So, I did not turn in my vocabulary sentences. Everyone else did, but I didn't, because I got the directions a hundred percent wrong.
We were supposed to use the word in a sentence. We were supposed to use the word in a sentence. Not a thousand sentences, the way I did. And most of my sentences didn't even use the words!
I almost turned the homework in before I realized my mistake, but luckily Mr. Savage collected all the papers alphabetically (like our seating) and started with the fourth-graders before moving on to the fifth-graders. There are only eight fourth-graders, and they usually have different homework assignments, but we all have the same vocabulary words. I've never been in a class with two grades in it, but Pepperwood has a bunch of them.
Meg Anderson was first, so I had time to look over Denny's shoulder to check out what he'd written, and I noticed that, first of all, he'd numbered all his sentences, and, second of all, each sentence was just that, one sentence, and third, the vocabulary words were underlined, and fourth, he had only used one sheet of paper instead of four.
I bet even the teachers at Sarah Borne wouldn't have accepted my homework. They would have laughed and laughed and marked it with a big red check-minus. (Winter says the teachers can't give out grades there.)
By the time Mr. Savage got to me, I had already crumpled up my four vocabulary pages and shoved them deep into my desk. I told him I'd left my paper at home, and he said, "Okay, just bring it next time, then." After he walked away, a drop of sweat slithered its way down the back of my neck, and I was glad that at least some parts of my hair were long enough to hide it.
When recess started, I snuck over to the trash can by the door and threw my sentences away. Denny Libra glared at me the whole time and didn't stop until I left the room.
I was so upset, I could only think of one word to describe how I felt.
Vexation.
