“Stop him! Grab the hamster!” Evan shouted desperately.

But the kids only laughed.

“Know how to catch him?” a joker named Robbie Greene called to Evan. “Make a sound like a sunflower seed!”

“That’s an old joke!” a girl called to Robbie.

“Thanks for your help!” Evan shouted sarcastically. He ran over the pitching mound and had crossed second base when he realized he had lost sight of Cuddles.

He stopped and spun around, his heart thudding wildly in his chest. He searched the grass of the infield. “Where—where is he?” he stammered. “Do you see him?”

But the kids had returned to their soft-ball game.

I can’t lose him now! Evan told himself, choked with panic. I can’t!

Sweat poured down Evan’s forehead. He mopped it with one hand, brushing back his curly, red hair. His T-shirt clung wetly to his back. His mouth felt dry as cotton.

Jogging into the outfield, he searched the grass.

“Cuddles?”

No sign of him.

A round, brownish lump in the grass turned out to be someone’s baseball glove.

“Cuddles?”

A kickball game was underway on the opposite diamond. Kids were shouting and cheering. Evan saw Bree Douglas, a girl from his class, slide hard into second base just before the ball.

“Has—has anyone seen Cuddles?” Evan gasped, trotting onto the diamond.

Kids turned to gawk at him.

“Out here?” Bree called, brushing off the knees of her jeans. “Evan, did you take the hamster out for a walk?”

Everyone laughed. Scornful laughter.

“He—he got away,” Evan replied, panting.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” a familiar voice called.

Evan turned to see Conan Barber, a pleased smile on his handsome face, his blue eyes gleaming.

Gripping it by its furry back, Conan held the hamster up in one hand. Cuddles’s four legs scurried in midair.

“You—you caught him!” Evan cried gratefully. He let out a long sigh of relief. “He jumped out the window.”

Evan reached out both hands for the hamster, but Conan jerked Cuddles out of his reach. “Prove it’s yours,” Conan said, grinning.

“Huh?”

“Can you identify it?” Conan demanded, his eyes burning into Evan’s, challenging Evan. “Prove this hamster is yours.”

Evan swallowed hard and glanced around.

Kids from the kickball game were huddling near. They were all grinning, delighted with Conan’s mean joke.

Evan sighed wearily and reached again for the hamster.

But Conan was at least a foot taller than Evan. He lifted the hamster high above Evan’s head, out of Evan’s reach.

“Prove it’s yours,” he repeated, flashing the others a grin.

“Give me a break, Conan,” Evan pleaded. “I’ve been chasing this stupid hamster for hours. I just want to get him back in his cage before Mr. Murphy—”

“Do you have a license for him?” Conan demanded, still holding the squirming hamster above Evan’s head. “Show me the license.”

Evan jumped and stretched both hands up, trying to grab Cuddles away.

But Conan was too fast for him. He dodged away. Evan grabbed air.

Some kids laughed.

“Give him the hamster, Conan,” Bree called. She hadn’t moved from second base.

Conan’s cold blue eyes sparkled excitedly. “I’ll tell you how you can get the hamster back,” he told Evan.

“Huh?” Evan glared at him. He was getting really tired of Conan’s game.

“Here’s how to get old Cuddles back,” Conan continued, holding the hamster tightly against his chest in one hand and petting its back with the other. “Sing a song for it.”

“Hey—no way!” Evan snapped. “Give it to me, Conan!”

Evan could feel his face growing even hotter. His knees started to tremble. He hoped no one could see it.

“Sing ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat,’ and I’ll give you Cuddles. Promise,” Conan said, smirking.

Some kids laughed. They moved closer, eager to see what Evan would do.

Evan shook his head. “No way.”

“Come on,” Conan urged softly, stroking the hamster’s brown fur. “ ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat.’ Just a few choruses. You know how it goes, don’t you?”

More cruel laughter from the others.

Conan’s grin grew wider. “Come on, Evan. You like to sing, don’t you?”

“No, I hate singing,” Evan muttered, his eyes on Cuddles.