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

of me as I thumbed through the pages. Little sketches of reptiles and birds peered back at me, drawn with wispy pencil lines. There were even close-up details of scales, feathers, and claws. It was cool .
    â€œIt’s only some doodles from when I was a kid,” he said. “But your mom said you like to draw too, so I thought it would be nice to pass along to you.”
    I paused at an ancient Polaroid photo taped inside the cover, of a young boy holding a baby crocodile with a crowd of scared kids in the background. Grandpa with a crocodile. A sharp pang of realization stung me like a jellyfish.
    I was stupid for coming here.
    Grandpa had always been brave.
    There was no point asking him for help. He wouldn’t get it. It would be like asking Sugar for help looking pretty. What’s the point if it came naturally to them?
    â€œShep!” the man yelled again.
    â€œSorry, sorry!” I said, holding the book to my chest. “I’ll leave. Thanks for the book, Grandpa,” I said over my shoulder as I scooted to the door.
    I threw my note in the garbage on my way out.

    Escape. Retreat. Flee.
    I had to get out of there.
    After rushing home from that snooty hotel, I paced around my room. I’d seen some animals pace in their cages at the zoo before. Was it because they felt stuck too? Why had I even bothered trying to ask him, anyway?
    Snatching the question sheet for my art project from under my bed, I stared at Bella’s phone number. She’d written it in the corner, in case I ever wanted to hang out to work on our projects. Usually when I needed to escape, I went to Liv’s. But that wasn’t an option now.
    I took a deep breath and dialed Bella’s number. Please be there.
    â€œHello?” she answered on the first ring.
    â€œHey, Bella?” I said. “It’s me. Uh, Ana. Did you want to meet up at the library and work on our art projects?” I tried to ignore how lame that sounded on a weekend afternoon.
    â€œSure! I’m finishing lunch right now, but I can meet in half an hour!” Her voice sounded different on the phone. Happier and bouncier. “We should work in the art section,” she added. “Maybe some of the artistic genius will rub off on us.”
    I grinned into the phone as I swept my supplies, some poster board, and my animal drawings together, piling everything into my backpack. A wave of relief swept through me as I texted Mom to let her know where I was headed. Seriously, how did people escape their lives before libraries?
    When I made it to the library, I slipped past the book stacks and found Bella at a table under a painting of a swirling blue sky over some houses. It felt so good to escape from the rest of the world and surround myself with quiet, safe books. Books didn’t expect anything of you, and they didn’t even care that you weren’t super confident like the rest of your crazy family.
    â€œDa Vinci?” I asked, pointing to the painting.
    Bella shifted to look. “Van Gogh,” she said. A sheepish look crossed over her face. “I only know that because I read the little plaque before you got here.”
    â€œSorry I’m late,” I said. “We have relatives visiting.” I pulled out my animal drawings and spread them on the table. Bella’s project was a lot of maps, with red spots dotting the landscapes. “What’s with the maps?”
    She beamed. “My true self right now loves maps. Something cool happened in all these places, and I want to visit them all.” She pointed to a dot. “This is where Alexander the Great lived.” Her eyes twinkled with mystery. “I think he’s pretty awesome too.”
    â€œCool.” I showed her my animal drawings. “I think my true self right now is surrounded by animals.” I didn’t mind telling Bella the truth about that much.
    â€œYou’re really good,” she said, inspecting my drawings.