Wonder by R. J. Palacio Read Free Book Online

you’re here to do.”
    “I thought we were here to learn English,” Jack cracked, which made everyone laugh.
    “Oh yeah, and that, too!” Mr. Browne answered, which I thought was very cool of him. He turned around and wrote in big huge block letters that spread all the way across the chalkboard:
    MR. BROWNE’S SEPTEMBER PRECEPT:
    WHEN GIVEN THE CHOICE BETWEEN BEING
    RIGHT OR BEING KIND, CHOOSE KIND.
    “Okay, so, everybody,” he said, facing us again, “I want you to start a brand-new section in your notebooks and call it Mr. Browne’s Precepts.”
    He kept talking as we did what he was telling us to do.
    “Put today’s date at the top of the first page. And from now on, at the beginning of every month, I’m going to write a new Mr. Browne precept on the chalkboard and you’re going to write it down in your notebook. Then we’re going to discuss that precept and what it means. And at the end of the month, you’re going to write an essay about it, about what it means to you. So by the end of the year, you’ll all have your own list of precepts to take away with you.
    “Over the summer, I ask all my students to come up with their very own personal precept, write it on a postcard, and mail it to me from wherever you go on your summer vacation.”
    “People really do that?” said one girl whose name I didn’t know.
    “Oh yeah!” he answered, “people really do that. I’ve had students send me new precepts years after they’ve graduated from this school, actually. It’s pretty amazing.”
    He paused and stroked his beard.
    “But, anyway, next summer seems like a long way off, I know,” he joked, which made us laugh. “So, everybody relax a bit while I take attendance, and then when we’re finished with that, I’ll start telling you about all the fun stuff we’re going to be doing this year—in
English
.” He pointed to Jack when he said this, which was also funny, so we all laughed at that.
    As I wrote down Mr. Browne’s September precept, I suddenly realized that I was going to like school. No matter what.

Lunch
    Via had warned me about lunch in middle school, so I guess I should have known it would be hard. I just hadn’t expected it to be this hard. Basically, all the kids from all the fifth-grade classes poured into the cafeteria at the same time, talking loudly and bumping into one another while they ran to different tables. One of the lunchroom teachers said something about no seat-saving allowed, but I didn’t know what she meant and maybe no one else did, either, because just about everybody was saving seats for their friends. I tried to sit down at one table, but the kid in the next chair said, “Oh, sorry, but somebody else is sitting here.”
    So I moved to an empty table and just waited for everyone to finish stampeding and the lunchroom teacher to tell us what to do next. As she started telling us the cafeteria rules, I looked around to see where Jack Will was sitting, but I didn’t see him on my side of the room. Kids were still coming in as the teachers started calling the first few tables to get their trays and stand on line at the counter. Julian, Henry, and Miles were sitting at a table toward the back of the room.
    Mom had packed me a cheese sandwich, graham crackers, and a juice box, so I didn’t need to stand on line when my table was called. Instead, I just concentrated on opening my backpack, pulling out my lunch bag, and slowly opening the aluminum-foil wrapping of my sandwich.
    I could tell I was being stared at without even looking up. I knew that people were nudging each other, watching me out ofthe corners of their eyes. I thought I was used to those kinds of stares by now, but I guess I wasn’t.
    There was one table of girls that I knew were whispering about me because they were talking behind their hands. Their eyes and whispers kept bouncing over to me.
    I hate the way I eat. I know how weird it looks. I had a surgery to fix my cleft palate when I was a baby,