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Bradley Chalkers sat at his desk in the back of the room—last seat, last row. No one sat at the desk next to him or at the one in front of him. He was an island.
If he could have, he would have sat in the closet. Then he could shut the door so he wouldn't have to listen to Mrs. Ebbel. He didn't think she'd mind. She'd probably like it better that way too. So would the rest of the class. All in all, he thought everyone would be much happier if he sat in the closet, but, unfortunately, his desk didn't fit.
"Class," said Mrs. Ebbel. "I would like you all to meet Jeff Fishkin. Jeff has just moved here from Washington, D.C., which, as you know, is our nation's capital."
Bradley looked up at the new kid who was standing at the front of the room next to Mrs. Ebbel.
"Why don't you tell the class a little bit about yourself, Jeff," urged Mrs. Ebbel.
The new kid shrugged.
"There's no reason to be shy," said Mrs. Ebbel.
The new kid mumbled something, but Bradley couldn't hear what it was.
"Have you ever been to the White House, Jeff?" Mrs. Ebbel asked. "I'm sure the class would be very interested to hear about that."