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red quickly.

"Have you been going to this school all your life?" I asked. Philip nodded. As we went along, I noticed many girls and boys nod and say hello to Philip. He was obviously very popular.

"My sister and I even attended the kindergarten associated with it." He leaned toward me. "My parents and my grandmother make sizable contributions to the school," he added, but he didn't sound arrogant about it. It was just a statement of fact.

"Oh." Everyone around me seemed so sophisticated and so wealthy. Jimmy had been right. We were like fish out of water. My daddy only worked here, and what would I wear tomorrow? What would Jimmy wear? If we stood out like sore thumbs now, what would happen tomorrow?

"We both better get a move on before we're thrown to Mrs. Turnkey," he said and smiled. "Think about going for a ride with me tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded. When I looked back, I saw Clara Sue and her friends walking slowly behind us. Clara Sue looked very unhappy about the attention her brother was giving me. Maybe he was sincere. He was so handsome and I felt like doing something to annoy her.

"I'll think about it," I said loud enough for the girls to hear.

"Great?' He squeezed my arm gently and walked off, turning once to smile back. I returned a smile, making sure Clara Sue could see, and then I entered the music suite just as the bell beginning the class rang.

My music teacher, Mr. Moore, was a rosy-faced man with dimples in his cheeks and hair as curly as Harpo Marx's. He had the sweetest disposition of any of my teachers I had met so far, and when he smiled, it was a smile full of warmth and sincerity. I saw that shy students shed their bashfulness when he coaxed them and willingly stood up to sing a few notes solo. He walked around the classroom with his tuning harmonica teaching us the scales, explaining notes, making music more interesting than even I imagined it could be. When he got to me, he paused and twitched his nose like a squirrel. His hazel brown eyes brightened.

"And now for a new voice," he said. "Dawn, can you sing Do re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do? give you a start," he began, bringing his harmonica to his lips, but I started before he had a chance to toot. His eyes widened and his bushy reddish-brown eyebrows lifted. "Well, now, a discovery. That's the best rendition of the scales cold I have heard in years," he said. "Wasn't that perfect, boys and girls?" he asked the class. When I looked around, I saw a sea of faces full of envy. Louise was especially jealous of the compliment Mr. Moore had given me. Her face was lime. "I think we might have found our solo singer for our next concert," Mr. Moore mused aloud, squeezing his round chin between his right forefinger and thumb as he looked at me and nodded. "Have you been in chorus before, Dawn?"

"Yes, sir."

"And do you play an instrument of any kind?" he inquired.

"I have been teaching myself the guitar."

"Teaching yourself?" He looked around the classroom. "Now, that's motivation, boys and girls. Well, we're going to have to see how far along you've come. If you're very good, you can put me out of a job," he said.

"I'm not very good, sir," I said.

He laughed, his cheeks trembling with his chuckles.

"There's something refreshing," he said, speaking to the rest of the class, "modesty. Ever wonder what that was, boys and girls?" He laughed at his own joke and went on with the day's lesson. When the bell ending the period rang, he asked me to remain a moment.

"Bring your guitar in with you tomorrow, Dawn. I'd like to hear you play," he said, his face serious and determined.

"I don't have a very good guitar, sir. It's second-hand and?"

"Now, now. Don't you be ashamed of it, and don't let any of the students here make you feel that way. I have an idea that it's a lot better than you think anyway. Besides, I can supply you with a very good guitar when the time comes."

"Thank you, sir," I said. He sat back in his seat and contemplated me a moment.

"I know the students are supposed to call their teachers sir and ma'am," he said. "But when we're working alone, could you manage to call me Mr. Moore?"

I smiled.

"I'll try."

"Good. I'm glad you're here, Dawn. Welcome to Emerson Peabody. Now you better hurry of to your next class."

"Thank you, Mr. Moore," I said and he smiled.

I started for my next class, but stopped when I saw Louise waiting for me.

"Hi," I said, seeing she wanted to be friends again. But that wasn't her first concern.

"I saw Philip Cutler sitting with you at lunch," she said, unable to hide the note of jealousy. "You'd better be careful. He's got a bad reputation with girls," she said, but her voice was still filled with envy.

"A bad reputation? He seems very nice. A lot different from his sister," I said pointedly. "What do they say that's so bad?"