Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentsaretheproductsoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualpersons,livingordead,events,orlocalesisentirelycoincidental.

Textcopyright©1971byJudyBlumeCoverartandinteriorillustrationscopyright©2014byDebbieRidpathOhi

Allrightsreserved.PublishedintheUnitedStatesbyDelacortePress,animprintofRandomHouseChildren’sBooks,adivisionofRandomHouseLLC,aPenguinRandomHouseCompany,NewYork.OriginallypublishedindifferentformbyFourWindsPressin1971andsubsequentlypublishedinhardcoverwithnewillustrationsbySimon&

Schuster,Inc.,NewYorkin2014.

DelacortePressisaregisteredtrademarkandthecolophonisatrademarkofRandomHouseLLC

Visitusontheweb!randomhousekids.com

Educatorsandlibrarians,foravarietyofteachingtools,visitusatRHTeachersLibrarians.com

eBookISBN:978-0-307-81767-9

RandomHouseChildren’sBookssupportstheFirstAmendmentandcelebratestherighttoread.

v3.1

ForRandy…Myfavoritefreckleface

—J.B.

ForJeff,whomakesthebestfrogfaces—D.R.O.

Contents

CoverTitlePageCopyrightDedication

Chapter1Chapter2Chapter3Chapter4Chapter5

AbouttheAuthor

AndrewMarcuswanted freckles.Nicky Lane had freckles.Hehad about amillion of them. They covered his face, his earsandthebackofhisneck.Andrewdidn’thaveanyfreckles.Hehadtwowartsonhisfinger.Buttheydidn’tdohimanygoodatall.IfhehadfreckleslikeNicky,hismotherwouldneverknowifhisneckwasdirty.Sohewouldn’thave towash.And thenhe’dneverbelateforschool.AndrewhadplentyoftimetolookatNicky’sfreckles.Hesatright behindhim in class.Once he even tried to count them.Butwhenhegottoeighty-sixMissKellycalled,“Andrew…areyoupayingattention?”

“Yes,MissKelly,”Andrewsaid.“Good,Andrew. I’mglad tohear that.Nowwillyoupleasepick up your chair and join your reading group? We’re allwaitingforyou.”Andrew stood up in a hurry. His reading group giggled.EspeciallySharon.Hecouldn’tstandthatSharon.Shethoughtshekneweverything!Hepickeduphischairandcarried it tothecornerwherehisreadinggroupsat.“Youmaybegin,Andrew,”MissKellysaid.“Pagesixty-four.”

Andrew turned the pages in his book. Sixty-four … sixty-four. He couldn’t find it. The pages stuck together. Why didMissKellyhavetopickhim?Everybodyelsealreadyhadtheirbooksopenedtotherightpage.Sharonkeptgiggling.Shecoveredhermouthtokeepinthenoise,butAndrewknewwhatwasgoingon.He finally foundpagesixty-four.Rightwhereitwassupposedtobe…betweenpages sixty-threeand sixty-five. Ifhehadhisown freckleshewouldn’thavetocountNickyLane’s.Thenhe’dhearMissKellywhen she called reading groups. And nobodywould laugh athim.Later,whenthebellrang,AndrewpokedNickyLane.“Whatdoyouwant?”Nickyasked,turningaround.“Iwaswonderingaboutyourfreckles,”Andrewsaid.“Ohyeah?Whataboutthem?”Andrewfeltprettystupid.“Well,howdidyougetthem?”

“What do you mean how? You get born with them. That’show!”Andrewthoughtthat’swhatNickywouldsay.Somehelphewas!“Lineup,boysandgirls,”MissKellysaid.“Timetogohomenow.Sharon,youmayleadthegirls.Andrew,youmayleadtheboys.”Some luck! Justwhen he got to be leader he had to standnexttoSharon!When they were in line Sharon whispered to Andrew.“Psst…Iknowhowtogetthem.”“Howtogetwhat?”Andrewasked.“Freckles,”Sharonsaid.“Whoaskedyou?”“I heard you ask Nicky about his.” Sharon ran her tongue

alongherteeth.Shewasalwaysdoingthat.“Doyouwanttoknowhowtogetthem?”Sharonasked.“Maybe,”Andrewtoldher.“It’ll cost you fifty cents. I have a secret recipe for freckle

juice,”Sharonwhispered.

“Asecretrecipe?”“Uh-huh.”Sharon’stongueremindedAndrewofafrogcatchingflies.Hewondered if Sharon ever got amouthful of bugs theway sheopened her mouth and wiggled her tongue around. Andrewinspected Sharon’s face. “You don’t even have freckles!” hesaid.“Lookclose,”Sharonsaid.“I’vegotsixonmynose.”“Bigdeal!Alotofgoodsix’lldo.”“Youcangetasmanyasyouwant.Sixwasenoughforme.Italldependsonhowmuchfrecklejuiceyoudrink.”Andrewdidn’tbelieveSharonforaminute.Notoneminute!There was no such thing as freckle juice. Andrew had neverheardofitbefore!

That night Andrew had trouble sleeping. He kept thinkingaboutfrecklejuice.Maybethereasonnooneinhisfamilyhadfreckles was because no one knew the secret recipe. If theynever even heard of freckle juice, then how could they haveanyfreckles?Itfigured!Andrewdidn’t like the idea of paying Sharon for anything.Andfiftycentswasalotofmoney.Itwasfivewholeweeksofallowance!Buthedecidedthat ifSharon’srecipedidn’twork,he’daskforhismoneyback.Itwaseasy.The next morning Andrew turned the combination of hissafe-bank to just the right numbers. Four on top and zero onthe bottom. He took out five dimes. He wrapped them in atissueandstuffedthewholethinginhispocket.Hedidn’thavetime towashhis ears or neck or anything.Hewanted to see

Sharonbeforethelastbellrang.“Bye,Mom,”Andrewcalled.“AndrewMarcus!Waitaminute!”Hismotherhurriedoverto

him. She almost trippedonher longbathrobe.The curlers inherhair scratchedAndrew’s face as she checkedhis ears andneck.“Please, Mom! Can’t we skip it just this once?” Andrew

begged.Mrs. Marcus stepped away from Andrew. She pointed a

fingerathim. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll letyougo this time.ButtomorrowI’mlookingagain.And,Andrew,zipupyourpants.”Andrewlookeddown.Zipperswereapain!“ThisafternoonwhenyoucomehomeI’llbenextdoor.Mrs.

Burrows invitedmeover toplaycards.Youcomeget thekeyfromme,okay?”“Sure,Mom.Okay.”

Andrew raced to school. He could hardly wait to see thesecret recipe. First he’d look at it, and if it didn’t seem anygood,hejustwouldn’tpay.Sharon was already at her desk when Andrew arrived. Hewentrightovertoher.“Didyoubringit?”heasked.“Bringwhat?”Sharonopenedhereyesrealwide.“Youknowwhat!Thesecretrecipeforfrecklejuice.”“Ohthat!Ihaveit—righthere.”Sharonpattedherpocket.“Well,let’sseeit.”“Doyouhavethefiftycents?”Sharonasked.“Sure—righthere.”Andrewpattedhispocket.“I’mnotgoingtoshowittoyouuntilyoupay,”Sharonsaid.

Andrewshookhishead.“Oh,no!FirstIwanttoseeit.”“Sorry,Andrew.Adeal’sadeal!”Sharonopenedabookand

pretendedtoread.“AndrewMarcus!”MissKellysaid.“Willyoupleasesitdown.

The second bell just rang. This morning we’ll begin witharithmetic.Nicky,pleasepassouttheyellowpaper.Whenyougetyourpaperbeginworkingontheproblemsontheboard.”Andrewwent to his seat. Then he took the tissuewith the

five dimes out of his pocket. He held it near the floor andaimedittowardSharon.She sat in the next row. Sharon stuck out her foot and

stepped on the tissue. Then she slid it over until she couldreachitwithherhand.Shebentdownandpickeditup.MissKellydidn’tnotice.Sharon counted the five dimes. Then she took a piece of

folded-up white paper out of her pocket and threw it toAndrew.

Itlandedinthemiddleoftheaisle.Andrewleanedwayovertopickitup.Buthelosthisbalanceandfelloffhischair.Everybodylaughed,exceptAndrewandMissKelly.Miss Kelly sighed. “Oh Andrew!What are you up to now?Bringmethatnote,please.”

Andrewpickedup the secret recipe.He didn’t evenhave achance to see it. It wasn’t fair. It cost him fifty cents fornothing. He handed it to Miss Kelly. She read it. Then shelookedupathim. “Andrew, youmayhave this back at threeo’clock.” Sheput it in her desk. “I don’twant this to happenagain.Doyouunderstand?”“Yes,MissKelly,”Andrewmumbled.“Good.Nowlet’sgetthatarithmeticdone.”Miss Kelly wasn’t bad, Andrew decided. She could haverippedupthe recipe.Or senthim to theprincipal’soffice.Orevenmadehimstandoutsideinthehallbyhimself.

Andrew could hardly wait for three o’clock to come. Hedidn’t bother counting Nicky Lane’s freckles. Soon he’d havehis own. When the second bell finally rang and the classmarched down the hall, Andrew went up to Miss Kelly. Sheheldthepieceofwhitepaperandwaveditathim.“Here’syournote,Andrew.Ihavethefeeling it’s importanttoyou.Butfromnowonyoumustpayattentioninclass.”Andrew took the recipe fromMissKelly. “After tomorrow Iwon’t have any trouble paying attention,” he promised. “Justyouwait,MissKelly.Iwon’thaveanytroubleatall!”

Andrewranallthewayhome.ThenherememberedhehadtogotoMrs.Burrows’housetogetthekey.Thesecretrecipeforfreckle juice was folded carefully in the bottom of Andrew’sshoe.Hewasgoingtoputitinsidehissock,buthewasafraidifhisfootgotsweaty,theinkmightblurandhewouldn’tbeabletoread it.So, insidehisshoewassafeenough.Even if itwaswindy,nothingcouldhappentoitthere.Hemadeuphismindnottoreadituntilhegothome.Hedidn’twanttowasteanytime getting there. And he wasn’t the world’s fastest readeranyway, even though he’d gotten better since last fall. Still,theremight be some hardwords that would take a while tofigureout.AndrewpressedMrs.Burrows’doorbell.

“Hello,Andrew,”shesaidwhensheopenedthedoor.“You’rehomefromschoolearly.”“Iranalltheway,”Andrewpanted.“Howaboutsomemilkandcookies?”Mrs.Burrowsasked.“Nothankyou.Ijustwantthekey.”“Well,comein,Andrew.Yourmother’sinthelivingroom.”AndrewfollowedMrs.Burrows.Hismotherwasdealingfourpilesofcards.“Hi,Mom.Icameforthekey.”“Manners,Andrew…manners!Don’tyousayhellotoalltheladies?”Mrs.Marcusasked.“Oh.Hello,”Andrewsaid.Mrs.Marcus reached forherpurse.Sheopened it andgave

Andrewthekey.“Changeyourclothesandplayoutside.I’llbehomebyfouro’clock.”

Thatonlygavehimanhour.Hehopedtherecipedidn’tsaytocookanything.Hewasn’tallowedtoturnonthestoveortheoven.Andrewdashedtohishouse,unlockedthefrontdoorandtookoffhisshoesassoonashewasinside.Hepulledoutthesecretrecipeandsatdownonthefloortoreadit.Itsaid:

Andrew read the list twice. It didn’t sound likemuch of asecret recipe. His mother used those things every day. Ofcourse, she didn’t use them all together. Maybe that was thesecret part.Well, he’d paid fifty cents.Hemight aswell find

out.Heclimbeduponthekitchencountersohecouldreachthe

cabinets.He found everything except the lemon—thatwas intherefrigerator—andtheonion.Mrs.Marcuskeptonionsinthebasementinabin.Andrewrandownstairsandselectedasmallone, since the recipeonlycalled fora speck.Withorwithouttheskin,Andrewwondered.He chose a big blue glass. He’d

startwith just oneglassful and thendrink another if he wanted morefreckles.Nopointinoverdoingitthefirst time. That’s what his motheralwayssaid.

Now,firstthegrapejuice,Andrewthought.Hefilledtheglasshalfwayandaddedan ice cube. All drinks tasted bettercoldandhewassurethisonewouldtoo.Then he added the other

ingredients one by one. His motherhad two kinds of vinegars—winevinegar and plain vinegar. Andrew

pickedthewineone.Heputinsomehotmustard,onespoonfulofmayonnaiseandplentyofpepperandsalt.

Thensomeketchup…thatwashardtopour.Butwhataboutoliveoil?Hismotherhadvegetableoil,butnooliveoil.Maybethe stuff that looked like water in the olive jar was whatSharonmeant.Heputinafewspoonfulsofthat.Nowforthelemon. Andrew cut one in half and squeezed.Oh no! A seeddropped in by mistake. He picked it out with his spoon. Hehated pits in his juice. Now all he neededwas that speck ofonionandhewasallset.Hestirredupthedrinkandsmelledit.

OH!ITSMELLEDAWFUL!JUSTPLAINAWFUL!He’dhavetoholdhisnosewhilehedrank it.He stuckhis tongue into theglass to taste it. Ick!Terrible! He didn’t know how hewouldevermanagetogetitdown…andfasttoo.Itsaidtodrinkitvery fast!ThatoldSharon!Sheprobably thoughthewouldn’tbeabletodrinkit.Well,he’dshowher.He’ddrinkitallright!

Andrewheldhisnose,tiltedhisheadbackandgulpeddownSharon’s secret recipe for freckle juice. He felt like throwingup…itwasthatbad!Butifhedid,he’dnevergetfreckles.No,hewouldbestrong!Andrewcreptintohismother’sbedroom.Hedidn’tfeelwellenoughtowalk.Hesatonthefloor infrontof thefull-length

mirror.Hewaitedforsomethingtohappen.

Pretty soon something happened, all right. Andrew turnedgreenish and felt very sick.His stomachhurt.At four o’clockMrs.Marcuscamehome.“Yoo-hoo…Andrew.Whereareyou?”shecalled.Andrewheardherbuthecouldn’tanswer.Hewastooweak.Hemadeasmallnoise.“Andrew Marcus! Is that you?” His mother stood in thedoorwayofherbedroom.“Whatareyoudoinginhere?Itoldyoutoplayoutside!Andwhydidn’tyouchangeyourclothes?Didn’tIsaytochangeyourclothes?”Andrewmadeanothernoise.Mrs.Marcuslookedathisface.“Andrew,you’regreen.Absolutelygreen!Areyousick?”Andrewnodded.Hewasafraidifheopenedhismouth,he’dlosethefrecklejuice.

“Whathurts?”Mrs.Marcusasked,feelinghisforehead.

Andrewmoanedandheldhisstomach.“Ohmy!Appendicitis!Youmust haveappendicitis. I’mgoing

to call the doctor. No, I’d better just drive straight to thehospital.No,I’llcalltheambulance!”Andrewshookhisheadbuthismotherdidn’tnotice.Shesaid,“Don’tmove.I’mgoingintothekitchentophone.

I’llberightback.”Andrewrolledaround,moaning.Mrs.Marcuscamebacktoherbedroominahurry.“Andrew

Marcus!I’vejustseenthatmessinthekitchen.Didyouordidyounotmakesomethingandeatit?”Oh-oh!Heforgottocleanup.Nowsheknew.Well,hedidn’t

care.Hisstomachwaskillinghim.“Well, young man! I’m surprised at you. Surprised! Mrs.

Burrows offered youmilk and cookies and you refused. Thenyoucamehomeandmadeyourselfan…anI-don’t-know-whatand scaredme half to death thinking you had appendicitis. Ialways thought youweremore sensible, Andrew! I just can’tbelieveit.”Andrewclosedhiseyes.“Now,youngman…youaregoingtobed!”Andrewthoughtthatwasthebestideahe’dheardinalong

time.Mrs.Marcus gave him two spoonfuls of pink stuff thattastedlikepeppermint.Thenshetuckedhimintobed.

Maybe the freckleswould comeoutwhilehewas sleeping.Rightnowhedidn’tcaremuchiftheyevercameout!HehatedSharon. She’d done it on purpose. Just to get his fifty cents!He’dshowher.She’dbesorrysomeday.Hedriftedofftosleep.Hehad terribledreams.Abiggreenmonstermadehimdrinktwo quarts of freckle juice, three times a day. Every time hedrankit,themonstergotfrecklesbutAndrewdidn’t.Andrew woke up sweaty. His stomach still felt funny. Hismothergavehimtwomorespoonfulsofthatpinkstuffandhefellasleepagain.The next day Andrew stayed home from school. He onlylookedinthemirroronce—nofreckles!Hewasn’tsurprised.Atnoon he drank some hot tea. He wasn’t ever going back to

school. Sharonwasn’t going to see himwithout freckles. Shethought she was so great. Well, she wasn’t going to get thechancetolaughathim.Nosir!But the following day his mother woke him up and sang,

“Time for school. Rise and shine! Don’t forget to wash yourneckandbehindyourears.”Shepulledthecoversoffhim.“I’m not going to school today,” Andrew said. “I’m never

goingtoschoolagain.”Hehidhisheadunderhispillow.“So!I’vegotaschooldropoutinsecondgrade.We’llhaveto

dosomethingaboutthat!Hereareyourclothes. IwanttoseeyouupanddressedbeforeIcounttofifteenoryou’regoingtotakethreebathsadayeverydayforthenexttenyears!”

Andrewgotdressed.Heateabreakfastbunanddranksomemilk.Buthecouldn’tletSharongetawaywithit.Hehadtodosomething!

AfterbreakfastAndrewracedbacktohisbedroom.Heopenedhisdeskdrawerandlookedforabrownmagicmarker.Allhecouldfindwasablueone.Itwasgettinglate.Bluewouldhavetodo.Heput theMagicMarker inhis lunchboxandheadedfor school. He stopped two blocks before he got there. Hestudied his reflection in a carwindow. Then he took out theMagicMarkeranddecoratedhiswholefaceandneckwithbluedots. Maybe they didn’t look like Nicky Lane’s freckles, buttheysurelookedlikesomething!

Andrewwaiteduntilthesecondbellrang.Thenhehurriedtohisclassandsatdown.Hetookoutabookandtriedtoreadit.Heheardalotofwhisperingbuthedidn’tlookup.MissKellysnappedher fingers.“Let’s settledown,children.Stop chattering.” Everybody giggled. “What’s so funny? Justwhatissofunny?Lisa,canyoutellmethejoke?”Lisastoodup.“It’sAndrew,MissKelly.JustlookatAndrewMarcus!”“Standup,Andrew.Letmehavea lookatyou,”MissKellysaid.Andrewstoodup.“Goodheavens,Andrew!Whathaveyoudonetoyourself?”

“Igrewfreckles,MissKelly.That’swhat!”Andrewknewhisblue dots looked silly but he didn’t care. He turned towardSharon and stuck out his tongue. Sharonmade a frog face athim.MissKellytookadeepbreath.“Isee,”shesaid.“Youmaysitdownnow,Andrew.Let’sgetonwithourmorningwork.”At recess Nicky Lane turned around and said, “Whoeverheardofbluefreckles?”Andrewdidn’t answerhim.He sat in class all daywithhisbluefreckles.AcoupleoftimesMissKellylookedathimkindof funnybutshedidn’t sayanything.Thenat twoo’clockshecalledhimtoherdesk.“Andrew,”MissKelly said. “Howwouldyou like tousemy

secretformulaforremovingfreckles?”Hervoicewaslow,butnotsolowthattheclasscouldn’thear.“Forfree?”Andrewasked.“Ohyes,”MissKellysaid.“Forfree.”Andrewscratchedhisheadandthoughtitover.

MissKellytookasmallpackageoutofherdesk.ShehandedittoAndrew.“Now,don’topenthisuntilyougettotheBoys’Room.Remember,it’sasecretformula.Okay?”“Okay,”Andrewsaid.HewantedtoruntotheBoys’Room,butheknewtherules.Norunning in thehalls.Sohewalkedas fastashecould.Hecouldn’t wait to see what was in the package. Could therereallybesuchathingasfreckleremover?AssoonashewasinsidetheBoys’Roomheunwrappedthepackage.Therewasanote.Andrewreadit.Itsaid:

Ha!Miss Kelly knew. She knew all the time. She knewhisfreckles weren’t really freckles. But she didn’t tell. Andrewfollowed Miss Kelly’s directions. The magic freckle removerformulasmelledlikelemons.Andrewhadtouseitfourtimestogethisfrecklesoff.Thenhewrappeditupandwalkedbacktohisclassroom.MissKellysmiled.“Well,Andrew.Iseeitworked.”“Yes,MissKelly.Itsuredid.”“Youlookfinenow,Andrew.Youknow,Ithinkyou’reaveryhandsomeboywithoutfreckles!”“Youdo?”“Yes,Ido.”“MissKelly…MissKelly!”NickyLanecalledout,raisinghishandandwavingitallaround.“Whatisit,Nicky?”MissKellyasked.“Could I use your magic freckle remover? Could I, MissKelly?Ihatemyfreckles.Ihateeverysingleoneofthem!”Andrew couldn’t believe it. How could Nicky hate hisfreckles?Theyweresoneat!“Nicky,” Miss Kelly said. “Andrew didn’t look good withfreckles. But you lookwonderful! I’dhate to see youwithoutthem.They’repartofyou.So,I’mgoingtoputawaythismagicformula.IhopeIneverhavetouseitagain.”Well,Andrewthought.She’dneverhavetouseitonhim.Hewasthroughwithfreckles.

When the class lined up to go homeAndrewheard SharonwhispertoNicky.“Iknowhowtogetridofthem.”“Getridofwhat?”Nickyasked.“Yourfreckles.”“Youdo?”“Sure.Thesecretrecipeforremovingfreckleshasbeeninmyfamilyforyears.That’showcomenoneofushaveany.I’llsellittoyouforfiftycents!”Then Sharon walked up alongside Andrew. Before AndrewcouldsayawordSharonmadeasuper-duperfrogfacejustforhim.

JUDYBLUME, one of America’s most popularauthors,istherecipientofthe2004NationalBookFoundation’sMedal forDistinguishedContribution toAmericanLetters.Sheis the#1NewYorkTimes bestsellingauthor ofmanybelovedbooks foryoungpeople, includingFreckleJuiceandThePainandtheGreatOne.Herworkhasbeentranslatedintothirty-twolanguages.VisitJudyatJudyBlume.comorfollowheronTwitter@JudyBlume.