Lara Bergen: Sophie the Hero

They both fell— thud! The ball flew past them and rolled away.

Grace jumped up and glared at Sophie. “I could have caught that!” she said.

“Are you kidding? That ball was headed straight for your head!” Sophie said.

Then Sophie heard the words that filled her with tingles. It was Mr. Hurley hollering, “Good job, Sophie! Way to go!”

“See?” she said to Grace. Even Mr. Hurley could see she was a hero!

Then she realized something. Mr. Hurley was hollering to Sophie A., not her.

Sophie A. had kicked the ball … and scored another run.

“Sorry, Grace,” Sophie mumbled as she trudged back to center field.

“What does that big ‘H’ on your shirt stand for, anyway? Horrible?” Toby groaned from the pitcher’s mound.

Grrr! Sophie glared. She was too mad to stick her tongue out. “No, it’s for ‘hero,’” she said under her breath.

Sophie would show him. She had to save someone soon!

But she was also kind of ready for the inning to end.

Then suddenly her eyes popped wide open. There was something buzzing around second base — and Dean’s head — right in front of her!

What if it was a bee?

What if Dean was allergic?

What if it stung him and he swelled up like Sophie’s cousin Will did once? Sophie’s Aunt Jan had called the ambulance and everything!

But even if Dean was not allergic, nobody liked to get stung. One time a bee stung the bottom of Sophie’s foot and she couldn’t walk on it for a week.

Sophie had to get rid of that bee so she could be Dean’s hero!

For one second, Sophie worried that the bee might sting her. But she knew that was not how a hero’s mind worked. So she ran up to Dean and started whacking.

She meant to whack the bee, of course. But Dean’s head got in the way.

“Ow! Stop! Help! My hair! What are you doing?” Dean cried.

“It’s a bee! It’s a bee!” yelled Sophie. “Oh, wait …” She looked at the bug more closely. “Never mind. It’s just a fly.”

Then she saw Dean’s hair. It still looked like a toothbrush, but now it looked like a toothbrush that a dog had chewed on. Sophie tried not to laugh … but everyone else did.

“Back to your positions!” Mr. Hurley hollered.

“Uh, sorry, Dean,” Sophie said. She was careful not to look at him. And then, at last, it was their team’s turn to kick.

Sophie, of course, was in the middle of the lineup. But for once, she didn’t mind. It gave her time to look out for more danger.

Soon the bases were loaded and Toby was up. Sydney was on third base and ready to run.

Then Sophie noticed something. Sydney’s sneaker was untied. She could trip and break her leg! It was Sophie the Hero time!

Sophie dashed out of the dugout as Kate pitched the ball to Toby. She bent down and grabbed Sydney’s shoe just as Toby kicked the ball. Then she started to tie Sydney’s laces as Sydney began to run.

The next thing Sophie knew, Sydney was falling down — on top of her. Then came the runners from second — oof! — and first— ugh!

Sophie crawled out of the pile just as Archie tagged them all out.

Then Mr. Hurley blew his whistle. “Game over!” he hollered.

Sophie wasn’t feeling much like a hero after gym.

Art class came next. She wasn’t sure how to be a hero there, exactly. But a true hero could be a hero anywhere, she guessed.

She also had a papier-mâché animal to finish. The class had molded them the week before. Now it was time to paint them.

“What color would you like, Sophie?” Ms. Bart, the art teacher, asked her.

Sophie really liked Ms. Bart. She probably liked her best of all her teachers. (And not just because Ms. Bart still had Sophie’s picture of a snow princess from the year before hanging in her classroom.)

Sophie also liked Ms. Bart because she was fun to look at. She was short and had long, long hair. She always wore it in a braid that went way past her bottom. And it was splattered with paint. Just like her clothes. And shoes. And skin.

The year before, Sophie had learned about camouflage. That was what Ms. Bart always made her think of. Sophie wondered: If Ms. Bart stood very still in her art room, would she blend in?

Sophie smiled at Ms. Bart. “I’ll take red, please,” Sophie told her.

“Red, huh? Okay!” Ms. Bart smiled at her. “Not the usual color for an alligator. But I like the way you think!”

Sophie looked down at her papier-mâché animal. “It’s a fox,” she said.

Ms. Bart handed her the red paint. “Oh … so it is!” she said.

Next Kate took some gray paint.

“Is that a mouse?” the teacher asked her.

Kate held it up. “It was,” she said. “But I don’t know.” She touched its extra-pointy nose. “I think I’m going to make it the world’s smallest elephant, instead.”

Ms. Bart laughed and moved down the table, giving out more paint. Then she stopped next to Archie and Toby. They were snarling and growling while their papier-mâché creatures battled.

Archie raised his animal and banged it down on Toby’s animal’s head. “T. rex always beats crocodile,” he said.

“T. rex?” Ms. Bart repeated. “Oh, Archie. I can’t believe it! I thought I told you to make something else, just this once. You’ve drawn and painted and sculpted nothing but dinosaurs for three years.”

Archie shrugged. “It could be a dog, I guess,” he said.

“Never mind,” Ms. Bart said. “If dinosaurs inspire you, it’s fine, I suppose. Okay, class. Paint away!” she announced.

Mindy raised her hand.

“Excuse me, Ms. Bart,” she said, “but I’m not happy with this blue you gave me.”

“Oh, no?” said the art teacher.

“No,” Mindy said. She held up the cup of paint and wrinkled her nose as if it smelled bad. “This is much too ordinary. I need something more brilliant for my peacock.”

“Me too!” Lily added.

Ms. Bart looked surprised. So did the rest of the class. They weren’t surprised that Lily copied Mindy. She always did that. But each of them was supposed to make an animal that was different from anyone else’s. Everyone knew that. It was the only rule Ms. Bart had given them … mostly because of Lily.

“Did you make a peacock, too?” Kate asked Lily.

“Uh …” Lily bit her lip. “No … I mean, not really.”

Ms. Bart walked up beside her. “Do you mean you made a pea hen? A female? Instead of a male peacock?” she asked.

Lily nodded quickly.

“Wonderful!” said Ms. Bart. “Then let me get you some brown paint. That’s usually the color of a peahen. And they don’t have that same fancy tail, so maybe we should get rid of that?”

Lily slumped in her seat. “Fine,” she said.

Sophie tried not to giggle.

Ms. Bart dragged a stool to a wall of shelves across the art room. Then she began to climb.

“I’m pretty sure I have the perfect blue up here somewhere,” she said.

She reached for the top shelf and picked through some jars and boxes.

“Ooh! Steady!” she suddenly cried.

That was when Sophie looked up and saw the stool wobble. Not a lot. But enough.

Uh-oh!

Ms. Bart could fall … unless Sophie the Hero saved her!

Sophie handed her paintbrush to Kate. “Hold this!” she told her sidekick. “Huh?” said Kate.