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May quick came out from under her sweater at that news.

She looked at our group.

“Okay. Fine. I'll be the team leader,” she told us.

After that, she made a mean face at Mr. Scary. And she took out her pencil.

“I know just what we're going to write about, too,” she said kind of growly.

She waved her hands at us. “You four guys just talk about your normal stupid stuff, and I'll write the poem,” she said. “I'll read it to you when I get done.”

Lennie looked disappointed. “But Mr. Scary said we should write our poem together, May,” he said.

“Sí,” said José. “We're supposed to share thoughts and ideas, remember?”

May threw her hands in the air.

“I knew it!” she said. “I knew working as a team wouldn't work. Fine. You guys just write your own dumb poem. And I'll write mine.”

After that, she took her pencil and paper. And she hid under her sweater again.

All of us looked at each other and shrugged. Then we started right to work.

I tapped on my chin.

“Hmm. It says the first line needs to be the title,” I said. “So maybe the title should come first.”

May peeked her eyes out at me. “Duh,” she said.

José covered her up again.

Just then, Herb raised his hand.

“Hey! I know,” he said. “Since Mr. Scary wrote a pickle poem, why don't we write one about an olive?”

He leaned back in his chair and did a happy thumbs-up.

No one did a thumbs-up back.

’Cause what kind of dumb idea was that?

“An olive?” I said.

“I hate olives,” said José.

“I threw up an olive once,” said Lennie.

Herb looked irritated at us.

I patted him. “Don't be mad,” I said. “It's just that maybe there's something funner to write about than an olive, that's all.”

“Sí,” said José. “Like maybe we could write about soccer. Playing soccer is fun, right?”

“Yes,” I said. “Plus riding the bus to school is fun, too. Right, Herb? Me and you always have fun on the bus. Don't we?”

Lennie shook his head. “But I don't ride the bus, Junie B.,” he said. “I think we should write about something that all of us know about.”

He thought for a second. Then he clapped his hands together.

“I know! We could write about how all of us shampoo our hair to keep it healthy and shiny! All of us do that, right?”

After that, me and José and Herb just looked and looked at him.

’Cause sometimes Lennie is off the deep end, that's why.

Finally, José put his head on his desk.

“Maybe we're making this too hard,” he said. “Why can't we just write about something easy? Like about how all of us are friends or something.”

Herb smiled a little bit. “Yeah. That's a good idea. We could write about the four of us. And we could call it ‘Friends.’”

José smiled, too. “Sí,” he said. “Or ‘Amigos,’ maybe.”

Just then, I bounced up and down real excited.

’Cause the perfect title just hit me, that's why! It hit me right out of the clear blue sky!

“PALLIES!” I said. “Let's call it ‘Pallies’! ’Cause that's what we are, right? All four of us are bestest pallies! And ‘Pallies’ sounds like a cute title, don't you think?”

I looked at them real hopeful.

Then all of my pallies started to smile.

Our poem was off to a great start!

We worked on our poems for the whole entire morning, almost.

And ha! Mr. Scary was right! Sharing ideas did help spark our imaginations! Plus all of us got to add our own special words to our poem! And that is called good teamwork!

After we got done, I printed our poem on a clean piece of paper.

Lennie and José and Herb watched me real careful.

“I am an excellent printer,” I told them.

“I can print with the best of them.”

Pretty soon, all of the other children in Room One finished their poems, too.

And good news! Mr. Scary said there was time to read some of our poems to the class.

Lucille didn't wait to get called on.

She ran right to the front of the room. And she made squinty eyes at Camille and Chenille.

“I wanted to write my poem with two girls in my group,” she said. “But all they wanted to write about was twins, twins, twins.”

She looked at them some more.

“The whole world is not just about you two,