Free Once Upon a Toad by Heather Vogel Frederick Page A

Peanut, his family’s dachshund. I blushed, acutely aware of how stupid I must look in my bunny jammies and dust-covered robe. I might not have a crush on Connor the way Olivia and Piper did, but still, who wanted to get caught looking like this, let alone holding a bag full of indignant toads?
    I maneuvered the duffel behind me and waved back as casually as I could.
    â€œBetter hurry if you’re going to catch the bus,” he called.
    No way was I opening my mouth to reply. The stupid bunny jammies were bad enough. Toads would be a disaster. I made a face and pointed at my throat, then mimed coughing.
    â€œToo bad. Well, hope you’re feeling better in time for the talentshow tomorrow night. I heard you guys practicing last week—you sounded really good.”
    I gave him a thumbs-up. He tugged on Peanut’s leash and the two of them headed inside. “See ya in band!” he called, shutting the door behind him.
    Connor Dixon played the saxophone. Technically, the saxophone is a woodwind like the bassoon, since they’re both reed instruments, but unlike the bassoon, the saxophone is one of the cool instruments, like the trumpet or the drums. Those are the instruments of choice for the popular boys. The only one lower than the bassoon on the bandie food chain is the tuba.
    I stepped off the deck. My slippers sank into the wet ground. Squelching my way across the soggy grass, I headed for the enormous rhododendron bush at the far edge of my dad’s property, the one Geoffrey loves to play under. Last summer I’d helped him build a fort inside it.
    Ducking under the branches, I felt myself relax for the first time all morning. I was finally safe—out of sight and sound of anyone in our house or the Dixons’.
    I squatted down and unzipped the duffel bag. “Hi, guys,” I said, adding a new toad to the ranks. I turned the bag upside down and watched as they scrambled to freedom. As I stood up again, my bathrobe wiggled. I’d forgotten about the one still in my pocket. I scooped it out and set it down, and it hopped off after the others.
    That took care of the first action item on my to-do list. Next up, I needed to get ahold of my mother, or A.J., or both. One of them would know what to do. I squelched my way back toward the house.
    â€œWhere have you been?” my father asked as I came in,startling me. He lifted an eyebrow at my muddy slippers.
    Thinking fast, I grabbed a pad of paper from the counter by the phone, along with the pen beside it. Needed a little fresh air, I wrote. Not feeling too well.
    His brow furrowed in concern. “Really? What’s the matter, Kit-Cat?”
    I gestured at my neck and grimaced, then scribbled again. Sore throat. I think I have laryngitis.
    He patted my shoulder. “Maybe you should go back to bed. I have to call the school anyway—your sister’s staying home too.”
    As I turned to go, a toad hopped out from behind the refrigerator.
    â€œOh, for heaven’s sake,” said my dad in disgust. “Geoffrey!”
    I scooted upstairs, feeling like a traitor. One good thing about having a little brother is that you can blame all sorts of things on him, including stray toads.
    Olivia wasn’t in our room. I heard the shower running and hoped she’d save me some hot water, as I was covered with attic dust. I could only imagine what my hair looked like. I fished my cell phone out of my backpack and was just turning it on to text A.J. when Iz came in.
    â€œSorry, sweetie, but we’re a cell-phone-free zone this morning,” she told me, plucking it from my hand. “Your dad says you’re not feeling well.” She pressed the palm of her other hand against my forehead. “Hmmm. You do feel a little warm.” She inspected me, her forehead crinkling with concern. “What’s with all this dust?”
    I shrugged, swatted at the streaks on my bathrobe, and she sighed. “Nevermind.