At the thought, something jiggled inside Jess. He knew he was better than he had been last spring.
Fulcher might think he was going to be the best, now that Wayne Pettis was in sixth, but he, Jess, planned to
give old Fulcher a le-etle surprise come noon. It was as though he had swallowed grasshoppers. He could hardly wait.
Mrs. Myers handed out books almost as though she were President of the United States,
dragging the distribution process out in senseless signings and ceremonies.
It occurred to Jess that she, too, wished to postpone regular school as long as possible.
When it wasn't his turn to pass out books, Jess sneaked out a piece of notebook paper and drew.
He was toying with the idea of doing a whole book of drawings. He ought to choose one chief character and do a story about it.
He scribbled several animals and tried to think of a name. A good title would get him started.
The Haunted Hippo? He liked the ring of it. Herby the Haunted Hippo? Even better.
The Case of the Crooked Crocodile. Not bad. “Whatcha drawing?”
Gary Fulcher was leaning way over his desk. Jess covered the page with his arm. “Nothing.”
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