Banana Pants! Read online




  For anyone who’s ever had to say sorry

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Wunsch, Emma, author. | Von Innerebner, Jessika, illustrator.

  Title: Banana pants! / Emma Wunsch; illustrated by Jessika von Innerebner.

  Description: New York: Amulet Books, 2019. | Series: Miranda and Maude ; volume 2 | Summary: Fed-up with standardized testing, Miranda and Maude’s teacher decides to put on a school play, inspiring the girls to fight for other positive changes—and leading to their first fight.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018024296 (print) | LCCN 2018030104 (ebook) | ISBN 9781683354772 (All e-books) | ISBN 9781419731808 (hardcover pob)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Schools—Fiction. | Theater—Fiction. | Princesses—Fiction. | Social action—Fiction. | Friendship—Fiction. Classification: LCC PZ7.1.W97 (ebook) | LCC PZ7.1.W97 Ban 2019 (print) | DDC [E]—dc23

  Text copyright © 2019 Emma Wunsch

  Illustrations copyright © 2019 Jessika von Innerebner

  Book design by Siobhán Gallagher

  Published in 2019 by Amulet Books, an imprint of ABRAMS. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.

  Amulet Books are available at special discounts when purchased in quantity for premiums and promotions as well as fundraising or educational use. Special editions can also be created to specification. For details, contact [email protected] or the address below.

  Amulet Books® is a registered trademark of Harry N. Abrams, Inc.

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  195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007

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  Book One: The Princess and the Absolutely Not a Princess

  Book Two: Banana Pants!

  Book Three: Girls Versus Boys

  1

  EXTRA-EXTRA EARLY MONDAY MORNING

  One Monday morning, Princess Miranda Rose Lapointsetta went into her classroom, 3B, at Mountain River Valley Elementary extra-extra early. She was there for extra-extra help from her favorite teacher, Miss Kinde.

  Before this year, Miranda had never been to school. She was a princess who lived in a castle and had a very old tutor who didn’t teach her much. When Madame Cornelia retired, Miranda’s parents (Queen Mom and King Dad, or QM and KD for short) made her go to school. At first, school was terrible. It smelled like hard-boiled eggs, everything was loud and confusing, and she always had a headache. Worst of all, she had no friends.

  But then a bunch of things happened, and Miranda became best friends with Maude Brandywine Mayhew Kaye, who was absolutely not a princess. Once Miranda had a friend and learned she needed glasses, she began to enjoy school. Things she once hated, like music class (which was very loud), lunch (which was very smelly), and PE (which was a little bit dangerous) were now practically okay, because everything was better when you had a friend to agree with you about how loud, smelly, and dangerous things were.

  But right now, Miranda’s classroom was not loud or smelly or dangerous. 3B was quiet, because she was the only student there, and it smelled like lavender, because that was what Miranda’s beloved teacher, Miss Kinde, smelled like. Miss Kinde was just like her name. Kind! Wonderful! Amazing! She was always interested in what Miranda had to say and, best of all, even though she often reminded Miranda and Maude to stop talking to each other, she never switched their seats!

  The only bad thing about Miss Kinde’s class, Miranda thought that early Monday morning, isn’t about Miss Kinde at all. It was about a test. A famously awful test called the Mandatory National Reading and Writing and Math Exam, which every student had to take at the end of the school year. Since the beginning of the year (which wasn’t that long ago), Miss Kinde had given 3B many, many practice exams. Because Miranda had never taken the exam before, and since Principal Fish thought it was extremely important, she often had to spend her extra-extra help time taking practice tests.

  “I’m sorry to give you another exam,” Miss Kinde said sadly, handing Miranda a thick booklet.

  “It’s not your fault,” Miranda said unhappily. Not only were the practice exams long, they were also confusing and boring. The exams caused fear and misery in both students and teachers alike. They took up time from the things the students and teachers really wanted to do.

  Sighing, Miranda looked at the clock, grabbed a pencil from Maude’s desk, and waited for Miss Kinde to tell her to begin.

  But before Miss Kinde could say “begin,” Maude Brandywine Mayhew Kaye roller-skated into the classroom yelling, “HELP!”

  2

  MAUDE BRANDYWINE MAYHEW KAYE TRULY NEEDS HELP

  Miss Kinde and Miranda stood up. Did Maude need help stopping? But Maude came to an easy stop, plunked down on Miranda’s desk, and took off her skates.

  “What are you doing here?” Miranda asked. She was shocked to see her best friend, who often slept through her alarm clock (a crowing rooster named General Cockatoo) and always arrived almost-late to school.

  “I saw the sunrise over Mount Coffee!” Maude said excitedly.

  “That’s wonderful,” Miss Kinde said. “And it’s wonderful to see you, Maude, but you do remember rules forty-six and fifty-eight?”

  Rule forty-six in the Official Rules of Mountain River Valley Elementary said that students were not allowed in school until 7:42 a.m. unless they were getting help. Rule fifty-eight said that wheeled shoes were forbidden in school.

  “I know all the rules,” Maude said. “And I truly need help!”

  Miss Kinde smiled at Maude, who was wearing paint-splattered pants, a wrinkled T-shirt that said SAVE THE HUMPHEAD WRASSE, and a pair of glasses that she loved but didn’t need.

  “I don’t think you need help,” Miss Kinde said patiently. “You did tremendously well on Friday’s practice exam.”

  “Did I beat Hillary?” Maude asked. She moved her glasses onto the top of her head.

  Hillary was Hillary Greenlight-Miller, Maude’s archenemy and the only person in 3B (or maybe the world) who did not dread practice exams.

  Miss Kinde did not answer Maude’s question.

  “Never mind,” Maude said. “It’s not important! What’s important are these!” She took a stack of letters out of her messenger bag. “Everyone keeps saying no!” Maude cried. “I write letter after letter demanding change and nothing ever happens.”

  “What kind of change?” Miss Kinde asked gently.

  “Change for good!” Maude held out a letter. “Except no one will change! I wrote to Chemical Apple to say that they should stop putting chemicals on their apples. Do you know what they wrote back?”

  Miss Kinde and Miranda shook their heads. Maude read:

  “Oh dear.” Miss Kinde cleared her throat and looked at the clock. They were dangerously close to running out of time for Miranda’s exam.

  “Impossible?!” Maude bellowed. “It’s not impossible! When you do something wrong, you apologize. You say, ‘Sorry, that was a terrible idea. I won’t do it ever again’!”

  Miss Kinde nodded, but Miranda yawned. She couldn’t help it. Maude was her absolutely positively best friend, but not everything that interested Maude interested her. Some things, like whatever Maude was talking about right now, really bored her.

  Maude had her hand in a fist and was talking quickl
y to Miss Kinde. “I did exactly what you told me, Miss Kinde. I said what the problem was and explained why it’s bad. But every letter I get back says the same thing! ‘We’re going to keep fishing,’ ‘We’re going to keep poisoning apples,’ ‘We can’t clean the lake,’ ‘Styrofoam forever’!”

  “Styrofoam?” Miss Kinde asked.

  “Principal Fish,” Maude groaned. “No matter how many times I tell him that Styrofoam is terrible, he won’t do anything about the lunch trays.”

  Miss Kinde coughed a little. “Maude, it’s inspiring to see how much you care about world issues. I am impressed with your many good causes, and I know how disappointed you must be.”

  “I am terribly disappointed. What should I do, Miss Kinde? I need help,” Maude begged.

  Miss Kinde hesitated and then said, “Well, maybe some of your classmates could write letters, too. Sometimes it helps if there’s more than one voice.” She glanced at Miranda, who seemed to be falling asleep.

  Maude looked at Miranda. “I could write so many more letters if you wrote letters, too!”

  Miranda yawned again and shook her head. There was no way she was writing letters! “I’m really busy,” she told Maude, pointing to the practice exam on her desk.

  “Too busy to save the world?” Maude asked. “Too busy for peace and justice and a clean earth?”

  But you’re not actually saving the world, Miranda thought, looking at the pile of Maude’s letters. You’re probably just giving yourself a hand cramp and wasting ink.

  “What do you care about?” Maude asked Miranda. “You must care about something.”

  “I care about lots of things,” Miranda said quietly. “But letter writing is not one of them.”

  The girls looked at each other. Even though they were extremely different, they always got along. And now it wasn’t that they were fighting exactly. But no matter how much Maude wanted her to, Miranda just couldn’t care about letter writing.

  No one said anything. Miss Kinde sneezed, and Miranda and Maude both handed her a tissue. Miss Kinde blew her nose and looked at the clock.

  And then Walter Matthews Mayhew Kaye the eighth walked into 3B.

  3

  ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY SWIMMING IN SOUP

  “Dad?” Maude said. “What are you doing here?”

  “You left so early, my beautiful bark beetle, you forgot your lunch!” He handed her a metal container and a large spoon.

  “No beetle names in school, Dad,” Maude whispered. “And I didn’t forget it, I left it. On purpose. I’m sick of soup.”

  “It smells delicious,” Miss Kinde said. “At least I think it does. I believe I’m getting a cold.”

  “Take it,” Maude grumbled. “I’ve had soup for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and breakfast, lunch, and dinner!”

  “I can’t eat your soup, Maude.” Miss Kinde suddenly sounded congested.

  “Please! I beg you, Miss Kinde. We’re swimming in it.”

  Miranda laughed, thinking about how much soup she’d helped Maude and her family make over the weekend. She might not like letter writing, but spending time at Maude’s house was one of her favorite things to do.

  You never knew what fun you might have over at Maude’s, which was a houseboat in the trees. Maude’s brother, Michael-John, might teach you a very unusual word (this weekend’s word was hircine), or her dad might recite quotes and interesting facts about beetles. You might dance with Onion the Great Number Eleven (a cat), or bathe Rudolph Valentino (a dog), or give a shower to Rosalie (a chicken)! You might help build a classic car and then get driven all over town! Or you might make gallons upon gallons of soup.

  “Let’s trade,” Maude suggested to Miss Kinde. “What do you have for lunch?”

  Miss Kinde turned pink. “Well, um . . .” she said. “Actually, I have soup. But it’s not homemade. I bought it at the store.”

  “Oh dear,” Walt said. “Well, then you must take Maude’s! Homemade soup is so much better! No matter how busy I am, I always try to find time to make soup.”

  “But . . .” Miss Kinde sputtered.

  “Maude can share mine,” Miranda told her. “Chef Blue always packs enormous lunches.”

  “Great idea,” Maude said.

  Miranda hoped a non-soup lunch would stop Maude from asking her to write a billion boring letters.

  Miss Kinde took the container, unscrewed the lid, and inhaled. “Mmm . . .” she said. “But students can’t share food.”

  “Who cares about rules twelve and thirteen?” Maude said. “They’re just words.”

  “Speaking of words,” Walt said, “the French playwright Molière said, ‘I live on good soup, not on fine words.’ Isn’t that lovely?”

  Miss Kinde beamed. “I love plays!”

  Walt grinned. “There’s nothing like theater, is there?”

  Listening to Miss Kinde and Walt talk about soup and theater gave Miranda a warm and happy feeling.

  “Dad,” Maude said, “don’t you have to go discover a beetle or something?”

  Walt looked at the clock and jumped. “Indeed, I do. I’m off to an important beetle conference, where I’m going to share my latest beetle discovery!”

  “Wow!” Miss Kinde sounded impressed.

  “I apologize for the interruption,” Walt said.

  “Quite all right,” Miss Kinde said. “Thanks for the soup.”

  After Walt left, Miss Kinde put Miranda’s unanswered practice exam back on her desk. “Since there’s not enough time for the test, I’ll just put this wonderful soup in the teachers’ lounge,” she said, stepping out into the hall.

  Once their teacher was gone, Miranda turned to Maude. “I know what I care about,” she said.

  “Hooray,” Maude said. “I couldn’t have a best friend who didn’t care about something. What’s your cause? Saving the pangolins? Cleaning Lemon Lake? Getting rid of the Styrofoam lunch trays?”

  “Love,” Miranda said.

  Maude stared at her friend. “Love? What does love have to do with changing the world?”

  “A lot.”

  “Boyfriends and girlfriends and dumb dates and stupid kissing has nothing to do with changing the world!”

  “I mean love like being happy,” Miranda said. “Your dad and Miss Kinde looked happy talking to each other about soup and plays!” She smiled. “Maybe they could go to a play. And eat soup afterward. They both love soup and plays!”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Maude grimaced.

  “Why?” Miranda asked. “Miss Kinde needs homemade soup, especially with her cold, and your dad needs friends. Just this weekend he said he wished there were more people over to enjoy all the soup we made.”

  Maude didn’t remember her father saying that. Had he? Between the soup making and her letter writing and hanging out with her beloved animals and Miranda, Maude hadn’t heard. But still. Love was not a cause! “My dad is too busy for friends,” she told Miranda. “He’s got me, Michael-John, his beetles, his yoga, and his quotes.”

  “No one is too busy for friends,” Miranda said.

  “Well, my dad is!”

  Miranda didn’t say anything.

  “Don’t get my dad into any love cause or anything. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Miranda said quietly as the morning bell rang and Miss Kinde came back in.

  4

  A RULE-BREAKING ANNOUNCEMENT

  When everyone in 3B was at their desks, Miss Kinde asked, as she did every Monday, how their weekends had been.

  “Awesome!” Norris told her. “I played pickleball and got a lava lamp!”

  “I made French crullers,” Donut said. “They weren’t perfect, but they were delicious.”

  “My weekend was great,” Agnes said. “Agatha slept over. We stayed up really late sewing tiny clothes for tiny animals.”

  “I was in a gymnastics show,” Desdemona announced proudly.

  “I came up with an amazing title for a new science fiction story I’m going to write,” Norbert sai
d. “Avenging Alien Bees!”

  “My stepmom taught me how to dance the jitterbug,” Fletcher said.

  “I built the Eiffel Tower!” Felix grinned proudly. “I used three gallons of glue and two thousand and nine popsicle sticks.”

  “My weekend, as you already know, was soupy,” Maude said. “Me, my dad, my brother, and Miranda made nine million gallons of soup,” she told the class. “I also had some unfortunate correspondence from some evil corporations, but I’m hoping my best friend will help me change that.” She looked at Miranda. Miranda stared at her hands. Her hands did not want to write letters to evil corporations. Her hands did not want to write any letters at all.

  “You didn’t make nine million gallons of soup,” Hillary Greenlight-Miller informed Maude.

  “I did.”

  “Impossible,” Hillary said.

  “How was your weekend, Hillary?” Miss Kinde asked, to change the subject.

  “Productive,” Hillary told her. “I went over eight practice exams and read the next five chapters in the science book.”

  The class groaned. Why would Hillary do practice exams and read her science book over the weekend?

  Miss Kinde sniffled. “I hope you had fun, too, Hillary. Weekends should be a break from schoolwork.”

  “Did you have a nice weekend, Miss Kinde?” Miranda asked, suddenly curious about what her teacher did when she wasn’t at school.

  Miss Kinde looked surprised, but sounded pleased when she said, “Thanks for asking, Miranda. My weekend was—”

  “What did you do?” Norris asked.

  “Did you bake?” Donut asked.

  “Sew?”

  “Glue?”

  “Do a one-handed cartwheel?”

  “Well,” Miss Kinde said, “I, um, to be honest, class, I graded practice exams.”

  “The whole weekend?” Maude asked, horrified.