How to Outrun a Crocodile When Your Shoes Are Untied by Jess Keating

back to that day, watching Mom talk about iguanas in front of my whole class. Then I remembered the buzzing feeling of talking to Beatrix.
    A flicker of hope fluttered over my heart.
    Staring at the mirror again, I plastered on my widest smile. I tried to focus on how it had felt talking to Beatrix about Louie the crocodile, getting to feel that rush of knowing someone was learning something cool because of me. I stood taller and gestured broadly as I imagined that I was my mom, standing in front of a huge crowd. I took a deep, shaky breath.
    â€œThis is the green iguana,” I whispered to my imaginary crowd. The buzz of excitement started to surge through me. Darwin watched me with interest, tilting his head. Perching my green hairbrush on my outstretched arm, I closed my eyes. Already, the facts that I knew about iguanas lined themselves up in my head, like they wanted to be known.
    And like they wanted me to tell people about them.
    I imagined that I was brave and proud like my mom. I tried to pretend the crowd didn’t bother me, so I could enjoy that feeling of getting to teach someone something amazing. But almost instantly, the excitement morphed into fear.
    That tight feeling clamped onto my chest. And squeezed .
    My imaginary crowd sneered at me, laughing at how stupid I looked. How weird I was.
    Thunk .
    The hairbrush toppled to the floor as I flinched.
    My eyes snapped open. Reflection-me was bright red, with a look of panic in her eyes.
    â€œAna banana,” Darwin whistled. “Iguana banana!”
    I shot him a look as he chattered happily. My heart buckled with disappointment; even imaginary crowds turned me to mush.
    â€œPerspective,” I said to Darwin. Willing myself not to give up, I picked the hairbrush up from the floor and set it back on my desk. Darwin fluffed his feathers and glared at me. It was past his bedtime. “I need some help finding a new perspective.”
    Tomorrow, I thought, as I got into bed and pulled the covers up to my cheeks. I’ll get some help tomorrow.
    I knew just who to ask.

chapter 7
    â€œArmadillos sleep for an average of eighteen and a half hours a day.”
    â€”Animal Wisdom
    Luuuuuccckkyyyyyyy.
    The manager of Grandpa’s fancy hotel had a face that looked like a chipmunk and teeth to match.
    â€œ Oui? How may I help you today?” He sniffed and looked down at me over his runty nose as I stood there awkwardly. I hadn’t realized it was a swanky hotel, or I would have worn something nicer than my old work shorts from the zoo and a sloppy T-shirt. Ladies in slick business suits bustled around me, clicking their heels on the marble floor. The smell of waffles drifted through the air, and a man in a black suit was plinking away on a piano in the corner.
    â€œI’m looking for someone,” I said, shifting my feet. “He’s supposed to be on the top floor? In room 602?”
    Chipmunk Face blinked a few times. “I’m afraid that floor is entirely booked by a private party. If you would give me your name, then I can leave a message.” He went back to his computer, tap-tap-tapping away.
    I clenched a note in my hand, scribbled with the list of questions I’d hoped to ask Grandpa about presenting and public speaking. “Please, I’m here to see Shep Foster. He wouldn’t like it if you made me wait around.” I tried to sound like Mom did when she didn’t want to be messed with.
    He laughed without looking up from his computer screen. “Oh, is that so? Well, I suggest you—”
    â€œAna doll!” someone shouted from the foyer. Chipmunk and I turned to find the voice.
    Sugar stepped around the corner, beaming at us. Her hair was piled into a loose bun on top of her head and dangly feather earrings swayed at her chin. “What are you doing here, sweetheart? If Shep knew you were coming, he would have canceled his interviews!” She rushed over and wrapped her arms around