She sat down at the lunch table with a tray of roast beef, corn, and pinkish-orange jello. She couldn't tell what flavor it was supposed to be, and she figured it was better not to ask.
On her left, a procession of boys in baggy jeans and white sneakers approached. "Look at Porky," they jeered. "Look at that big old house of meat on her plate. I bet I know where all that junk goes." They laughed as one boy pointed below his waist. Then they walked by her, another boy tugging her hair as they passed.
For the third day in a row, Polly skippd lunch. She pushed her tray aside and pulled out the homework assignment due tomorrow. As she added decimals and divided fractions, she held back her tears.
Why oh why did she have to come to this new school?
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