Iris: The American Dream Series Book One

The Seventh Grader

Mrs. Dana assigned us a poetry project that required us to work in pairs. Abby reached over and grabbed my wrist in English class, whispering, "Partners?" I nodded gratefully.

We decided to work at her house after school on the Wednesday before Halloween so that we could get started on our project. Pim threw me a look when I told him I had plans after school, but I promised him we'd take Step One (he'd taken to calling the different parts of our plan Step One, Step Two, and Step Three) as soon as I got home from Abby's. I rode the bus home with her that afternoon and we got off at the foot of a hill, then walked up the sidewalk to a giant house with a view of the valley.

"Come on." Abby led us up to the door and unlocked it with a key. Inside, the entryway opened into a giant sunken living room. I walked over to a floor-to-ceiling window that looked down over all of the houses and winding streets below us.

"Wow." Sunlight glinted off the aqua surfaces of the swimming pools in the distance. "This is awesome," I said.

"Thanks," Abby said. "Hey, do you want a snack before we get started?"

"Sure."

I followed her into the kitchen, which had the same view of the valley. The stove had six burners and a big rack hanging over it, with copper pots and pans dangling from its hooks just like we'd had in Holland. I stood there for a moment, remembering our old kitchen; a wave of homesickness washed over me. Abby threw open the refrigerator and stood there, staring at the shelves.

"We could have cheese and crackers, cold pizza, veggies and ranch dip, frozen waffles, tuna sandwiches, Bagel Bites..." she ran through the list of possibilities. "Want a Coke?"

"Yes, please."

Abby moved around the kitchen, pulling glasses from the cupboard and filling them with ice. She set my glass on the island. The Coke fizzed in the glasses.

"What are Bagel Bites?" I asked, taking a sip of my soda.

"Seriously?" She looked surprised. "You've never had them? They're tiny frozen bagels and you put them on a baking sheet and throw them in the oven. When you take them out, they're like mini pizzas on bagels. They're soooo good!"

"Really? Can we have those, please? I mean, if it isn't too much trouble." I suddenly felt shy, and as Abby cooked up our snack, I roamed around the kitchen, glass in my hand, looking at the family pictures that were tacked to the bulletin board and framed on the counters. "Who is this?" I pointed at a picture of Abby and a boy who looked about our age.

"That's my brother, Zach," Abby replied, bending over as she slid the tray of Bagel Bites into the hot oven. "Haven't you seen him at school?"

I shook my head no.

"He's in seventh grade. We get along okay," she explained, tossing her oven mitt onto the counter and sipping her Coke. "But we're pretty much complete opposites when it comes to our personalities."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, my family is really into doing stuff outdoors, but Zach hates to camp and hike. He likes sports, but his favorite thing to do is stay home and hang out in his bedroom." Abby rolled her eyes.

"That sounds like my brother!" I laughed. "But he didn't spend as much time in his room when we lived in Holland as he does now."

"You have a brother too?" Abby asked. "Does he go to Jordan with us?"

"No, he's a freshman at Palo Alto. And I have twin sisters who just started first grade."

"Twins? That's awesome! Are they exactly alike?"