I’m skinny with frizzy red hair that springs all around when I dance. Daddy says I remind him of a scrawny pine tree set afire like Moses’ burning bush. I think I’m more like a bouncy ball that someone hurled down a tunnel.
“Be still, Virginia,” Miss Dobson always tells me, but it’s so hard.
I am still when she gives back my history test. I fold the paper carefully into a square the size of a caramel and push it into the back of my desk.Read More