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

me.
    I smiled slyly at Chipmunk, who was now staring at Sugar with his jaw practically dragging on the floor. Told you , I fired at him telepathically.
    â€œSorry,” I said meekly. “I figured I’d surprise him.” Mostly because I knew I’d chicken out if I thought about it too much, I added to myself. “Mom told me where you guys were. It’s not far at all.”
    â€œWell, let’s go see if he can get rid of some of these vultures! Marcelle.” She turned to Chipmunk. “You’ll be certain to let Ana up anytime she needs, right then?” she cooed innocently as she dragged me toward the elevator. She hit the top floor with a long, pink fingernail.
    â€œYour grandfather’s been so busy with all the press,” she said, checking her hair in the mirrored wall of the elevator. “He’s been lucky to have five minutes to himself! Go on in and ignore the circus. I have to find the little girls’ room!” she said when we’d finally arrived at the top.
    The swarm of people inside his hotel room nearly made me dizzy. Photographers, cameras, people yelling on phones, and tables of tiny sandwiches and coffee were everywhere. I couldn’t see Grandpa anywhere. I stumbled past a huge camera on wheels in the center of the room, folding and unfolding my note nervously.
    â€œExcuse me?” I asked a man with thick earphones around his neck. “I’m looking for my grandpa? Shep Foster?”
    He didn’t answer. Instead, he just pointed.
    I followed his finger to the huge wall at the back of the room. A bright white sheet was hanging from the ceiling, and Grandpa was posed in the center with a copy of his book in his hands as cameras flashed around him.
    â€œGrandpa!” I yelled, making my way over to him.
    He noticed me right away, his eyes lighting up. “Ana banana!” He shouted over the noise. “Sorry, everyone! I need a minute to see my granddaughter!” He bounded over to me, nearly plowing into a guy holding a microphone, and gave me a hug.
    â€œIt’s so great to see you! You should have called!” he said, ruffling my hair.
    I tried to ignore the annoyed looks around us. It was clear I was intruding, but how was I supposed to know he’d be doing a photo shoot like some model? I opened the note in my hand and read my first question.
    â€œI was wondering if I could ask you for some help,” I said. I didn’t want to talk to him like this, all rushed in front of people. But it was my only chance to get some advice. “Say if I wanted to be like you,” I stammered. “Or like Mom. How would I be brave like that? You know, when you speak in public and do presentations? Is there something you do to make sure you don’t mess up?” My hands shook as I held the note tight.
    Grandpa narrowed his eyes. “Brave? You are brave! You’re part of this family, aren’t ya?” he joked, helping himself to a swig of coffee from a tiny cup.
    â€œHey, Shep!” a man with a phone stuck to his ear yelled from across the room. “Can we wrap this up? You’ve got the next interview in five!” He gave me a pointed look that made my skin crawl.
    â€œSorry,” I muttered. “I didn’t know it would be so busy. It’s no big deal.” I backed away toward the door, eager to get away from all the cameras. Thankfully none of them were taking pictures of me in my dirty shorts and T-shirt.
    Grandpa gave me another hug. “It’s a busy time right now, that’s all,” he explained. “Maybe we can chat again later? Oh! But before you go.” He stepped over to a tattered duffel bag by the window. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you.” He pulled out a tattered book and handed it to me.
    â€œA book?” I asked. It looked ancient, with worn corners and stains all over it. I wanted to bolt from that busy room, but curiosity got the best