CHAPTER 1
“Good morning!” said our teacher Jassi.
In Hindi, Jassi means “a person who sits.”
This is funny because Jassi never sits. She floats around the room like a butterfly.
Her last name takes too long to say. So she lets us call her by her first name.
Jassi.
“Tomorrow we will start our end of the year project,” she said. “I think you’ll have lots of fun with it.”
As soon as she said “project” the class groaned.
But I thought Jassi’s projects were mostly pretty cool. So I listened.
I tried not to watch Jerry bounce up and down in his chair. And I ignored Ian and Elliott’s burping contest.
“The project is called My Family,” Jassi said.“We’ll learn about each other’s families. What makes them different. What makes them the same…”
Jerry fell off his chair. As usual. Then he sat back up.
Jassi continued as if she hadn’t noticed.
She’s great at not making anyone feel silly.
“I want you to gather as much information about your family as you can,” she said. “Keep in mind… Families can be the people you were born to. The people you live with. Or the people who feel like family in your heart. At the end, you’ll present your family in a report.”
“That will be easy,” said Penny. She was twirling her braids like jump ropes.
Penny came from a big family. “At Thanksgiving,” she said. “My family rents extra tables. We take up two whole rooms!”
I slunk down in my seat.
This time Jassi’s project would not be fun. Or easy.
I stole a look at my best friend Cooper. I could tell she didn’t think so either.
Cooper is the tallest girl in our class. Today she sprayed her spiky hair metallic gold. (Her natural color is blonde.) Cooper likes to change her hair color every few days.
Her full name is Calliope Claire Cooper. But she just likes to be called Cooper.
Me? I’m Benjamin Zither. But I go by Ben. I’m almost 10. The shortest boy in the class.
And my hair’s regular brown.
Jassi kept talking and moving around the room.
“I don’t want just a list of your relatives,” she said. “Find out interesting things about them. You can draw pictures too.” She held up a cartoon family making a human pyramid.
Cooper and I looked at each other. And rolled our eyes.
She was probably thinking about her father. He moved out last year when her parents got divorced. Now Cooper sees him every other weekend. And has dinner with him once a week. But that isn’t enough for her. She misses him.
At least she knows who her dad is…
The kids in my class started shouting things about their moms and uncles and grandparents. But I only paid attention to the dad things.
“My dad’s an architect. My dad’s a firefighter. My dad’s a nurse…”
“Yes those are interesting examples,” said Jassi. “But there are smaller things that are important too. For example, my mother makes the best sweet carrot pudding. Sprinkled with almonds and rose petals.”
Fine. I’ll say my mom bakes the best chocolate cake. With marshmallow frosting.
I’ll say she’s a doctor. And likes to play Scrabble…
But what could I write about my dad?
I didn’t know anything about him.
Not even his name…
