With that yucky, breathless affectation that would win any eleven-year-old of ours a smack upside her empty head, Rona tells of her agony over having to wear glasses, her schemes for earning money for contacts, and her mother's short-lived desire to be liberated by an outside job. During Mom's brief spell as a tour guide, Rona fills in for her at Dad's deli, and the ""fantastic"" college kids she waits on there -- one blind boy, one plain girl with glasses, one beautiful sighted boy who loves the girl despite her glasses -- make Rona see that the important things are what's inside and how you see out. Through all this Rona is running off every few minutes (or so it seems) to brief her best friend, who seems to wait in a constant ""tizzy of excitement"" to hear that handsome eighth grader Paul Wallace showed up at the deli. . . that Rona, who has a knack for bad verse, plans to write greeting cards to pay for her contacts (""Shar, I've got it!""). . .that the card company rejected her poems (""Shar, I'm going to die""). . .that she doesn't need contacts after all. . . . For non-best friends Rona's self-preoccupied agitation is hard to take.