“Mommy!” Rosetta screamed, the ends of her two thick braids blowing up. She ran through the living room waving her report card. "I did it!"

Lynda Blay, Rosetta’s mother, turned away from her painting easel. The leopard painting that she was working on was coming along beautifully. “What is it?” she asked.

“I got three As on my report card!” Rosetta screamed.

Lynda sprung from her chair. “Well, now,” she grinned. “Looks like you’re on the right track.”

Her face plump with excitement, Rosetta tried to forget the trouble that she had gotten into earlier in the school year. She wanted to forget her stay in detention for threatening to hit Jennifer Davis . . . she wanted to forget that forever. As she ran around the living room corner, into her mother's art room, she hoped that her mother had forgotten about her school troubles too.

“All the studying that I did paid off,” Rosetta beamed. She hugged her mother around the waist. “Wait until Jennifer sees my report card.” She kissed her mother’s face. Then, she turned and ran out of her mother's art room. “She won't be able to leave me out of all the school clubs and keep telling everybody that I'm stupid.”

“Rosetta,” Lynda tried. “Don’t you go showing off.”

It was too late.

Not even two minutes passed before Rosetta plopped down on the living room sofa and picked up her cell phone.  She called her best friend, Paulette.  “That’s right,” Rosetta exclaimed into her cell phone.  “I got three A's.  I know I did almost as good as Jennifer."

"See," Paulette chimed, "I told you all the studying that you did would pay off."

"Yeah," Rosetta agreed. "You always know what to do."

"Pushing you to study hard every night instead of only once a week isn't tough," Paulette laughed. "I didn't do anything great. You're the one who did the hard studying."

"You just wait until Jennifer gets a look at my report card," Rosetta piped, circling the As on her report card with the tips of her fingers.

"Forget about Jennifer," Paulette coached. "The two of you have been fighting since elementary school. I don't care if you got straight A's for the rest of the school year, climbed to the top of Mount Everest and ran the mile in two minutes, Jennifer would still pick at you," Paulette laughed. "Jennifer just doesn't know how cool you are."

"Thanks, Paulette. You're my best friend for life."

"And, you're my best friend for life," Paulette said. "I love you like a sister. You and me, we're like blood relatives. Sisters."

"For sure," Rosetta cheered. "We've been cool since day uno. Remember when we went ice skating at the rink downtown?"

"We were so little then," Paulette said.

"Like  five and six-years-old," Rosetta smiled, glancing up at the ceiling, as if recalling those early memories. "We had so much fun. Think we skated for a whole hour, falling down and getting back up," she laughed.

"On the way home, you talked your dad into pulling over and taking that injured mutt that we saw on the side of the road to the pound."

"I've always loved animals, Paulette. Couldn't leave that dog limping on the side of the interstate. Do you know that dog had a broken leg?"

"How do you know?"

"My dad told me," Rosetta answered, her hand going up and waving through the air. "I asked him to keep calling the pound. Guess what?"

"What?"

"That dog found a home in less than two weeks."

"Go, Rosetta! You've always rooted for the little guy. And, now you're getting your grades up."

"Thanks, Paulette." She pulled her cell phone closer to her ear. "Now, Jennifer," Rosetta continued, "She always thinks that she’s a lot smarter than everyone, Miss Honor Roll. She's the teacher's pet."

"Who cares?" Paulette shrugged. "You're the fun one! You crack me up sometimes."

"Me, Gregory, Belinda  and Anil like to have fun. Ms. Jackson doesn't care, though. She never notices me or anyone else in class," Rosetta groaned.  She crossed her legs. "But wait until tomorrow," Rosetta piped, grinning at her report card.  "I’m going to class first thing in the morning and shove my report card right in Jennifer’s face.”

The front door swung open. As it did, bits of snow blew off the porch onto the house's front entranceway. And cold air blasted into the living room. It felt like someone had turned on an ice fan.  Cincinnati, Ohio's December temperatures were at record lows. 

Rosetta’s father, Robert Blay, smiled and waved to Rosetta while he walked through the living room into the art room where Rosetta’s mother was painting. 

“What’s Rosetta talking about?” he asked Lynda after he greeted her with a kiss. Project demands at the marketing firm where he worked melted away. He was glad to be home.

Lynda chuckled at the question. Ten-year-old Rosetta was always up to something. It was hard for her mother to know what Rosetta was planning. Lynda figured that Rosetta made plans in her sleep. One thing was certain, Rosetta Blay, two long pigtails going like fresh vine down the sides of her head, was no one to ignore. 

“I don’t know,” Lynda answered. “You know how that girl is.”

"Well, she was on her cell phone saying something about a Jennifer when I walked through the front door.”  He paused. “Isn’t that the name of the girl Rosetta got put in detention over? Remember?" he said to his wife. "Rosetta threatened to fight that girl two months ago." He shook his head. "Rosetta never got into trouble at school until that incident.” He gave his wife a telling glance. “I say we find out what she's up to come dinner time."

 “Oh,” Lynda sighed, “Rosetta’ll let us know soon enough. That girl can’t keep a secret.  She was probably on the phone talking with Paulette.” She shook her head.  “Goodness. When those two get together." 

An hour later, the entire family was in the kitchen.  Rosetta’s older sister, Francine, sang Ariana Grande's  hit song," Break Free" while she helped their mother cook a tuna casserole.  As she sang, Francine rocked her head from side to side and filled the kitchen with sound.

At the edge of the kitchen counter, Rosetta tossed a chef salad. Her father set the table while Rosetta’s brother, Leroy, fed the family dog -- a Husky named Joe.

Francine, Leroy and Rosetta went to the same school, Harriet Tubman School on Fifth Avenue. Leroy was in the seventh grade. Francine was in the eighth grade, three grades ahead of Rosetta. As far as Rosetta saw it, she was in the grade that all the cool kids were in – the fifth grade .