conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a story titled Just as Long as We're Together about Key, West, York with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: the author is known and loved by millions of readers for her funny, honest, always believable stories. She lives in Key West and New York City. You can visit her at <u>www.judyblume.com</u>.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this story.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Just as Long as We're Together
  Summary: Stephanie's relationship with her best friend, Rachel, changes during her first year in junior high as she tried to conceal a family problem and meets a new girl from California. 
  It so happens I know plenty about boys. As for hunks, I've never known one personally. Most boys my age—and I'm starting seventh grade in two weeks—are babies. As for my Richard Gere poster, I didn't even know he was famous when I bought it. I got it on sale. The picture must have been taken a long time ago because he looks young, around seventeen. He was really cute back then. I love the expression on his face, kind of a half-smile, as if he's sharing a secret with me.
  Actually, I don't call him Richard Gere. I call him Benjamin but my mother doesn't know that. To her he's some famous actor. To me, he's Benjamin Moore, he's seventeen and he's my first boyfriend. I love that name—Benjamin Moore. I got it off a paint can. We moved over the summer and for weeks our new house reeked of paint. While my room was being done I slept in my brother's room. His name is Bruce and he's ten. I didn't get a good night's sleep all that week because Bruce has nightmares.
  Anyway, as soon as the painters were out of my room I moved back in and taped up my posters. I have nineteen of them, not counting Benjamin Moore. And he's the only one on the ceiling. It took me all day to arrange my posters in just the right way and that night, as soon as my mother got home from work, I called her up to see them.
  I felt kind of bad then and I guess Mom could tell because she said, "Your posters do look nice though. You've arranged them very artistically. Especially the one over your bed."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me four more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: There are times when you know you're going to hear something that you don't want to hear. Something that you've kept yourself from thinking. I sat on the edge of my bed, chewing on the insides of my cheeks.
  I heard Mom and Dad walk down the hall. I heard the rise and fall of their voices but I couldn't make out what they were saying. What exactly had Dad meant by a separation? And why had he acted as if it were my fault that I hadn't known all about it? I tiptoed down the hall. The door to Mom's room was closed. I stood outside and listened.
  That did it! I threw open the door and shouted, "I suppose now you think I'm gullible!" I could see the look of surprise on their faces. "Well, I'm not. I can't be easily tricked by you or by anyone else!" I turned, slammed the door and ran back to my room, where I threw myself facedown on my bed.
  When I woke up, two hours later, I heard Mom talking on the phone. Now that was really unusual because she never takes off from work. When one of us is sick and has to stay home from school, she gets Mrs. Greco to come in for the day.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last three paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I saw a bee buzzing around the forsythia bush in front of Alison's house. I'll have to start wearing my beesting necklace, I thought. I wonder what Alison will say when I tell her Rachel and I are speaking again, that maybe we are even friends. Probably she'll be glad. I broke off a sprig of forsythia and rang Alison's bell.
  It's the end of the seventh grade, and the stress of trying to be perfect is getting to Rachel. She's tired of being the straight-A student on every teacher's list of favorites—especially since her brother has been expelled from boarding school. She's busy dealing with her sister's junior prom mishaps and harboring a secret crush on her brother's tutor. But most importantly, she's working to keep her friendship with Stephanie and Alison strong. Could it be that real life is much more interesting than perfect life? If you're equipped with a good sense of humor, it is!
  Rachel seemingly has the perfect life—she's a straight-A student, a gifted musician, and a good friend. But she feels like her older brother is determined to ruin everything. Her two best friends think he's funny and they urge Rachel to lighten up, but it's not so easy. Not even when the coolest boy in ninth grade notices her. Is it possible that the key to a perfect life is something other than perfection?
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I'll have to start wearing my beesting necklace, I thought. I wonder what Alison will say when I tell her Rachel and I are speaking again, that maybe we are even friends. Probably she'll be glad. I broke off a sprig of forsythia and rang Alison's bell.
  It's the end of the seventh grade, and the stress of trying to be perfect is getting to Rachel. She's tired of being the straight-A student on every teacher's list of favorites—especially since her brother has been expelled from boarding school. She's busy dealing with her sister's junior prom mishaps and harboring a secret crush on her brother's tutor. But most importantly, she's working to keep her friendship with Stephanie and Alison strong. Could it be that real life is much more interesting than perfect life? If you're equipped with a good sense of humor, it is!
  Rachel seemingly has the perfect life—she's a straight-A student, a gifted musician, and a good friend. But she feels like her older brother is determined to ruin everything. Her two best friends think he's funny and they urge Rachel to lighten up, but it's not so easy. Not even when the coolest boy in ninth grade notices her. Is it possible that the key to a perfect life is something other than perfection?