Teacher's Pet by Laurie Halse Anderson Read Free Book Online Page B

right at the top of the stairs.”
    Scout guides perfectly.
    â€œHere we are,” I say. “The conference room.”
    Mr. Carlson puts his hand out and feels the raised numbers on the sign that hangs by the door. “Excellent,” he says. “That wasn’t so bad. Thanks, Maggie. You’ve been a great help.”
    â€œDo you want me to show you how to get to your classroom?” I ask.
    â€œNo, that’s OK. I know where we went wrong on Friday. I took the wrong staircase. I know how to get back. But if you want to do this again tomorrow, I’d like to learn my way around the art wing.”
    â€œI can’t come tomorrow. Gran has a yoga class in the morning. How about the next day, Wednesday?”
    â€œPerfect.”
    The bell rings loudly, and Scout’s ears perk up.
    â€œHere we go again,” I sigh.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Mr. Carlson asks. “Don’t you like your first class?”
    â€œYou’re kidding, right? No offense, but I don’t like any of them.”

    Working with Scout and Mr. Carlson was a great way to start the day, but it goes downhill from there. Half of my math homework is wrong. I can’t find my English essay, and I forgot my lunch. In the afternoon I drop my binder in the hall, and the entire eighth grade walks on my papers. Looking forward to seeing Scout is the only thing that keeps me going.
    â€œHi, Mr. Carlson!” I say as I walk into class.
    Scout is sitting up next to Mr. Carlson, watching the students file into the classroom. The dog’s ears are perked up and his eyes are bright. It looks like they’ve had a good day. It takes a lot of control for me not to say anything to Scout or sneak in a little ear scratching. But I manage. Barely.
    â€œHi, Maggie,” Mr. Carlson answers. “Long time no see.”
    He pauses. “It’s a joke. You’re supposed to laugh.”
    Scout wags his tail. He likes Mr. Carlson’s sense of humor.
    Mr. Carlson sets a transparency on the overhead projector and turns to face the class. Scout swings around to stay on his left side.
    I freeze in place. Will he do it?
    Mr. Carlson bends over slightly and pets his dog’s head. “Good boy,” he says quietly. Scout leans his head against Mr. Carlson’s hand and closes his eyes slightly. He loves the attention.
    Yes! One small step taken!
    â€œTake your seats, please,” Mr. Carlson tells the class. “Get out a piece of paper and a pencil.” He flips on the projector. Ten vocabulary words and four questions glow on the screen.
    â€œIt’s the first pop quiz of the year,” Mr. Carlson says. “I hope you studied your notes this weekend.”
    The class groans.
    A pop quiz?
    How can he do this to us? How can he do this to me? Why didn’t he tell me this morning?
    I stumble to my desk and dig a piece of paper out of my backpack. I’m not the only one who is upset. The room sounds like a nest of angry hornets.
    â€œThat’s enough now—quiet down,” Mr. Carlson says loudly. “This is middle school. You are responsible for going over your notes after every class. Please get started.”
    And here I was thinking he was a good guy, different than the other teachers! They’re all the same, trying to trick us into making mistakes.

    I scribble my name at the top of the paper and write out the first definition:

    Um, I know the retina is in the eye, too. Mr. Carlson’s retinas don’t work—that’s why he can’t see. But what is the definition?
    I glance over at Scout. He sees me staring at him and raises his left eyebrow. It reminds me of Gran. German shepherds have been bred to be smart. I bet Scout could pass this quiz with one paw tied behind his back.

    I thought I studied my notes. I read them, I know I did. If that’s not the right thing to do, then what is? And I looked at these vocab words, too. PUPIL. It’s a part of