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BOOK 4, CHAPTER 1-3

THE QUESTIONING BOOK StoryTime by Cupideros

BOOK FOUR: SUSANNA’S TURN—
THE GIRL WHO READS WITH OTHERS

PEOPLE/SCIENCE SCHOOL

PART ONE: THE GIRL WHO READS WITH OTHERS

CHAPTER ONE: NOT A READER

Susanna Cordova had a problem.

She didn’t know it was a problem. That was the problem.

Every day, when her teacher said, “Take out your independent reading books,” Susanna’s hand went to her backpack. Her fingers found the zipper. She did not open it.

“I forgot my book,” she said.

Every time.

“Susanna, you forgot your book yesterday.”

“I forgot it again today.”

“Three days in a row, Susanna?”

She fluffed her big, pretty Black Afro. “My memory is bad.”

“Susanna’s the best-dressed girl in this dysfunctional-styled Maplewood Middle School. Bitch! Leave her alone,” said Katie Lake, the leader of the Mean Girls crowd.

“Yeah, B!” echoed Katie Lake’s chorus girls. “Leave Susanna A-LONE!”

The teacher sighed. She wasn’t ready to take on the Sisterhood of Mean Girls. That could result in pink lipstick scribbled across her front car window or something worse, like an unexpected flat during class. She was a nice teacher, Ms. Alvarez, and she had been teaching for fifteen years. She had seen everything—the bullying, some children rising above it, and other children transferring out to new schools. Ms. Alvarez also saw some children go from being bullied to being bullies. Joining the Sisterhood was everything for these cruel girls. Ms. Alvarez, too, accepted the fact that people are messy. She had seen kids who couldn’t read. Kids who wouldn’t read. Kids who pretended to read. Kids who hid books inside other books. Kids who read upside down just to be funny.

But Susanna was different.

Ms. Alvarez knew for a fact that Susanna could read!

Ms. Alvarez had seen it. During group reading, when Susanna was paired with Marcus or Keisha or any of the other kids, Susanna read perfectly. Her fluency was good. Her comprehension was strong. She laughed at the jokes. She asked questions about the plot. She remembered every detail. She would make a wonderful teacher one day—if only she could remember to bring her book.

But when Ms. Alvarez said, “Susanna, now read on your own,” Susanna’s eyes went blank.

“I forgot my book.”

Every time.

So, Ms. Alvarez paired Susanna with Marcus, who was reading a graphic novel about space worms. Susanna read over Marcus’s shoulder. She laughed at the funny sci-fi jokes. She asked questions about the types of technology and spaceships in the plot. She remembered every specific theme, such as the common conflicts found in novels and stories: man vs. man, man vs. society, logic vs. emotion, and nature vs. nurture. Clearly, Susanna Cordova belonged in the prestigious Maplewood Middle School due to her meritorious ability.

When Ms. Alvarez said, “Time to stop reading,” Susanna always responded, “Already?”

The Mean Girls and Cruel Boys laughed.

Ms. Alvarez went on persistently, “You read for twenty minutes.”

Susanna quipped, “It felt like five,” with the deadpan face of a stoic noticing a herd of horses running wild over the horizon.

Ms. Alvarez studied Susanna. It was all an act, Ms. Alvarez was convinced. This is how she avoided being bullied. Susanna never read alone. Susanna always had a reason, of course, but Ms. Alvarez noticed that Susanna was not a bad reader.

Like everyone else, Ms. Alvarez also noticed that stylishly dressed Susanna was a reader who didn’t know she was a reader.

But Ms. Alvarez didn’t say anything. She just sighed again and moved on to the next student.

And Susanna kept forgetting her books.

CHAPTER TWO: WHAT SUSANNA DIDN’T KNOW

Susanna thought she hated reading. That was a self-awareness problem. Except no one ever told Susanna what self-awareness meant. So, Susanna thought she hated reading. She told herself that, and that was what she told her parents, too. That was what she told anyone who asked.

“I’m not a reader,” she would say. “Some people are readers. I’m not.”

But the truth was more complicated. What Susanna always told others was THE LIE THAT DEPENDED ON THE TRUTH!

The Truth That Depended On The Truth was that Susanna loved stories. She loved them the way some people loved music or movies or video games. For her, that feeling of falling into another world pulled Susanna into the readings and the surprise of a plot twist. She truly loved the satisfaction of an ending that made sense.

Susanna just couldn’t do it alone.

When her mom read aloud at night, Susanna stayed up past her bedtime just to hear what happened next.

When her little brother sounded out words and Susanna helped him, she found herself reading ahead, eager to know the ending.

When the teacher paired her with a partner, Susanna finished the assignment faster than anyone else.

But alone?

The page felt too quiet. The words felt too still. The story felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for someone else to come sit beside her.

She didn’t know how to explain the situation. If someone had described it as dressing stylishly and coordinating fresh combinations of colors, such as chocolate and pink or red and dark blue, maybe Susanna would have understood. She could do difficult things alone—especially styling and picking out clothing basics and their accompanying structured pieces.

For this reading-alone thing, though, she didn’t have the words.

So she said, “I forgot my book.”

And everyone believed her.

CHAPTER THREE: THE PENCIL

Julie Chen found Susanna walking alone in the hallway, trailing late to class to avoid the crowds.

Susanna was standing by the water fountain, pretending to be interested in a poster about cheerleading tryouts during the three-month school break. The poster showed a smiling, perfect-teeth girl, with Katie Lake in the center holding golden-yellow and royal-blue pompoms. Susanna hated the poster. She had hated it for three years.

“I was wrong,” Julie said, walking up to her. “Some stories are true.”

“You surprised me, Julie Chen. How are you today? The volleyball camp poster was better,” Susanna spoke half to herself and half to Julie. Susanna turned. “You went alone? To a creepy old library?”

“All stories about bad things are not true, Susanna. Unlike Internet fake pics and salacious gossip, or AI slop, this mysterious ancient library was different, to say the least. It is as real as the back of my hand.”

Julie held up her hand. No tattoo. No mark. Just a butter-yellow hand.

“And you almost got a Great Wall tattoo on that hand!” Susanna pointed to Julie Chen’s right hand.

“I was PMSing.” Julie shrugged. “But I didn’t. Because PMSing is not the entire history of my life. One week out of a month.”

Susanna stared at her. Her large, curly black Afro softened her face, giving Susanna an innocent look. Then she gave a soft laugh. A real laugh. The kind that came from surprise. “Hahahaha-ha hahaha.”

Julie Chen smiled. “I made a funny joke, didn’t I, about the Internet stuff and AI Slop?”

“Yes, you did. But seriously, Julie, I do need to learn to read,” Susanna continued, “like Milo. I could be missing a lot of future opportunities.”

“If you want a partner—it can’t be me! I’m not going back,” Julie said quickly. “I learned my spooky reading lesson. One historical time is enough.”

“Damn.” Susanna frowned. Susanna realized she wasn’t going to find The Sisterhood in Julie Chen. Julie walked alone, studied alone, and usually got a ride home from Maplewood Middle School alone with her parents. But at least Susanna wasn’t always alone. She had a younger brother by three years, Otelo. “Maybe I can go alone.”

Julie Chen pulled something from her pocket. A worn-down #2 yellow pencil. Worn down—the wood was smooth from being held. The eraser was almost gone. Carved into the side were symbols. A lightning bolt. A small frame. A tiny reflection page from a book that looked like a shiny piece of glass or mirror.

“Milo’s stories are lies,” Julie said carefully. “That ancient library is not a place where people disappear. Well, maybe for a few hours they do.”

Susanna looked at the worn-down #2 yellow pencil but did not take it. Again, Susanna looked, but this time she looked at Julie Chen. “I trust you, Julie Chen.”

“I don’t advise going after school lets out. It gets dark.” Julie Chen stretched out her hand and handed the warm, worn-down #2 yellow pencil to Susanna.

Susanna, now, took the shorter #2 yellow pencil. Immediately a sense of ancient power coursed through Susanna’s veins—she felt old and ancient, maybe wiser. She noticed the markings—three symbols: a lightning bolt, a frame, and a pane of glass or mirror. Finally, it had happened. Susanna said, “I’m in the Sisterhood.”

At first, Julie Chen looked confused, doing a double-take. “Oh! Yes! I get it. We’re a Sisterhood now. I like that!” Julie Chen smiled a broad, welcoming smile. “Now, skip school like all the other children do, Susanna. That’s what I did!”

Being in The Sisterhood finally, Susanna felt more confident about the whole project. She thought hard about it. She scanned her pink sneakers. She was late to history class anyway now. Susanna adjusted her pink backpack. “You’re right, students skip school all the time.” Susanna eyed the exit door way down the hallway. “I’ll go,” Susanna said. She put the warm #2 yellow pencil inside her black-pleated maxi-skirt pocket.

And she went.