摘要
那天下午，我坐在学校砖楼二楼的窗台上，看着一辆辆经过的汽车，心不断地往下沉。裴老师带的四年级班的年终派对将在那天举行，我已经盼了好几个星期了。那个星期，裴老师还在黑板上弄了个倒计时牌。当这个令人望穿秋水的“派对星期五”到来的时候，我们这班九岁大的孩子兴奋得像炸开了锅。
As i sat perched in the second-floor window of our brickschoolhouse that afternoon, my heart began to sink further with each passing car. This was a day I＇ d looked forward to for weeks： Miss Pace＇s fourth-grade, end-of-the-year party. Miss Pace had kept a running countdown on the blackboard all that week, and our class of nine-year-olds had bordered on insurrection by the time the much-anticipated ＂party Friday＂ had arrived.
