Say cheese, p.1
Say Cheese, page 1
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE: Shark Tooth
CHAPTER TWO: Blurry
CHAPTER THREE: Cotton-Candy Blob
CHAPTER FOUR: Puffy Mittens
CHAPTER FIVE: Fixing the Pouf
CHAPTER SIX: Purrtholomew
CHAPTER SEVEN: Air Punches
CHAPTER EIGHT: Smile!
CHAPTER NINE: For Laughs
Acknowledgments
About the Creators
Published by
PEACHTREE PUBLISHING COMPANY INC.
1700 Chattahoochee Avenue
Atlanta, Georgia 30318-2112
PeachtreeBooks.com
Text © 2024 by Jan Carr
Illustrations © 2024 by Kris Mukai
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Edited by Catherine Frank
Design and composition by Lily Steele
The illustrations were rendered digitally.
Printed and bound in July 2024 at Lake Book Manufacturing,
Melrose Park, IL, USA
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
First Edition
ISBN: 978-1-68263-697-8
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Carr, Jan (M. J.), author. | Mukai, Kris, illustrator.
Title: Say cheese / Jan Carr ; illustrated by Kris Mukai.
Description: First edition. | Atlanta : Peachtree, 2024. | Series: Buddy
and Bea | Audience: Ages 5 - 8 years. | Audience: Grades K-1. | Summary:
On school picture day, Bea, reluctantly adorned in a fluffy dress,
suggests Buddy remove his glasses for a better photo, but when they
mysteriously disappear, she takes on the task of finding them leading to
a comical adventure.
Identifiers: LCCN 2024007338 | ISBN 9781682636978 (hardback) | ISBN
9781682636985 (ebook)
Subjects: CYAC: Photographs--Fiction. | Schools--Fiction. |
Friendship--Fiction. | Lost and found possessions--Fiction. | Humorous
stories. | LCGFT: School fiction. | Humorous fiction. | Novels.
Classification: LCC PZ7.C22947 Say 2024 | DDC [Fic]--dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2024007338
To Mara. I met your mom, Gea,
when she was a newborn, and your nana, Ellen,
when we were still nearly just kids ourselves.
Now I’m so happy to know YOU!
—J.C.
For Morgan and Harper
—K.M.
CHAPTER ONE
Shark Tooth
On school mornings, at drop-off, the grown-ups usually disappeared quickly. They had places to go, things to do. But that morning, Buddy noticed, all the grown-ups stuck close to their kids.
Omar’s mom was straightening his bow tie. Really? Omar was wearing a bow tie? And Kaveh’s dad was picking lint off his blazer. His blazer?
Buddy hardly recognized some of his friends. Even Amber looked all matchy-matchy. The beads in her braids were the same the color as her T-shirt and high-tops.
Only Joey looked regular. He was wearing a soccer jersey, a shiny new one. At least, Buddy figured it was soccer. Joey knew all the sports teams. Buddy had trouble keeping them straight.
Joey’s mom snapped a picture of him. All the grown-ups were taking pictures.
That was weird, thought Buddy. True, it was school picture day. But the pictures were supposed to happen later. In school!
“Smile,” said Poppy. He took a picture of Buddy.
Buddy was glad his dads hadn’t made him dress up too much. Poppy had helped him pick out a nice shirt. And Daddo helped find his shark-tooth necklace, which always got lost in the jumble of his drawer. Then Poppy and Daddo had worked together to tamp down the cowlick in his hair. Poppy had slicked gel on it while Daddo combed it flat.
“If the picture turns out well,” said Poppy, “we’ll send one to Halmeoni.”
Halmeoni was Buddy’s grandmother. Buddy loved Halmeoni.
“You mean, like, in a frame?” asked Buddy.
Poppy nodded. “A nice, classy one,” he said. “If it’s good.”
Now, in front of the school, Poppy straightened Buddy’s glasses. Sometimes, they got a little askew. “Remember,” he said. “Straighten these guys up just before the photo.”
“I will,” Buddy promised.
Then Buddy spied Bea. She was walking toward them with her gran. Bea was wearing pink. That wasn’t unusual. Her gran always made her wear pink. But for picture day, Bea looked particularly frilly. The skirt of her dress puffed out like cotton candy.
Bea stopped in front of him while her gran fluffed up her pink sash. Then Gran pulled a tissue out of her pocket, spit on it, and rubbed at a smudge on Bea’s face.
Whoa! Bea’s gran put spit on her? Just like Bea had put spit on the cowlick in his hair? The very first day of school?
Bea and her family sure liked spit!
“Hold still,” said Gran. Bea did. Wow.
Gran was the only person Buddy had ever seen who could be the boss of Bea.
After Gran said goodbye, the other girls swarmed around Bea, oohing and aahing.
“Your dress!” said Marisol. “You look like a princess!”
“A fairy princess,” Keiko whispered, like she was witnessing something magical.
Buddy could tell they both wanted the dress.
“Yeah?” said Bea. “Well, I hate princesses.”
Bea’s hands were balled into fists. She looked like she might punch the next person who called her a princess. She glared at Buddy.
Should he say something? “You look like a princess, um . . . action figure?” he tried.
Was that better?
Bea scowled. She tugged at the clip-on bows in her hair. They were supposed to hold down the flyaway parts. But Bea’s hair would not be tamed.
Poppy leaned down to talk to Bea. “You don’t look like a princess to me,” he said.
“No?” Bea stared at Poppy, waiting for more.
“Nope. Not at all. To me, you look like a prizefighter.”
“What’s that?” asked Bea.
“It’s a boxer,” said Poppy.
“You mean one of those dogs?” asked Bea.
“No.” Poppy put his fists up and took some fake punches. “Boxing.”
“Like with a punching bag?” she asked.
Buddy frowned. What was Poppy even talking about? Bea didn’t look like a boxer.
“But she’s pink,” he said.
“Because she’s in disguise,” said Poppy. “So most people won’t notice. But I saw her fists. Balled up at her sides.” He winked at Bea. “You can’t fool me, champ!”
Bea brightened. She raised her fists in front of her face and took a few play punches at Poppy. Pow-Pow-Pow! Then she swiveled and punched Buddy in the arm.
“Stop!” said Buddy.
“It’s a friend punch,” said Bea. She pulled at the skirt of her dress. Like she would rip it off if she could. “I hate this thing,” she said. “Gran made me wear it.”
Duh, thought Buddy.
Buddy fingered his shark-tooth necklace. He was glad his dads had let him pick out his own clothes. He was especially glad he got to wear his shark tooth. Sharks were fierce. And scary. Buddy knew he wasn’t like a shark exactly. Some people might call him the opposite. Sort of like Bea was the opposite of pink.
But there was a difference. Buddy wanted to be like a shark. Because people didn’t mess with sharks. Maybe, if people saw him wearing the necklace, they wouldn’t mess with him. Maybe Bea would think twice before punching him in the arm. Sharks had sharp teeth! Chomp!
Also, the shark-tooth necklace was the perfect choice for picture day.
It would look totally cool in the photo.
CHAPTER TWO
Blurry
As soon as Bea got into the classroom, she ripped the bows out of her hair and wadded them up in her fist. Then she pulled at the folds of her dress, searching for a pocket to stash them in. There weren’t any.
“Party dresses don’t have pockets,” said Marisol.
Bea sneered at the bows. “So what am I supposed to do with these?”
“I’ll take them,” Marisol offered.
“Me, too!” said Keiko.
Bea tossed them the bows. Actually, she hurled them. “Here!”
Then Bea turned to Buddy. “Your hair,” she said. She reached for his cowlick to pat it down.
Oh no. She wasn’t starting this up again. Buddy blocked her. “Stop it,” he said. “My hair’s fixed already. Poppy and Daddo did it.”
Bea squinted at his face. “But what about your glasses?”
“What about them?”
“You’re taking them off for the picture, right?”
“I need them. To see.”
“So do it right before,” said Bea. “Before the photo guy yells out, ‘Say cheese!’” She reached up for his glasses and pulled them off. This time, Buddy wasn’t quick enough to block her.
“Wow,” said Bea, staring at his face. “Much better. You actually have a nice face without glasses. I didn’t even know.”
“Give me those!” said Buddy. He grabbed back h
“Buddy,” said Bea. “I had no idea you had such a good face. Are you afraid to show your face? Don’t be. Be confident. Everyone should be confident. Even people with bad faces. But yours is good.”
The other girls were crowding close, ogling Bea’s dress. Bea squirmed, as if the dress prickled her, or was too tight. Like a skin that didn’t fit. Like she would wriggle out if she could.
Buddy stepped clear. He touched his face. Did Bea mean it when she said it was good? Maybe he still had time to run to the bathroom before class. He could check out his face there. In the mirror.
But when Buddy got to the bathroom, a weird feeling waved over him. Like this had happened before. Poppy had told him there was a word for when you felt like that. A funny-sounding word. Maybe day-jah view? Or day-jah voo? Something like that.
Oh. Wait. It had happened before. That first day of school when Bea had bugged him about his cowlick. He’d gone to the bathroom to check it out. And that day, he’d gotten stuck between the urinals. Eesh. That had been majorly embarrassing.
Well, he definitely wouldn’t let that happen again. He’d just duck in and check which way his face looked better. With glasses? Or without?
Buddy stepped up to the mirror. He turned his face from side to side, looking. With? He set his glasses on the ledge of the sink. Or without?
Without just looked blurrier.
Behind him, a door opened. A door to a stall.
“Lookin’ good,” said a voice. A voice that didn’t mean it.
It was Cosmo. Cosmo was in Jabari’s class, another one of the second grades. Buddy didn’t like him much.
“Getting ready for picture day, eh, Buddy boy?” said Cosmo. He sneered. “Nice necklace.”
Buddy clasped his necklace. He thrust it out toward Cosmo. “Shark tooth,” he said. “Chomp!” He bared his own teeth. Trying to look mean. Shark mean.
“Yeah,” said Cosmo. “Whatever.”
Why did it feel like Cosmo was the one who was the shark? Like he was the one circling, ready to slice Buddy to shreds?
Buddy wanted to say something back. Something sharklike and biting. But his brain fuzzed over. It felt as blurry as his eyes. Maybe he should just leave the bathroom. Before anything bad could happen. Anything urinal-level bad.
As he walked out the door, he bumped into a kid walking in. A little kid. Kindergarten, probably. Whoops.
“Hey!” said the kid.
“Sorry,” said Buddy. He hurried back to the classroom.
When he got there, everyone was already on the rug. Ms. Maple was waiting for the class to settle down. Buddy squeezed in at the back.
“Good morning, Whirligigs,” said Ms. Maple. Whirligigs was the name of their class. Because whirligigs were maple seeds. And their teacher’s name was Ms. Maple. “I notice,” she said, “that a lot of you are particularly spiffed up for picture day.”
“And you, too,” said Bea. “That’s a lovely sweater you’re wearing.”
Ms. Maple laughed. “This old thing? I’ll take it off for pictures. It’s big and sloppy, so it will keep my dress fresh for the photo.”
“I need to keep mine fresh,” said Bea. “So maybe I could borrow your sweater. It could cover up my whole dress.”
Ms. Maple looked startled. As if she hadn’t expected Bea to ask that. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Then she shook her head. “Sorry, Bea,” she said.
“But what if I spill lunch on my dress?”
“Our pictures are before lunch,” said Ms. Maple. “We’re scheduled this morning.”
Bea was still eyeing the sweater. “It has beautiful buttons,” she said. “Are they real pearls?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Ms. Maple.
Buddy squinted. He couldn’t really see the buttons. Why were they so blurry? Maybe his glasses were askew. He reached up to push them higher on his nose so he could see better.
Oh no.
His glasses weren’t there. Buddy’s stomach lurched. Where were his glasses? Had he left them in the bathroom? He jumped up and started to run out of the classroom.
“Buddy!” said Ms. Maple. “Where are you going?”
“I forgot my glasses!”
When Buddy got to the bathroom, though, his glasses weren’t there. They weren’t on the ledge of the sink where he’d set them down. Or on the floor underneath. He searched the whole bathroom. But he couldn’t find them. Though, looking was hard. Because he couldn’t see very well. Everything was completely blurry.
“Oh no,” wailed Buddy.
He needed to find his glasses. But how in the world could he even look for them if he didn’t have his glasses?
CHAPTER THREE
Cotton-Candy Blob
Buddy was used to losing things. He lost things all the time. In fact, he was famous for it. But he’d never lost his glasses before. Losing his glasses was like losing a part of his body. A part he needed.
As Buddy left the bathroom, he peered down the hallway. It looked completely blurry. Had it been blurry earlier? When he’d walked back to class? Why hadn’t he noticed? Maybe because he’d still been trying to think of something to say to Cosmo. Something biting. So he’d been focusing inside, not out.
Now, Buddy’s stomach was churning. He couldn’t do school stuff without his glasses. If Ms. Maple wrote on her pad, he wouldn’t be able to see it. Or what if Bea tried to friend-punch him again? How would he even know to block her?
Even at home, Buddy never took off his glasses. Only when he went to sleep. But if he had to get up in the middle of the night, he always put them back on. One time, he’d forgotten. And he’d leaned down to pet his cat, Sunshine. Only it wasn’t Sunshine. It was Daddo’s fuzzy brown slippers that were the same color. Whoa! That was embarrassing! Buddy had never told anyone at all he’d done that. Not even his dads.
What if he did something embarrassing like that now? In school? In front of everybody?
“BUDDY!”
Buddy jumped. It was Bea. He could see her, all right. She looked a little fuzzy, but there she was.
“I volunteered to check on you,” she said. “Did you find your glasses?”
“No,” Buddy said miserably.
“So are you blind?” said Bea.
“I’m not blind,” said Buddy. “I just can’t see.”
“That means you’re blind,” said Bea.
“No, it doesn’t. It’s different. I can see, but not well. I’m nearsighted.”
“So you can’t see near?”
“The opposite,” said Buddy. “I can’t see far.”
“Can you see me?” asked Bea.
“Of course,” said Buddy. Though Bea looked blurry, a big, blurry blob of too-pink cotton candy.
She held her thumb close to Buddy’s face. “How many fingers am I holding up?” she said.
Buddy swatted at her hand. “Get away!”
She stuck her thumb right back. “How many?” she demanded.
“One,” said Buddy.
“So you can see,” said Bea. She bounced her thumb up and down. Like a bobbing thumbs-up. “So what do you even need those glasses for?”
“Because I—”
“Can you see the door there?”
“Yeah.”
“The wall?”
“Yeah.”
“So, no problem. You won’t run into them. You don’t even need glasses! See?”
“I don’t see,” said Buddy. “That’s the problem!” Buddy clapped his hand to his forehead. This was terrible. “I wonder if Cosmo found them,” he said.
“Cosmo?” said Bea.
“He was in the bathroom,” said Buddy. “Making fun of me. You know, being Cosmo. That’s probably why I forgot my glasses. Everything blurred over when I talked to him. I thought it was because of Cosmo. But it was my glasses.”
“Cosmo!” cried Bea. “Obviously! He took them!”
Bea grabbed Buddy by the sleeve. She pulled him down the hall.
“Let go!” said Buddy.
“I’m helping you!” said Bea.
“You’re dragging me!”
“Because you can’t see! You might run into something!”
“I won’t!”
Bea loosened her grasp. But she didn’t let go completely. “We’ve got to get your glasses from Cosmo,” she said. “Before he breaks them!”
