Tuesday 7 February 2017

Chapter 3
The next day, during lunch, Tria was fiddling with a toothpick after eating her tuna sandwich. Tria loved tuna. (It was the only canned fish she liked) Chloe pretended to throw up when she smelled it and Lily, Tria’s kind of friend, thought it looked like half digested tree bark.
When Tria poked her finger, she just threw the toothpick out. “What are you doing?” Chloe asked her when Tria sat back down. “I just threw out that annoying toothpick…” Tria said, looking over to the trash can.
Then, she noticed that Chloe wasn’t reading the normal book she would read: Math textbooks or thesauruses; she was reading a mystery book. It was called The Emerald cup. “What got you into reading mystery books?” Tria asked.
“Oh, well Garry and Cam recommended it to me,” Chloe said admiring the cover of the book. Garry and Cam are two nice brothers that sometimes hung out with Chloe and Tria. When they were little, they used to play prison and Kerbla together.
“I thought you weren’t into fiction stuff,” Tria said. “Well,” Chloe started and then made hand gestures when she said “Mystery books are so mysterious. They have cliffhangers that really keep you on the edge. Anyway, it’s interesting to find out the solutions to the mystery and Cam and Garry always have good suggestions.”
Tria would have to agree. When school was over, she didn’t have to think twice about going to the All3way. As soon as she got to the Alley where it was, she could hear a lot more talking than she normally would.
The cafe was full and the only table she could it at that wasn’t crowded in the smelly corner was a spot beside Pal. Pal invited her to sit down and she took out a book that Garry had lent to her. It was called A Wish For Glass. Cam said it was great, and they always had good opinions about books and games.
Before Tria could even read the first page, Pal was blabbing at her. “So, why do you read books like this? A wish of glass? Wouldn’t it be much better to read a book like some Pac-Man history or something?”
“Well, a friend recommended this to me so-” Tria started.
“Hmm, that’s odd. I would never think to read a book that looks like that!” Pal said. “Well,” Tria said. “You can’t judge a book by its cover. Just because it looks bad on the front, doesn’t mean that the book will be bad too.” Tria felt happy to say this. She was partly quoting her 2nd-grade teacher. How could she remember that and not other more important things in school?
“Hmm,” Pal said as though he was deep in thought. “Well, I guess I’d have to think about that but I prefer to tell stories.” “Stories like what?” Tria asked. Pal seemed happy that she asked. It was as if he was waiting for the question. “Stories about me,” Pal said happily. “Made up stories about me. This seemed quite as though Pal was a bit stuck up, but Tria was still intrigued.
“Like what stories?” Tria asked. Tepo came around to take their orders. Tria ordered a hot chocolate like she had before, but Pal argued that the chicken he had at lunch really filled him up. He was eager to tell his story.
“I'll tell you one of my stories,” Pal said. “Once there was a very awesome man, who was the captain of a ship. The sea was rough and waves were crashing high all around that man’s ship. That man was me.” Pal paused to think for a moment. He must think of a good story for this girl. He must!
It turned out to be an amazing story. Tria loved it and that is why Pal said that he was going to write down a story every day. A quick story about himself.
Just when Tria was about to open back up her own book, her cell phone rang. Oh no! Tria wasn't keeping track of the time, and it was already supper. Tria lifted up her phone and saw that her mother was calling her. Before she could have second thoughts about it, she answered.
“Hey Mom,” Tria said calmly.
“Tria?” Her Mother said. “You really have to come home. It’s late and Dad’s making your favorite: Tuna Fusilli Bucati for supper.”
“Okay, got it, Mom!” Tria said and smiled to Pal as she left. Tepo called to say goodbye to her when she left now like he does to all his other regular customers.

Tria’s little sister Ellie was already sitting and the table when Tria got home. Her Mother Alice was looking upset and her Father Jordan kept on sniffing the Fusilli Bucati before putting it on a plate. “Sorry, I’m late!” Tria said, eyeing the delicious noodles in front of her.

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