Boss of Lunch by Barbara Park Page B

May butted her big head in.
    “It's
good
for you, too, Junie Jones,” she said. “All school lunches have to be delicious and nutritious. It's a law.”
    “So?” I said.
    “So lunches brought from home can be any old thing,” she said back.
    I did a huffy breath at her.
    Then I turned my back. And I hid my sandwich very secret. And I peeked inside the bread.
    I stared and stared for a real long time. ’Cause I didn't actually recognize the meat, that's why.
    Finally, I ate it anyway.
    It was tasty … whatever it was.

I was the first one done with my lunch.
    That's because eating hoagies takes forever, of course.
    I put my lunch box away and looked at Herb's plate.
    He had three more foods to go.
    First, he had carrot sticks. Also, he had applesauce and a cookie.
    I leaned in closer.
    “Mmm. I think that's a sugar cookie, Herbert,” I said. “Sugar cookies are my favorites.”
    Herb nodded. “Me too,” he said. “I like sugar cookies, too.”
    I touched his cookie with my finger.
    “Yes-sir-ee-bob. That's a sugar cookie all right, Herb,” I said. “I didn't get a cookie at all today. My mother packed me a fruit bar instead.”
    “Oh,” said Herb. “Well, fruit bars are good, too.”
    I tapped my fingers on the table. ’Cause Herb didn't even get my hint.
    “Yes, Herbert. I
know
fruit bars are good,” I said. “But I really wanted a cookie today. And so I wish that you would just share that thing with me, and that's all.”
    Herb looked at me and shrugged. “Why didn't you just say so?” he said.
    Then he broke his cookie in two. And he handed me half.
    I gushed real happy. “Oh! Thank you, Herb! Thank you! Thank you!” I said.
    After that, I stuffed the cookie right into my mouth. And I drank a sip of Herb's milk.

    “Yum! That tasted just like the cookies that Mrs. Gutzman used to bring to afternoon kindergarten,” I said.
    I smiled at the thought of that woman.
    “Gladys Gutzman was our snack lady last year,” I explained to Herb. “She used to bring us cookies and milk every week.”
    I made my voice kind of secret.
    “Only guess what, Herbert. Sometimes Mrs. Gutzman gave me
two
cookies instead of one,” I said. “’Cause I was her favorite person in Room Nine, I think.”
    José heard what I said. “Hey! That must mean that I was her favorite in Room
Eight
!” he said. “Because sometimes Mrs. Gutzman gave
me
an extra one, too.”
    After that, me and José did a high five.
    ’Cause
both
of us were favorites, apparently!
    “That woman was a gem, I tell you,” I said.
    “What do you mean she
was
a gem, Junie B.?” said José. “She still
is
a gem. Mrs. Gutzman still works here, you know.”
    “What?” I said very surprised.
    “Sure, she does,” said Herb. “I met Mrs. Gutzman this year already. She works right there in the kitchen.”
    I couldn't believe my ears.
    “Really?” I said. “Really? Really? Really? Because if Mrs. Gutzman still works at our school, how come she hasn't brought us milk and cookies this year?”
    Herb shrugged. “I don't know,” he said. “But she still works here, all right. In fact, we saw her just now when we were getting our hoagies.”
    I put my hand over my mouth. ’Causethat news was too good to be true!
    José laughed. “If you don't believe us, go see for yourself,” he said.
    “I
will
, José! I
will
go see for myself!” I said real joyful.
    Then I jumped right out of my seat.
    And I zoomed into the kitchen.
    And I hollered and hollered for Mrs. Gutzman!

“Mrs. Gutzman! Mrs. Gladys Gutzman! Where are you?” I hollered. “It's me! It's me! It's Junie B. Jones!”
    I looked all around me. There was a long counter with children pushing trays.
    “Did anyone see Mrs. Gutzman?” I asked the children. “Does anyone know her? My friends said she is right here in this kitchen. But I don't even see her.”
    I hollered her name even louder.
    “MRS. GUTZMAN! MRS. GLADYS GUTZMAN!”
    Then, all of a sudden, a lady came hurrying around