3.25 Make Predictions Literature Worksheet

At the edge of the stage, the curtain smelled like dust and old applause. Zara peeked through a small gap and saw rows of faces, blurry in the dim light. Her poem was folded in her fist, creased from being squeezed. She had written it about her grandfather, but she hadn’t told anyone that part. The host whispered, “You can still switch to the funny poem if you want.” Zara’s laugh came out thin. She looked down at the serious poem, then at the funny one in her pocket. In the front row, she spotted her grandfather’s hat—his favorite, with the frayed brim. Zara’s shoulders squared, almost on their own.

In the photo album, a picture slipped out and landed face down on the rug. Micah picked it up and turned it over. It showed his mom, younger, standing beside a woman Micah had never seen. Between them was a hospital door with a room number. The back of the photo had a date and three words: “First day home.” Micah’s mom entered the room carrying laundry. She froze when she saw the photo, then set the basket down slowly. Micah didn’t ask right away. He watched her hands, which were twisting the edge of a towel as if wringing out time itself.

The first time Juno visited her new school, she wore a bright yellow jacket that made strangers smile. On her first real day, she hesitated in front of the closet. The yellow jacket hung beside a plain gray hoodie. She remembered yesterday’s hallway: a sea of neutral colors, voices that moved in groups. On her desk at home, her mom had left a note: “Be you. That’s the point.” Juno touched the yellow sleeve, then the gray hood. Outside, the air looked cold, but the sun was bright.