” Anya asks me as Principal Jacks walks away, my glittery scarf trailing out of his hand and onto the ground.
    â€œNo.” I shake my head. “I am not.”
    â€œWhat happened?” Natalie appears next to us, and she is just about the last person I feel like talking to right now. That