Chapter
1
Puffy, white marshmallow clouds hung in the sky outside of Olive Regle’s classroom window, while a lawn mower buzzed across the football field with the insistence of a bee. Inside the classroom, Olive could almost smell the mown grass—the smell of summer vacation. The clock ticked and tocked, steady as a drum.
Josie Letay was giving her Summer Plans presentation. For vacation, she was going to a tropical island, then to a snow-capped mountain, then to an active volcano. Olive’s legs jiggled anxiously in her seat—because in about sixty seconds, she would have to stand in front of the class, too.
Forest rocked back and forth with excitement at the desk next to her, his hair swaying with the movement of his body. Hearing Josie talk about traveling was practically making him drool; after living his whole life in the trees, Forest wanted to see everything.
Olive’s dad hadn’t planned a trip (it was hard, since he had to work all the time), so Olive had written a speech about what she and Forest were going to do this summer. She had even typed up the speech on her dad’s computer to help her memorize it and put the title in all capital letters because capital letters are Special and Important.
“Olive be okay,” Forest whispered to her. He always knew when she was nervous. “You been saying speech while you sleep.”
“I have?” Olive whispered back.
“Forest heard from bedroom nest.” Forest had his own bed, but he preferred to sleep on a pile of shirts, pants, and dirty socks on top of Olive’s bookshelf, next to her bed. It reminded him of the cozy tree nook he had slept in at Redwood National Park, where Olive first met him. Thankfully, though, there were no chipmunks or squirrels or bugs in his new nest. At least, not that Olive knew of.…
Olive leaned way over. “Do you think I’ll mess up?”
“Not by a long snot,” Forest replied.
Her face lit up like a lightbulb. She didn’t even bother to correct him.
“And when we go to the Tornado Twister amusement park, the whole class is invited!” Josie said, finishing her speech with a flourish.
Whoops and cheers filled the room. Eric Keizer got so excited that he threw his pencil up, and with a thwack, it stuck in the ceiling. Some kids raised their hands in the air, like they were already riding the Tornado Twister. Forest, though, looked alarmed, most likely because he had no idea what an amusement park was, or that “tornado twister” was the name of an awesome roller coaster and not a natural disaster.
“Olive, I think you’re next,” said Mrs. Finn.
Olive nodded and walked to the front of the room, her hands trembling as she turned to face the class. Battling her shyness had gotten easier since she’d met Forest—she had even starred in the school play earlier this year—but speaking in front of people was still capital H Hard. When she cleared her throat, the noise came out more like a squeak.
Just when she finally felt ready to talk, her heart flapping like a crazed bird inside her chest, the door opened with a shriek and a bang. A tall, freckled shape appeared in the doorway.
Colton.
Late again. He was always disrupting Something Important.
It didn’t help that Colton was a bully. He had been calling her Sm-olive, like “small” and “Olive” mushed together. She didn’t mind being small for her age—she liked that she could fit into teeny-tiny tunnels on the playground, where she could read during recess, but the way Colton said it made her feel small.
Usually Olive went into quiet-mode when Colton was around. He couldn’t bother her if he didn’t notice her. But quiet-mode wouldn’t work when she was standing in front of the whole class, sticking out like a humongous sore thumb.
“Nice of you to join us, Colton,” Mrs. Finn said. “Olive was about to give her presentation.”
Pleasedon’tsayanythingPleasedon’tsayanythingPleasedon’tsayanything, Olive thought as Colton slowly walked to his seat.
“Sorry, Sm-olive,” he whispered with a jeer. His only friend in school, Benjamin, snickered.
Olive immediately flushed red, and her courage deflated like a balloon.
“Uh…,” she started, struggling to recite the speech she knew by heart. The words quickly melted in her mouth, like ice on a summer day.
Colton grinned widely, tipping way back in his chair so that only the back two legs were sitting on the floor. He was watching Olive’s embarrassment like it was his favorite movie. Olive’s jaw tightened as she heard whispers start to swirl around the room.
“Olive, would you like to sit down?” Mrs. Finn asked kindly.
“Olive okay, Mrs. Finn,” Forest called out. “Easy peasy, Olive.” When Mrs. Finn turned back to Olive, Colton flicked a folded-up piece of paper at Forest. Olive scowled.
“Easy peasy” was what her dad always said, even though it usually meant the exact opposite. Like last week when he tried to hang a picture above the stairs and ended up hammering right through the wall.
But Forest was right. Olive was not her dad trying to hammer a nail in the wall. She cleared her throat and stood up straight. Easy peasy.
“I’m Olive, and this—”
“Sm-olive!” Colton blurted.
“That’s enough, Colton,” Mrs. Finn scolded.
“He didn’t say anything!” Benjamin called out.
“Go ahead, OLIVE,” Josie said. She shot an angry look at Colton and Benjamin.
Olive’s body warmed with thankfulness for her friend Josie, and the warmth unglued her jaw. She was about to speak when a loud crunching noise came from Colton’s direction.
“Colton, I know you’re new at this school, so I’m giving you a break,” Mrs. Finn said. “But no snacks in the classroom.”
“But I don’t have a snack!” To prove it, Colton opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue—which, Olive noticed, was slightly more orange than normal. His face had the same kind of “wasn’t me” look Ryan gave their dad when he wanted to get out of trouble.
Olive gulped and started again. “I’m Olive, and—”
This time, Olive saw Colton’s hand dart from his pocket to his mouth before she heard the CRUNCH.
“Colton, please stop making noise. Olive give speech now,” Forest said. Colton’s face twisted with annoyance. Olive couldn’t help but smile a little.
“I’m Olive.”
“Sm-olive!” Colton whispered.
“This summer—”
Colton crunched on the snack again, even louder than the time before. It made Olive so nervous, she started to hiccup.
Forest stared at Olive, then at Colton, then back at Olive like he was trying to solve a puzzle. When Olive hiccupped again, Forest looked out the window, then made a bunch of low growling noises. Mrs. Finn, who was used to what she called Forest’s “random animal sounds” by now (though Olive knew they were never random), kept her eyes fixed on Olive, waiting for her to continue.
Normally, a tumble of sounds from Forest would make Olive nervous—he always had a surprise up his sleeve, and it was usually something that grown-ups didn’t like—but now, it was familiar and comforting.
“I’m Olive, and this summer…” She barreled through her speech—way faster than she wanted—but the important thing was that she was talking in front of the class. When she saw Colton waving a cheese curl in front of his face, she ignored him. She couldn’t ignore Forest, who was still making soft snarl sounds. Plus, he kept glancing out the window.…
And then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something really alarming—a sleek blur of black, gray, and white racing in through the window and along the classroom floor. The blur paused, and Olive got a good long look at it.
It got a good long look back at her.
This time, the words really fell out of her mouth.
A raccoon. Forest had called a raccoon into the classroom, and it was now sitting on its haunches next to Colton. Forest looked at the raccoon and nodded his head toward the cheese curl hidden in Colton’s hand. The raccoon stretched its thin, furry arm up—Colton was too busy taunting Olive to notice—but couldn’t reach Colton’s hand.
So the raccoon climbed up the back of Colton’s chair and hopped on top of Colton’s head, easily snatching the snack from between his fingers.
There was a second of complete silence before Colton rolled his eyes up to see the raccoon staring back at him. Then his high-pitched, terrified scream filled up the room.
“AHHHHHHHH-EEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
Colton flew out of his chair, knocking the desk over, which made the raccoon cling to his head to keep from falling off, which then made Colton run even faster. Forest started chasing them, too, trying to calm the raccoon down with soft growling noises. But the raccoon kept clutching Colton’s red hair with its strong, tiny paws, its eyes wide with fear.
Mrs. Finn repeated, “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.”
Colton ran around the room screaming some more.
Some people screamed with him.
Some people laughed.
Then everybody got up and ran.
Chapter
2
Everyone (even the janitor, Mrs. Lindsfutter, who was one of Forest’s closest friends) was talking about the Raccoon Incident in the hallway before lunch. People were talking about it even more than tomorrow’s Upper Grade Games, which Olive and the rest of the third-graders were finally old enough to play in. (The winners of the first event, the baseball game, got a pizza party.) They buzzed around Forest, who was sitting in his locker nest. It was woven from papers, pens, gum wrappers, and twigs.
“Forest, that was so cool! I can’t believe you got him to climb in the window!”
“Do you think the raccoon can be our new class pet?”
“Can we make it come into Mrs. Schwimmer’s class so we don’t have to do our math homework?”
“No,” Forest said sternly. “Rocky polite raccoon. Not interrupt learning. Just like snacks.”
As punishment for the Raccoon Incident, Mrs. Finn had threatened to make Forest sit out of the baseball game—but after Forest had calmed the quaking, frightened raccoon down, he had convinced him to help clean up the mess. (It turns out a raccoon’s tail is also a really good broom.) In spite of the almost-punishment, Olive thought it was absolutely hilarious to watch Colton run around the classroom with a raccoon stuck to his head. She had even finished her presentation after everything had calmed down. Colton was too busy glowering at Forest to interrupt her.
“Can you teach me how to make raccoons do that?” Lola Figueroa asked Forest.
“Rocky only want take snack so Olive could talk,” Forest said. “Then Colton scare him with scream like baby.”
Just then Beverly the lunch lady rushed by them, a bag of apples slung over her shoulder. It was time for lunch. Forest hopped up and out of his locker nest. He and Olive started to walk toward the cafeteria with a group of their classmates, who were arguing over what toppings they’d get on their pizza when they won the baseball game.
Mmm, pizza. Olive’s stomach was already grumbling.
“Forest! Forest!” Colton waved his arms at them from down the hallway. “I think one of your animal friends is stuck in my locker!”
Squaring his shoulders, Forest tossed his backpack to Olive and sprinted toward Colton’s locker like an Olympian, screeching to a halt next to him.
“Smell like animal,” he said, leaning into the locker. “But I don’t see—”
Colton body-bumped Forest into his locker, then slammed the door.
“Forest!” Olive cried. She rushed to him and, breathless, wrenched the locker door open.
Forest was curled up in the bottom, tucked under Colton’s giant red jacket, which had fallen on him. His huge pile of hair had toppled over his face. Olive scowled at Colton, whose eyes were darting back and forth along the hallway, and Benjamin, who was next to him, doubled-over in laughter.
She wanted to unleash an army of raccoons to carry Colton right out of school and far, far away.
Instead she said, “Are you okay?” and reached down to help Forest up.
Forest parted his hair—his eyes were shining, and he was smiling. Instead of taking Olive’s hand and climbing out, Forest burrowed deeper into Colton’s locker with his butt.
“No animals in here. Colton’s nest comfortable, but smelly,” Forest said, matter-of-factly. He plugged his nose with two fingers. “Forest recommend fewer dirty socks”—he tossed a sock out and it landed right on Benjamin’s face—“and less old tuna sandwich.” Forest plucked a tuna sandwich in a plastic bag from underneath him. The bread had a butt-cheek-shaped dent in it.
“Ugh!” Colton yelled, kicking the lockers next to them. “You’re so weird, Forest.” He stormed off toward the cafeteria, almost slipping on his own dirty sock, and practically kicked the doors open when he got there. “You better watch out, Forest and Sm-olive!” he called over his shoulder, just before the doors closed behind him.
Forest waved good-bye and happily bit into Colton’s tuna sandwich. Olive gulped—she had a feeling that Colton meant what he said.
They probably hadn’t seen the last of him. Not by a long snot.
Copyright © 2017 by Imprint
