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CHF18.80
Habituellement expédié sous 4 à 9 semaines.
Auteur
Kelly Starling Lyons (she/her) is the award-winning author of the Jada Jones and Ty's Travels series and picture books including Sing a Song: How "Lift Every Voice & Sing" Inspired Generations and Hope's Gift. She lives in North Carolina. Find out more at www.kellystarlinglyons.com
Wayne C. Spencer (he/him) is a cartoonist, illustrator, and dinosaur enthusiast. He graduated from the Savannah College of Art and Design, where he nurtured an abiding compulsion to draw characters and tell stories about them. Originally from North Carolina, he currently lives in Florida with two powerful daughters and a mighty wife.
Texte du rabat
From the award-winning author of the Jada Jones chapter books comes an illustrated spinoff series all about fourth grader Miles Lewis.
Miles Lewis loves science and sports. But when his teacher announces a class field trip to an ice skating rink to learn about physics, he isn't so excited. He's never ice skated before, and his friend RJ won't let him forget it. RJ even challenges him to a bet: If Miles skates without falling, RJ will put a "Miles is the man" sign on his backpack. But if Miles falls, he has to put one on his that says the same about RJ. Miles can barely focus on the bet, though, because he suspects his beloved Nana has plans to move out of his family's house-and that's just too much to bear. Can he keep his cool with all the pressure from RJ while finding a way to make his grandma stay?
Échantillon de lecture
Chapter One
 
Game On
 
Skating is serious business in my family. My mom and dad can glide backward, spin in circles, bop to the music. They said the roller rink was the place to be when they were growing up. They love to tell people they met at a spot called Spinning Wheels back in their hometown of Pittsburgh. I know. Kinda corny, but it makes me smile.
 
Me? I like skating okay. But bike riding, that’s my thing. Coasting down a hill with the wind in my face, pumping my legs as I jet down a trail—I’m with that any day. That’s why I sighed at first when my teacher, Miss Taylor, said that our next field trip was going to the rink.
 
My boy RJ caught me.
 
“What’s wrong, Miles?” he whispered.
 
“Nothing,” I said. “I just hoped we were going someplace different.”
 
All around me on the orange-and-blue carpet, my friends cheesed. Jada, Lena, and Simone nudged one another. Carson whispered to Gabi. Soon, our class rumbled with energy like a crowd getting hyped before a big game.
 
Fourth grade already had more field trips than third. I guess skating wasn’t so bad.
 
“Class, class,” Miss Taylor said to settle everyone down.
 
“Yes, yes,” we answered.
 
“I know you’re excited. Let’s go over the details. We’re not going to just any skating rink. We’re going ice-skating. Did you know that skating can teach you a lot about physics?”
 
Did Miss Taylor say physics? I sat up straight. Now we were talking. If there was something I liked as much as riding bikes, it was science and technology. Rock collecting, doing experiments with my chemistry set, building robots, and flying drones. Maybe this field trip would be better than I thought.
 
“Has anyone gone ice-skating before?” Miss Taylor asked.
 
“Gabi and I are on hockey teams,” Carson said.
 
My friend Jada raised her hand.
 
“I went ice-skating with my cousins when we were visiting family in New York City,” she said. “I fell a few times, but I got it by the end.”
 
Lena took ice-skating lessons. RJ had gone before, too. I wondered why I’d never tried it. As my friends shared what it was like, it sounded kinda tricky. But I could roller-skate and was pretty good at picking up new things. I wasn’t sweating it. How hard could it be?
 
At recess, RJ and I headed for kickball with Gabi and Kyla. The girls had their own conversation going. RJ put his hand on my shoulder.
 
“Miles, you got me beat in most sports,” he said. “I’m so glad I have one up on you.”
 
“What are you talking about? It’s not a competition.”
 
“I’m talking about ice-skating,” he said. “Finally, finally, I know how to do something you haven’t tried.”
 
I shrugged. If that made him feel good, cool.
 
“You’re definitely gonna wipe out at least once,” he said.
 
Made sense that I might fall as I learned, but the way he said it made me roll my eyes.
 
“Don’t worry, I’ll be there to help you up.”
 
Gabi and Kyla grew quiet like our conversation just got interesting. I didn’t know why RJ was making a big deal out of this, but I wasn’t going to let him talk trash.
 
“It may be my first time, but I don’t know if I’ll be falling. I can skate.”
 
“You sure about that?” he said. “How about a bet?”
 
Bet? It was like that word echoed through the playground and caught everyone’s attention. Bet. Bet. Bet. I heard whispering and felt stares on my back.
 
“If you skate without falling, I’ll put a ‘Miles is the man’ sign on my backpack. If you fall, you have to put one on yours saying that I am.”
 
RJ was my friend, but he loved competition. Too much sometimes. This whole thing was silly—I just wanted to learn about physics and have some fun. But now that everybody was listening, I was on the spot.
 
“Bet,” I agreed.
 
The pressure was on. 
 
 
Chapter Two
 
Looking Like Me
 
When the school bus pulled up to my stop, I bumped fists with RJ and hopped off. I could see Nana down
 
 the block weeding in the front of our house. She wiped her glistening face with her arm and smiled when she spotted me. The silver in her locs shone in the sunlight.
 
“There’s my boy,” she said when I bent down and kissed her cheek. “How was your day?”
 
“It was pretty good,” I said. “I aced a test and found out we’re going on an ice-skating field trip.”
 
“Sounds fun,” she said. “I did some skating in my day.”
 
“Ice-skating?”
 
“Yes, sir. Don’t sound so shocked. Your nana knows a few things,” she said, winking. “Got a lot of homework?”
 
“Already did it. I’ll take my backpack in and come out and help.”
 
I don’t know why I was surprised that Nana could ice-skate. Just when I thought I knew everything about her, she revealed something else. Like the time she pointed herself out as an extra in a movie we were watching. Or when she told us about the time she had filled in for a famous singer when his bus didn’t make it to the club on time.
 
Inside, her paintings gave clues about her life. A brown girl standing behind a microphone onstage. People of all ages protesting with picket signs raised high. A picture of my granddad, who passed away when I was little, in an air force uniform. A portrait of our family—Momma, Dad, Nana, and me—holding hands around the dinner table. That was my favorite.
 
Sometimes I wished there was another kid in the pi…