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11 l Secondhand


Some things were easier to explain in your head, Beezus thought miserably, tugging at the bulky fleece sweater hidden under her winter coat, her hair sticking to the back of her neck and her chest filled with an unbearable warmth. A girl couldn't possibly excuse her terrible Christmas present, which she had been forced to wear by an imploring mother this morning, with the true but excruciatingly embarrassing words, "it was all my parents could afford." But now she was sitting in class, bemoaning that her wish came true and she was now trapped in a bubble of heat she couldn't escape.

"Try again," Mary Jane whispered, her eyes on the back of the teacher's head, voice low, hurried and fortunately empty of pity. The others, however, continued to giggle and Beezus would have sunk lower in her seat but the heaters were on full blast and her face was already shining with sweat.

"I can't," she moaned, accidentally sliding forward and kicking the seat in front. Henry turned, the pencil in his mouth dropping when he saw her wrinkled face.

"You ok?" he asked, eyes wide and Beezus shook her head, looking down wretchedly at her crumpled clothes. The snickers grew louder. Then they suddenly stopped and Beezus glanced up to see Henry glaring at the students behind her, brows slanted firmly downwards, his eyes hard.

"Is there a problem Beezus?" the teacher called and Beezus straightened instantly.

"Beezus can't take off her jacket and it's too hot," Henry said and the class fell completely silent.

"Well come here, I'll help you take it off."

Beezus squirmed, once again very aware of the vibrant and gaudy sparkling sweater underneath. Then she caught Henry's sidelong glance and remembered how he had scowled. She took a breath, nodded and stood up.