Allergic to Girls, School, and Other Scary Things (Alvin Ho Series, Book 1)
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ALVIN HO IS an Asian American second grader who is afraid of everything--elevators, tunnels, girls, and, most of all, school. He's so afraid of school that, while he's there, he never, ever, says a word. But at home he's a very loud superhero named Firecracker Man, a brother to Calvin and Anibelly, and a gentleman-in-training, so he can be just like his dad.
From the author of the ALA Notable Ruby Lu series comes a funny and touching chapter book--perfect for both beginning and reluctant readers-- that introduces a truly unforgettable character.
“Maybe I am and maybe I’m not,” I said. “No one walks this way except to go to piano lessons,” said Jules. “I see ’em coming and I see ’em going. Mostly they come. Only the lucky few ever go.” “What do you mean?” “I don’t really know,” said Jules. “There are only rumors.” “What rumors?” Jules looked down the street both ways, then whispered, “You know the witch with the yummy house who fattened the kids?” I nodded. I sure hated that witch who fed Hansel and Gretel to fatten them and then
Flea gave him The Eye. Then Eli took his turn. And Miss P said he did a fine job. But when he got back to his seat, he got The Eye too. Next Scooter got his turn. And Miss P said he was great. Normally, he is not great in math, numbers are a mystery to him. He got The Eye. Then before I knew it, math class was over. In fact, school was over. And I never got my turn! Only the apes of math got turns. It was not fair! I was as mad as a salmon swimming upstream. And so was Flea. Her eye was
okay. A good word from my dad changes everything. Besides, if I missed the bus, my dad might have a few other words for me. So I dashed out of the house and caught up with Calvin just as the bus was pulling up to the end of our driveway. “Bye, Alvin!” cried Anibelly. “Bye, Calvin!” “Bye, Anibelly!” We waved and climbed on. The wheels on the bus went round and round. I was okay. I clutched my PDK and sat next to Calvin in the back of the bus where all the fourth graders sit. The big kids
waited. A car rolled by. I leaned over to see what was in the gutter. Nothing. Then I looked up to see if there might be any giant meteorites heading for Flea. None. So finally, I blurted, “I’m sorry that it’s a weird book and that you’re a weird girl.” POW! I think it was an uppercut. I’d seen it on Saturday-afternoon boxing with my pohpoh. An uppercut is when you curl your arm like you’re picking up a pail of rocks and you send your fist into your opponent’s jaw from the bottom up. I
the death for sure. And it is hard to say how scary that would have been. if flea were a boy, everything would be different. First, she wouldn’t have ignored me all morning. Second, things would have improved between us on account of boys have more respect for one another after a good pounding. But Flea is not a boy. She is a girl. And girls are weird even if they wear a cool eye patch, drag a cool peg leg and know how to throw a mean uppercut. I was thinking about all this when . . .