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their legs off the floor and onto their chairs. John squeals and pulls his legs up, too. His knees bang the bottom of his desk, and a container of pens and pencils goes flying.
    Chase and Taylor and Lexie get out of their seats to look for Lester. So do other kids.
    I go to Joseph and say, “Let’s look behind the bookshelves. He likes dark places.”
    We go, and we look, but Lester isn’t back there.

    Joseph sets off to search somewhere else, but I grab his wrist.
    â€œUm . . . we should keep a lookout,” I say. “Just in case.”
    Joseph pulls his eyebrows together. Then he lets them relax. He slides his back along the wall and sits down.
    â€œTaylor is loud,” he says.
    â€œI know,” I say, sliding down next to him.
    â€œEven louder than he used to be.”
    â€œI know.”
    There is chaos all around us, but Joseph and I have the book nook to ourselves. We watch people shriek and run around.
    â€œDoes Lester escape a lot?” Joseph asks.
    â€œNot a
lot
a lot. Maybe once a week.” I straighten my legs. “Mrs. Webber keeps trying to give him away, but nobody will take him.”
    â€œ
I
would, except there’s no way my mom would say yes,” Joseph says.
    â€œSame with mine,” I say. “And it’s too bad, because Teensy Baby Maggie needs a pet, but oh well.”
    â€œHuh?” Joseph says.
    â€œTeensy Baby Maggie,” I explain. “She needs a pet.”
    â€œShe does? Why?”
    For a second I can’t come up with an answer. Why
does
Maggie need a pet?
    I almost say, “Because I said so,” but that’s the kind of thing a kindergartner might say, or even a preschooler.
    â€œShe just does,” I say.
    â€œWhat would she do with it?”
    â€œBe nice to it. Feed it crackers. I don’t know.”
    â€œFeed it crackers?”
    â€œThat part’s not important. The important part is that my mom said no to five thousand of my good ideas, but guess what? She said yes to a bird!”
    Joseph tilts his head. “Why a bird?”
    â€œWhy not a bird?”
    â€œA parrot?”
    I’m getting frustrated, and my fingers tighten into a fist. “Not a parrot, because parrots don’t live in the wild. My mom’s one rule is that I have to catch the bird myself.”
    â€œHuh?
How?!
”
    â€œ
Agh!
I don’t know! Maybe with a butterfly net! But if I do catch a bird—” I open my fingers and press them hard on the floor. “I mean,
when
I catch a bird, I get to keep it.”
    â€œCool,” Joseph says. He hesitates. “But . . . I thought you were giving it to Baby Maggie.”
    â€œWe’ll share. Also, Lexie thinks I can’t, so I
have
to catch one to prove her wrong.”
    Joseph doesn’t get it, I can tell. Then I remember that he doesn’t know about our recitations last week. Mrs. Webber made us do an act of kindness, and I wanted my kindness to be a pet for Maggie, only it didn’t work out. The bird-catching bit was part of my speech to the class, but Joseph didn’t hear my speech.
    I press the back of my head against the wall.
    Joseph really was gone a long time.
    He missed
a lot
.
    I don’t mind helping him catch up, and I don’t mind all his questions. Not truly. I
do
mind everyone else in the world hogging his attention . . . but that isn’t happening this very second, so why do I feel like there’s a hole in my chest?
    I feel this same way at bedtime every so often, after Mom and Dad kiss me and say good night and then go away. It’s a feeling of being lonely, and it comes to me with a shock that I miss Joseph.
    I miss him even though here he is beside me. I DON’T
KNOW
WHY.
    I look at Joseph. Joseph looks at me.
    â€œFound him!” Chase proclaims, holding Lester in the air.
    And
yay
for Lester, I guess, but I still feel lost.

CHAPTER FOUR
    O n Wednesday, I come up with an