MR. BENNETT WALKED into room 212 carrying a plastic bag. He smoothed his sweatshirt that read DEATH TO STEREOTYPES, tucked Claus his rubber chicken under his arm, raised one eyebrow, and jumped on his desk. He opened the bag, lifted a loaf of bread into the air and shouted, "Sell it to me." He threw the bread on the desk.
Peyton crawler let his eyes go back into his head like he'd been dead for years. Harper Wilhelm hollered, "It's good for you." Everyone in sixth-grade English groaned. Mr. Bennette shook his head. "It's has to be more than that." "You're hungry," Katie Nessbitt said. Mr. B shrugged. I see where he's going. I raised my hand. Do you like toast?" Peyton Crawler smirked. "That's stupid." Go back to being dead, Peyton. "As a matter of fact," Mr.B announced, "I love toast." I pressed in. "With butter and jam?" He pulled down his orange wool hat and grinned. "Strawberry jam." I had what I needed. I ran up and grabbed the bread. "Then I can tell you, that this bread"-- I looked at the label--"Aunt Fanny's Homemade Honey Bread", makes the best toast in the universe." Mr. Bennett jumped off the desk and looked at the price. It's expensive." "It costs more because it's better, "I told him."And you can freeze half of it, and only use it when you want toast. He walked to the huge B that hung on the wall behind his desk--the great B, he called it.
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AdventureBy:Joan Bauer Sugar could sure use some sweetness in her life.... That can take away your house, but they can't take away your hope. TWELVE YEAR-OLD sugar Mae cole and her mother, Reba, have never had a lot, but they've always had each other.And tha...
