School starts in a week. I’m in my room. I’m playing with my dinosaurs when my mom comes in.
“This came for you, Leo,” she says. “It’s . . . the list.”
The list!
The list is a big deal. It tells us who is in our class for school.
I gulp. I cross my fingers. I really want Abby to be in my class. She’s my best friend. She is the only other kid who likes dinosaurs as much as I do.
Last year, we played dinosaurs together during almost every recess. We even had a dinosaur birthday party together. (The cake was shaped like a T. rex.) We call ourselves the Dino Buds.
My hands shake a little. I’m nervous. I look at the list.
I’m going to be in Mr. Green’s class. That’s good! I’ve heard he is nice and funny.
Then I look at the names of the kids in the class. I don’t know any of them.
But the worst part? No Abby.