How to Make S’mores

    A week later, Ms. Wehrle calls me to her desk. “Raniya, 

    I don’t have your permission slip for Outdoor Ed.”

    “Yes, ma—I’m not going.” I stop in time before saying “madam,” like I called my teachers THERE. It slipped out of my mouth during the first week and everyone giggled. 

    “Why not?” Ms. Wehrle frowns.

    “My parents said I can’t go,” I say.

    “Oh. If it’s a matter of the cost, I’m sure—”

    “No, thank you,” I interrupt. My face grows warm, and I look up to see if anyone is listening. THERE Abbu had a job at an office where he wore fancy suits; HERE he goes to work in jeans at a shop. But Abbu says we still have plenty of money.

    “Well then, may I ask why?”

    “Oh, um, I don’t know,” I mumble. A boy named Tony with dark hair is definitely listening from his desk.

    “Can I call your parents to discuss?” Ms. Wehrle asks.

    “Yes. May I go back to my seat?”

    “Of course.” Ms. Wehrle frowns again. 

    As I walk past, Tony shrugs at me.

    I wake up when the bus stops. I look down and something is missing. My lunch bag! I turn around and see Tony in the seat behind me. He’s holding my lunch and grinning.

    My heart sinks into my stomach. I’ve seen bullies on TV, stealing lunches and shoving kids into lockers. I don’t know what to do, so I turn back around and say nothing.

    “Don’t you want this?” Tony asks, touching my arm. “I mean, what’s left?” he adds. “I tried half your sandwich.”

    I can’t help turning around and staring at him. He really ate my lunch?

    “Just kidding. Here. It fell on the floor while you were snoring.” He holds out the bag.

    “Did I snore?” My face grows warm.

    “Kidding. It’s so loud on this bus I wouldn’t know if you were.”

    I don’t have an answer, so I grab my lunch bag and turn around.

    We file off the bus, and it’s much colder than it was at home. Trees are everywhere. As we start our hour-long hike, I look at the ground, trying to keep mud from getting on my white tennis shoes. A pair of red sneakers is staying near mine. It’s Tony.

    “I was in ESL for a while too,” he says. “I’m from El Salvador. Where are you from?”

    I learn what s’mores are after dinner. We go outside to a big fire and put big fluffy squares called marshmallows on long sticks to cook. They catch fire and we blow them out, and they turn black on the outside and gooey on the inside. Then we make a sandwich with them on sweet crackers and chocolate.

    Eva is sitting next to me and also talking to another girl named Laurie. Tony and his blond friend come over to us with a huge stack of s’mores.

    “We’re making the biggest s’mores tower ever!” Tony says.

    “That’s not very big.” Eva looks unconvinced.

    “That’s why we need yours,” Tony says.

    Eva starts to hand him the squares she just finished assembling. Midway, she stops and shoves them in her mouth. She laughs as the marshmallow oozes through the sides.

    We all tear into the s’mores tower, making it topple over and catching the pieces before they fall to the ground. My fingers are covered in sticky marshmallow goo, but it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted in America.

    That night, I climb onto the top bunk and get into my sleeping bag as Eva settles into hers. 

You've just read “How to Make S’mores.” Now it’s time to do this activity.

What to do: Imagine that you’re Raniya. You’re writing an essay about the class trip. Make inferences to complete each sentence below. For clues, go back and look at the story.

Tip: An inference is something that is not stated but can be figured out from clues in the text.