Biggie and the other guys rushed to congratulate Conan, laughing and cheering.
Mr. Murphy had to get a stepladder to help Evan down.
His hand on Evan’s shoulder, the teacher led him to the side. “You’re just not tall enough, Evan,” he said, rubbing his pink chin. “Don’t take it personally. Maybe you’ll grow. But for now, you’re just not tall enough.”
Evan didn’t say a word. He lowered his head and sadly slumped out of the gym.
Conan came running up to him at the door. “Hey, Evan, no hard feelings,” he said. He stuck out his big, sweaty hand. “Shake.”
* * *
Evan held up his hand to show Andy.
“It looks like a wilted petunia,” she said.
“I can’t believe I fell for Conan’s stupid handshake trick twice!” Evan wailed.
It was the next afternoon. Evan and Andy had walked from school to the small park near their houses. Evan had complained about Mr. Murphy and Conan and the other basketball players the whole way.
The late afternoon sun beamed down on them as they walked. Andy stopped to watch two monarch butterflies, their black-and-gold wings fluttering majestically as they hovered over a patch of blue and yellow wildflowers along the creekbed.
Even the trickling brown creek looked pretty on this bright day. Tiny white gnats sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight over the shimmering water.
Evan kicked at a fallen tree branch. Everything looked dark to him today.
Dark and ugly.
“It just wasn’t fair,” he grumbled, kicking the branch again. “It wasn’t a fair tryout. Mr. Murphy should have given me a better chance.”
Andy tsk-tsked, her eyes on the sparkling creek.
“Someone should teach Mr. Murphy a lesson,” Evan said. “I wish I could think of some way of paying him back. I really do.”
Andy turned to him. A devilish grin crossed her face. “I have a plan,” she said softly. “A really neat plan.”
“What is it?” Evan demanded.
“What’s your idea?” Evan demanded again.
Andy grinned at him. She was wearing a long, lime-green T-shirt over a Day-Glo orange T-shirt, pulled down over baggy blue shorts. The sunlight made all the colors so bright, Evan felt like shielding his eyes.
“You might not like it,” Andy said coyly.
“Try me,” Evan replied. “Come on. Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Well …” Her eyes wandered over to the tree where they had buried the Monster Blood. “It has to do with the Monster Blood,” she said reluctantly.
He swallowed hard. “That’s okay. Go on.”
“Well, it’s a pretty simple plan. First, we dig up the Monster Blood,” Andy said, watching his reaction.
“Yeah?”
“Then we take some to school,” she continued.
“Yeah?”
“Then we feed it to Cuddles.”
Evan’s mouth dropped open.
“Just a little bit!” Andy quickly explained. “We feed Cuddles a tiny glob of it. Just enough to make him the size of a dog.”
Evan laughed. It was a terrible idea, a truly evil idea—but he loved it!
He slapped Andy on the back. “You’re bad, Andy!” he cried. “You’re really bad!”
Andy grinned proudly. “I know.”
Evan laughed again. “Can you see the look on Murphy’s face when he comes in and sees his precious little hamster has grown as big as a cocker spaniel? What a riot!”
“So you’ll do it?” Andy asked.
Evan’s smile faded. “I guess,” he replied thoughtfully. “If you promise we’ll only use a tiny bit. And we’ll bury the rest right away.”
“Promise,” Andy said. “Just enough to play our little joke on Mr. Murphy. Then we’ll never use the stuff again.”
