How to Outrun a Crocodile When Your Shoes Are Untied by Jess Keating

farther up on his nose.
    She nodded. “Any medium at all. Paints, clay, pastels, collage, colored pencils, anything! So long as you’re using your hands to make it, and we have a teeny chat, explaining your choices. I’m hoping to have some of them displayed during the summer, so new seventh-grade students next year can see your work, as inspiration.”
    A few buzzes of excitement sped through the room, but I couldn’t help but hunch down a little lower when I heard that. Next year’s students getting to see my work? That would be like someone seeing inside my doodle notebook. That’s practically like seeing someone in their underwear.
    â€œAny other questions?”
    Bella lifted her hand from across the room. It was easy to forget she was there, buried behind her notebook. “Do we have to?” she asked. Her voice was stronger than I thought it would be. “I mean, do we have to display them when they’re done?”
    Ms. Fenton puckered her mouth and tapped her lips with her finger. “Well, no. You don’t have to. But I think it would be great for new students to see. Think of how intimidated you were when you started seventh grade!”
    Bella nodded, and I shot her an appreciative glance. At least I wasn’t the only chicken around here.
    â€œI thought it might be nice if you paired up to work,” Ms. Fenton continued. “Maybe with someone you’ve never worked with before. If not now, then when, right? Summer is almost here!” She sang happily and hopped from her desk and began spreading out the materials at the front of the room. “Before you start, make sure you pick up this list I’ve prepared with questions to prompt you along the way. If you’re not sure where to start, this is for you.” She waved a stack of pink papers in her hand. “Chop, chop, little onions!” She clapped twice and pointed to the colorful spectrum in front of her.
    Chairs skidded as everyone leaped up and ran to the front. I took my time, wondering how in heck I was going to show who I was in this project. Who was I, anyway? Was I colored pencil? Was I a collage? Was I stinky clay? I didn’t feel like much of anything without Liv here.
    â€œHey,” a small voice interrupted my thoughts. “You want to work on our projects together?” Bella was standing by my bench with a timid smile. Normally I would have worked with Liv, but without her, I assumed I’d be on my own.
    â€œSure,” I said, shoving over to make room for her. If the Sneerers didn’t like her, she couldn’t be that bad. Funny I never noticed how cute her short hair is, with tiny metal clips over her ears. She looked almost like an elf, with darting eyes that seemed to have a lot of secrets. She passed me one of the question sheets Ms. Fenton had prepared for us.
    â€œMaybe we should brainstorm some ideas first?” She peered up at the front of the room, where everyone was clamoring for all the good paintbrushes. “We can figure out who we are.” She rolled her eyes, but in the “oh boy” way, not the mean way. A smile tugged at the side of her mouth, making her even more elf-like.
    â€œGood idea. I have no idea who I am.” I giggled.

    I’m not sure when I fell asleep after I got home from school—all I knew was that I woke up to the sound of Mom’s vacuuming downstairs. Now that she knew Grandpa and Sugar would be around more, it was like Oprah was on her way.
    For the first time in my life, I didn’t even want to draw, which probably meant I was dying from some awful disease that I’d picked up from crummy math class. I always figured integers were contagious.
    Things I Would Do If It Meant I Could Sleep until College
    1. Play video games with Daz. Complete with all the squirming and girly screaming. And that’s just Daz.
    2. Juggle every one of Daz’s snakes at once.
    3. Take over dish duty for the