Letters from an Alien, by Robert Caisley 
Reading for one girl – Hannah
772 2736.  I’ve seen it before. That mark on your arm.  772 2736.  When I was little, I told my friend about it, and we laughed, Poppa.  We laughed at you.  We made jokes that you were a robot and that was your special code number.  But all the time I was laughing something inside told me, it’s no joke.  I was so scared that number meant you were different and I didn’t want to be like you.  Every morning I’d check my arms…I thought a number might suddenly appear. (Beat) What I’ve seen in books, your arm, your songs, these paintings…it’s just little bits and pieces.  A jig-saw puzzle I’m trying to put together, but people keep stealing the pieces.  (Beat) In class I have to talk about something that’s important to me, and I’ve found out what’s important.  My history and you, Poppa. Will you help me?
 
 
Men Don’t Leave, by Barbara Benedek and Paul Brickman
Reading for one boy – Chris
I wasn’t fine.  I know that.  I’m sorry. I apologize.  I can be different if you just give me a chance.  You and I could be friends and get along and I’ll go to classical musical concerts whenever you want.  And I could even do some things around the house for you.  I could mow your lawn if you ever grow one because you see, my mother really likes having you as a friend.  She doesn’t really know a lot of people here and I think she’s getting sad again, and when she had you to talk to she didn’t seem so sad and I know I was a real pain and I promise I won’t be and I know you probably don’t believe me, but maybe if you could just give me another chance.  Cause I – (faltering, voice breaking) – I really hate to see her so lonely.
 
 
Sammy Carducci’s Guide to Women, by Ronald Kidd
Reading for one boy – Sammy
…So I’m standing there in the cafeteria, doing my survey with Gus, when all of a sudden I’m staring at the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.  She looks fourteen or fifteen at least, but I know she couldn’t be, maybe she flunked a grade or two.  Then I look at her eyes, which shine like a couple of spotlights, and I know she’s too smart for that.  While I’m watching, she pushes her hair back behind one ear and smiles.  I get this incredible feeling, like…how can I explain it?  It’s like somebody ran one of those rubber squeegees across the windshield of my life.  Kinda poetic, huh?  I get like that sometimes.  Suddenly everything’s bright and clear.  I know without a doubt she is the woman of my dreams.