Contents

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One: Feeling Blue

Chapter Two: Keep Reading

Chapter Three: Ciao

Chapter Four: School or No School

Chapter Five: The Show Must Go On

Chapter Six: Fancy Seeing You Here

Chapter Seven: Nothing to See Here

Chapter Eight: I Cannot Tell a Lie

Chapter Nine: Thieves

Chapter Ten: Animal Control

Chapter Eleven: Cheese and Crackers

Chapter Twelve: All Together Now

Chapter Thirteen: A Whale of a Time

Chapter Fourteen: In the Belly of a Whale-Shark

Chapter Fifteen: Hello, Again

Chapter Sixteen: Splintered

Sneak Peek at Best Wishes #4: Like A Boss

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Read all the Whatever After books!

Copyright

I have the best weekend plans,” Penny announces on Thursday afternoon. We’re standing outside our school, waiting to be picked up, along with my two best friends, Robin and Frankie.

I try not to roll my eyes. Penny always has the best weekend plans. Penny always has the best everyday plans. Penny is Robin’s other best friend.

“My mom and I are having a spa day,” Penny goes on, tossing her blond ponytail. “Manicures and pedicures and dinner at my favorite restaurant.”

I have to admit that sounds fun. Frankie and Robin and I gave each other pedicures at our last sleepover. I wiggle my toes inside my sneakers. My toenails are still sparkly green.

“What about your weekend plans?” Penny asks, looking from Robin to Frankie to me.

“I’m not sure yet,” I say. But I probably won’t be visiting a fairy tale.

Why would anyone visit a fairy tale? Well, I have a magic mirror in my basement. Yes, really! This was how it used to work: At midnight, when my little brother, Jonah, and I knocked on the glass once, the mirror started to hiss. When we knocked twice, it turned purple. Three times, it sucked us inside … and took us into a fairy tale. We’ve been to Cinderella and Little Red Riding Hood and The Twelve Dancing Princesses and more. We’ve also been inside books, like Peter Pan, though the mirror didn’t take us there.

Hardly anyone else knows about the magic mirror, except for Penny. (It’s a long story.)

But then the fairy who was trapped inside our mirror — Maryrose — escaped! And now the magic doesn’t seem to work without her. I tried knocking on the mirror the other night, and nothing happened. I’m glad Maryrose isn’t trapped anymore, but I definitely miss going on adventures.

“What are we doing this weekend?” I ask Frankie and Robin, who are both being strangely quiet. The three of us make plans together most weekends. Sometimes with Penny, too, if Robin insists. Plans for sleepovers. Study dates. Cookie decorating. Previously mentioned pedicures.

Tomorrow is Friday, so it would be nice to decide now.

“Well,” Robin says, brushing her curly strawberry-blond hair behind her shoulders. Is it just my imagination or do she and Frankie both look a little nervous? “Frankie and I are doing something kind of cool.”

Wait — they are?

“Ooh, what?” I ask, confused. Why don’t I know about these kind of cool plans?

Frankie glances at Robin. She bites her lip. She pushes her red glasses up on her nose.

“Robin and I are going camping with my family,” Frankie finally answers. She looks at me worriedly.

“Camping?” I repeat.

Huh?

“Camping — blech!” Penny exclaims. “Raccoons trying to steal your food? Blisters on your feet from hiking? Hard pass.” She points to a pink spot on her arm, frowning. “See this? It’s a mosquito bite! I got it from just sitting in my backyard. Can you imagine how many bites you’ll get from camping?”

She’s not wrong. I get itchy just thinking about mosquitoes. And I don’t love the idea of having to go to the bathroom in the woods. But there are fun parts of camping, too, right? Like sleeping in a tent. Seeing all the stars against the black sky. Telling stories around the campfire. Making s’mores.

Mmm. S’mores. Toasting the marshmallow on the open fire, then squishing it between two crunchy graham crackers with a piece of chocolate that gets all melty. Ah, that first delicious bite … And once you have one, you want some more! Ha!

Ooh, I’m so excited! Where is my sleeping bag? We’re going camping! Do I even have a sleeping bag?

I wait for Frankie and Robin to invite me. Camping, here I come!

I look at Frankie and Robin. Any second now, I’m sure they’ll ask me to join them on their camping trip.

Nothing yet.

I wait another few seconds.

But they’re not saying anything.

“I wish you could come camping with us, Abby,” Robin says at last.

Wait, what?

My stomach sinks.

I’m not going?

I could go. I would go. If anyone asked me. Why is no one asking me?

Frankie’s cheeks are flushed. “It’s just that my parents said I could invite only one friend,” she explains, giving me an apologetic look. “And I didn’t think you liked camping, so …”

So she asked Robin.

But … but …

Okay, maybe camping isn’t my dream activity. But it still would have been nice to be asked!

And I would have said yes. Yes to blisters and bug bites and sleeping outside with raccoons. Because I love spending time with Frankie and having adventures. And I thought I was her number one friend. I know she’s besties with Robin, too, but Robin has Penny. Frankie has me.

But I’m not invited. Because Frankie chose Robin instead of me.

I swallow hard. Being left out is the worst.

“I’m sorry, Abby. Are you upset?” Frankie asks me.

“No, not at all,” I say quickly. Yes, I’m lying, but I don’t want my friends to know how sad I am. I just want to pretend everything is okay instead of having a whole super-awkward talk about it. “I’m totally fine!” I insist.

“You sure?” Robin asks.

“Definitely,” I say, forcing a big smile onto my face. “I need to … um … clean out my closet this weekend anyway.”

I see my dad’s car pull up in the pickup line right as my brother comes racing out of the school. Perfect — just in time to make a fast getaway.

I wave good-bye to Frankie, Robin, and Penny. Then I hurry into my dad’s car.

At least I know what I’ll be doing this weekend: wishing I was on that camping trip.

*  *  *

I don’t talk to Jonah or my dad in the car, and the minute we get home, I run upstairs. I don’t even rummage in the fridge or pantry for a snack first.

I have zero appetite.

I walk into my room and sigh. Frankie and Robin are probably on video chat right now, discussing s’mores and sleeping bags.

Without me.

I feel so … sad.

Excluded.

My eyes get misty, like I might cry.

Maybe I should have told my friends how I really feel. Aren’t you supposed to be honest with the people you’re close to?

But what would have been the point? It wasn’t like they would have changed their plans. And I didn’t want to make them feel bad.

Let them think I’m looking forward to cleaning instead.

I glance inside my closet as I pass by. It is pretty messy. A bunch of dolls and clothes are piled on the floor. I notice my old Cali Doll in the pile and lean down to pick her up. I give her a hug. It’s been a long time since I’ve played with her. She used to be my favorite.

“You’d invite me camping, right?” I ask her.

She totally would.

If only she were real.

My parents gave me the doll when I started kindergarten, back when we lived in Naperville. She has big brown eyes and her dark hair is in a side ponytail. Her arms and legs and torso are made out of cloth so she’s soft and cuddly. She’s wearing a T-shirt, jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers. My usual outfit! She also has a little green backpack with her name on it: Raina.

The information sheet she came with said that Raina is a student from California. I love that there’s a tiny notebook, pencil, textbook, and even a little apple in the backpack.

I put her on my bookshelf and frown.

I know I’m super sad when even my Cali Doll can’t cheer me up.

I’m about to fling myself onto my bed when I notice that something is fluttering on top of Raina’s head.

Something tiny.

What is that?

I step closer. Is it a mosquito?

Are those wings?

A butterfly? No. It has a face, which means … it’s a fairy.

“Hello?” I say.

You’d think I’d be surprised to see a fairy in my room, but I’m not. This is the third time I’ve had a fairy in here.

Yup, that’s right. My third visiting fairy. It’s almost like I’m running a fairy hotel.

The first fairy was Maryrose (who used to live in my basement mirror). The second fairy was Tinkerbell (from Peter Pan). Maryrose and Tink are actually together right now, traveling the world. At least, I think that’s what they’re doing. Maryrose said she’d be back, but it’s been two weeks since I’ve seen her.

I don’t know who this fairy is, though. I’d say she’s a little older than my mom, in her late forties. She has long silky blue hair and she’s wearing a sparkly silver dress and matching sandals. Her eyes are a glowing turquoise, like the color of the sea, or the hula hoops we have in gym class.

“Hello, Abby!” the fairy says. “I need your help!”

So this fairy knows my name. But how? And why?

“What’s your name?” I ask her.

“I’m Celeste,” she answers. “Also known as the Blue Fairy.” That makes total sense, given her hair and eyes.

“And you need my help?” I ask.

Celeste nods. “I heard that you have a lot of experience helping out in stories. A friend of mine is in trouble. Can I count on you?”

I puff up a little. I love that I have a reputation of being helpful in stories. “I am pretty good at that,” I respond. “Who did you hear that from?”

“From Maryrose.”

Oh, yay! “You know Maryrose?”

Celeste nods again. “Most of us fairies know each other.”

I have so many questions. Where is Maryrose? Is she with Tink? Are they coming back? Are they okay?

But first — who is Celeste?

I think of all the fairy tales and stories my nana used to read me, but I can’t recall a blue fairy in any of them.

“Which fairy tale are you from?” I ask her.

“I’m from a book,” Celeste answers, her eyes sparkling. “The Adventures of Pinocchio!”

“Pinocchio?” I repeat. “You mean the puppet whose nose grows when he tells a lie?” I try to remember that story. I’ve seen some of the movies.

Her face brightens. “Yes! But that’s only a small part of the story. You’ve never read the book?”

“No. I can get it from the school library tomorrow and read it then,” I say.

Celeste sighs and throws up her tiny hands. “There’s no time for that!” Then she swishes her hair back and forth.

A hardcover book suddenly appears in my hand. It’s old. Heavy. Gold lettering on the cover spells out The Adventures of Pinocchio.

Oh! Fun. Fairy power.

“Thanks,” I say, flipping through the book. I definitely won’t be able to read it all tonight, but I can start. I put it on my bed.

Then I hear footsteps and someone calling my name. My brother, Jonah, dashes into my room with our super-sweet and adorable dog, Prince, at his heels.

Jonah doesn’t notice the fairy. Prince does, and starts barking at Celeste, but Jonah shushes him.

“Abby, I have a very important question,” Jonah says.

“I’m kind of busy here,” I tell him.

He ignores me. “Do you think dogs like ketchup?” he asks.

I sigh. “I have no idea,” I tell him.

“You must be Jonah,” Celeste says.

Jonah’s eyes widen. He spins around, looking for the source of the voice.

“Um, who said that?” he asks.

“I did!” Celeste responds as she flies in front of him, hovering in the air. “I’m Celeste, the blue fairy from The Adventures of Pinocchio!”

Jonah’s eyes light up. “Pinocchio? The boy with the nose that grows when he tells a lie?”

“He starts off as a puppet, not a boy. And there’s more to the story than his nose,” she says, sounding kind of testy. “Anyway, I really need both of you to help me out with Pinocchio. Can you come into the story? Your dog can come, too.”

“Yay!” Jonah says, and Prince barks happily.

Hmm. What are we getting ourselves into? “You haven’t read the story of Pinocchio, have you?” I ask Jonah, pointing to the book on my bed.

“Nope,” he says. “But it sounds fun. Are we going through the mirror?”

Wait wait wait. I cross my arms over my chest and look back at Celeste. “How do we know you’re for real? You could be trying to trick or trap us.”

This wouldn’t be the first time I mistakenly trusted a fairy.

Celeste swishes her blue hair back and forth. A white envelope pops into my hand.

Oh! It’s addressed to Abby and Jonah.

I open the envelope. A shimmery silver piece of paper is folded inside. I unfold it. It’s from Maryrose! It has her signature at the bottom.

Dear Abby and Jonah,

You can trust Celeste. She’s a friend. I thought you might be able to help her, if you don’t mind!

Love,

Maryrose

“Cool!” Jonah exclaims.

It is cool, but how can we be sure this letter is really from Maryrose? What if it’s a fake?

“What exactly do you need help with?” I ask Celeste.

“Pinocchio doesn’t want to go to school,” she explains. “And it’s really important that he go.”

Well, yeah. School is important. It’s where you learn things that will help you as you grow up. For example, I want to be a judge when I grow up. But to do that you have to go to a lot of school, including something called law school. I know all about it because my parents are lawyers.

“Maryrose said that you and Jonah like school,” Celeste continues. “And that you two would be the perfect people to help.”

I glance at Jonah. We mostly like school. Jonah likes recess and lunch. I like learning stuff. And of course I like seeing my friends.

When they’re not ditching me to go on a camping trip.

Hmph.

Maybe I need a distraction. Going into a story might be just the thing …

It would be more fun than cleaning my closet.

“I need you to convince Pinocchio to go to school,” Celeste tells us. “Then all the pain and suffering of the story won’t happen.”

I swallow. “What pain and suffering?”

“Lots of bad stuff,” Celeste says, looking upset. “People go to prison; people get hurt.”

“Yikes,” I say, exchanging a worried look with Jonah. “But I thought Pinocchio had a happy ending?”

Celeste sighs. “The ending of the story is happy but it takes forever to get there. I met up with Maryrose and Tink and told them my predicament. Maryrose suggested that you and Jonah might be able to shorten the story, which would make life a little easier for everyone. Pinocchio, his father — Geppetto — and me. What do you think? Will you help?”

Hmm. Every time I go into a story, there are a lot of obstacles to get through. And sometimes, Jonah and I mess up the story and we have to fix it so it can end happily. But this would be the first time we’d go into a story when it already ends happily and we just need to shorten it.

“Please come,” Celeste adds. “I’ll open the mirror in the basement of your house at midnight. And I hope you’ll both go through it.”

Ohhh, she can do that?

Can all fairies do that? How do I know if she’s good or evil? How long will we have to stay in the story?

But before I can ask another question, Celeste swishes her blue hair back and forth.

And disappears.

Jonah pumps his fist in the air. “Yes! We’re going to meet Pinocchio!”

“Not for sure,” I say. I look at the book on my bed. If we’re going into a story, we should know what to expect. “Let’s find out what happens before making any decisions.”

I sit down on the bed and open  The Adventures of Pinocchio. It was written by Carlo Collodi back in 1883. Jonah plops beside me and Prince jumps onto his lap.

“Once upon a time there was a boy named Pinocchio,” Jonah says, before I can start reading.

“It doesn’t start that way because it’s not a fairy tale,” I remind him. “It’s a book. Like The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.”

“Got it,” Jonah says.

I skim the first few pages. There are illustrations, too.

“Okay, I’ll sum up what happens as best I can,” I say. “The story takes place in a small village. A carpenter has a block of wood he plans to carve into furniture but all of a sudden, the piece of wood starts talking.”

“What does it say?” Jonah asks. “‘I miss my brother, the branch’?”

“Ha ha. No. The wood is afraid it might hurt to get carved into a piece of furniture.”

Jonah nods seriously. “That does sound painful.”

“The carpenter gets really freaked out by the talking wood,” I continue. “So when a woodcarver named Geppetto comes by, the carpenter gives the talking wood to him.”

“Does Geppetto get freaked out, too?” Jonah asks.

“At first,” I say. “But then he decides to make a marionette out of the wood.”

“A what?”

“A marionette,” I say. “A wooden puppet with strings attached to its arms and legs and ears so that the puppeteer can make it move. Geppetto carves a face. And then arms. Legs. And when the marionette is done, Geppetto names him Pinocchio. And then they’re a family.”

“That’s nice,” Jonah says with a smile. “Maybe they’ll get a dog next!”

Prince wags his tail. Woof!

“I don’t think there’s a dog in the story,” I say, flipping through the pages. “Lots of other animals, though …”

“Then what happens?” Jonah asks.

“Well, as soon as Geppetto makes a pair of feet for Pinocchio and attaches them, Pinocchio runs right out of the house. Geppetto tries to catch him, but Pinocchio is too fast.”

Jonah grins. “No way. Where does Pinocchio go?”

“He runs around the town. He wants to have adventures and lots of fun. But then he gets hungry and tired and decides to go back home. But Geppetto isn’t there. Only a talking cricket.”

Jonah bounces on my bed. “Oh, oh, I remember him from the movie! Jiminy Cricket!”

“Yup,” I say, reading as quickly as I can. “Although he’s not called that in the book. Maybe just in the movies? Anyway, Pinocchio tells the cricket that he’s afraid Geppetto will make him go to school tomorrow. And that he’s going to run away! But the cricket tells him that he should go to school.”

“Does he go?” Jonah asks.

“I don’t think so. Because otherwise, Celeste wouldn’t need us, right?” I flip ahead a few more pages. “Pinocchio tells the cricket he only wants to play. But the cricket insists Pinocchio listen to him. Pinocchio wants the cricket to stop talking about school. So he throws something at him. And the cricket … dies.” Yikes.

Jonah frowns. “The book really kills off Jiminy Cricket?”

“I guess so.” I shudder. Sometimes the original stories and fairy tales are a little … grim.

Jonah shudders, too. “Poor cricket. Does Pinocchio feel bad at least?”

“He does,” I say, reading on. “Then Geppetto comes home. Pinocchio promises he’ll be a good boy and go to school the next day. But he realizes he needs something.”

“What?” Jonah asks, eyes wide.

“An ABC book,” I respond. “A spelling book, maybe? But Geppetto is so poor that he can’t afford to buy it. So he sells his only coat to get the book for Pinocchio.”

“Aww, he cares about Pinocchio!”

I nod. I keep scanning the pages. “The next day, Pinocchio starts walking to school. But before he gets there, he hears music. He’s so curious that he follows the sound. He ends up in a building by the sea. It’s the Great Marionette Theater.”

“Pinocchio is a marionette!” Jonah says.

“Right,” I confirm. “He really wants to go in, so he does … and then …” Flip, flip. I can’t turn the pages fast enough. “There’s a fox and a cat. The cat doesn’t see well and the fox has trouble walking. And … the fox and cat keep trying to trick Pinocchio into doing what they want. They steal from him!” I flip some more. “Lots of bad things happen. Lots. Scary. Oh, oh, guess who helps Pinocchio? Much later in the story, though. Chapter fifteen.”

“Who?”

“The blue fairy!” I exclaim.

“Celeste?” Jonah asks with a smile.

I nod. “But in the book, she’s just called the fairy. Pinocchio tells the fairy a lie. And when he lies, his nose, which is made out of wood, gets longer and longer!”

“We knew that part,” Jonah says with a chuckle.

I read ahead a bit more. “Geppetto is looking all over for Pinocchio. He builds a boat so he can sail along the seashore to try to find him. But a mean whale-shark swallows Geppetto whole!”

“But whale-sharks aren’t mean in real life,” Jonah says. “They’re gentle giants! I don’t even think they have sharp teeth.”

I shrug. “In this story, the whale-shark is super scary. Basically a monster.”

“Remember Jonah and the whale?” Jonah says. “We read that in Hebrew school. Is this story like that story?”

“Not exactly,” I say. “Although both do involve being swallowed by whales. Also the Bible story has a Jonah. This one does not.”

“Not yet,” Jonah adds, smirking. “Do you think it’s slimy in a whale-shark’s belly?”

“Probably,” I say. I don’t know all the details. But I do know I would not want to be in there. I keep reading. “The blue fairy says that if Pinocchio is good,” I explain, “she’ll turn him into a real boy.”

“If he was a real boy, we could be friends,” Jonah says. “That would be fun.”

I don’t know about that. Pinocchio lies a lot. He does not seem like a great friend for Jonah, if you ask me. Not a positive influence.

I keep flipping. So much happens to Pinocchio! There are nice birds and fish. Mean boys and a farm. Gold coins and a garden. The ghost of the talking cricket. And of course there’s his nose that grows when he lies.

Flip, flip, flip. I can barely keep track of Pinocchio’s adventures and all the characters he meets along the way. I want to find out how it ends.

“Somehow, Pinocchio winds up in the sea,” I say. “But then the same whale-shark who ate Geppetto swallows Pinocchio, too.”

Jonah bites his bottom lip. “Do they escape?”

“Uh …” I turn the page. “Yes! And when they run into the blue fairy again, Pinocchio is so nice to her that she turns him into a real boy.”

“So,” Jonah says. “The bad stuff happens before Pinocchio becomes a real boy. All because he won’t stay in school. Yeah, I totally see why Celeste wants to shorten the story.”

“Right,” I agree. “And that’s where we come in.”

“We can help!” Jonah says proudly.

It’s nice to feel needed. Frankie may not want me on her camping trip, but other people want me in their lives. And … well, I’ve missed going into stories.

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s do it.”

Tonight, we’ll go through the magic mirror.

Beeeeeep!

My alarm goes off. My eyes pop open and I glance at my clock on my bedside table. It’s a few minutes to midnight.

To be honest, I was barely sleeping because I was so excited about visiting a story.

I’m pretty much ready to go. I slept in my clothes — jeans, T-shirt, hoodie — so I just need to stuff my feet into my sneakers.

I grab my watch from my jewelry box. My watch is a must because it tells me what time it is in Smithville even when Jonah and I are in a story. Which is super important so we know when we have to leave. We try to be back in our beds before our parents wake up. During the week their alarm goes off at 6:45 A.M., and they come and wake us up at 7:00 A.M. But time usually passes much more slowly in stories than it does in Smithville. Days can go by in a story when only twenty minutes have passed at home.

I tiptoe across the hall into Jonah’s room, keeping quiet so I don’t wake our parents. Surprisingly, Jonah’s awake and dressed already. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, also wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and a hoodie. He has his usual bedhead — his curly brown hair is sticking up in a bunch of places. Prince is awake, too, and he happily licks my hand when he sees me.

When Jonah stands up, he grabs his backpack and slings it over his shoulder. His backpack looks heavy.

“What are you bringing?” I whisper.

“Snacks,” Jonah explains. “Granola bars. Popcorn and chocolate-chip cookies. Two apples. Two bottles of water. Three packets of ketchup.”

“Um, why?”

“Because I always get hungry when we go into stories! I wanted to be prepared this time. And you never know when you’ll need ketchup.”

“Gotcha.” I look at my watch. “It’s two minutes until midnight! We better move.”

We rush out of Jonah’s room. Prince is right behind us. He usually goes on our adventures with us — we actually brought him home from a fairy tale in the first place (he was a gift).

We tiptoe downstairs to the main level and hurry down the final set of stairs to the basement. The magic mirror is bolted to the back wall. It’s taller than me and has a beautiful stone frame decorated with fairies and wands. There’s a small crack in the mirror from when Jonah smashed into it with his skateboard.

Jonah, Prince, and I stand in front of the glass.

“How will this work?” Jonah asks. “Will Celeste be in there?”

Hmmm. I have no idea! We’ve never done this without Maryrose before.

“I’m not sure,” I say.

“Let’s try what we always do,” Jonah suggests.

Which means knocking on the mirror three times at midnight. I glance at my watch. Five seconds! Four. Three. Two. One.

And knock!

The mirror starts to hiss. It’s working!

“Yay!” Jonah cries.

I knock again. Oh! The mirror turns … blue! Ha! For the blue fairy!

“Thanks, Celeste!” I say.

I knock a third time and the mirror starts to swirl. I take Jonah’s hand, and he and I (and Prince) step forward. The mirror sucks us right in like it’s a vacuum.

Swoosh! And away we go.

*  *  *

Plop!

I land on grass. It’s morning and a little chilly out. I stand up and look around.

Jonah is adjusting his backpack on his shoulders, and Prince is sniffing the grass.

We’re in a small park that’s full of benches and leafy green trees. There are plump red fruits on all the trees. I squint. Are those apples?

“Abby, look at all the tomato trees!” Jonah says.

He’s right. The fruits are juicy tomatoes! I thought tomatoes grew on vines, but I guess in this story they grow on trees.

“Did you know ketchup is made from tomatoes?” Jonah asks me.

“Yes,” I say. “Most people know that.”

“So I’ll never run out of ketchup here!” Jonah says excitedly.

I laugh. “You already brought ketchup in your backpack. I think you’re covered.”

“You never know.”

I glance around some more. The park is in the middle of a charming village. There are small stone cottages with doors painted all different colors. The streets are paved with cobblestones, and lampposts are on every corner. And there are tons of shops, cafés, and restaurants. I count five pizza places!

I could go for some extra-gooey, extra-stretchy mozzarella right now.

According to a big, ornate clock on a lamppost, it’s 7:10 A.M. Mmm. Pizza for breakfast?

“Hey, guess what?” Jonah says, scooping up Prince.

“What?” I ask.

“This might be the first time we know what story we’re visiting with the mirror right away,” Jonah points out.

True. Usually, we have no idea what story we landed in. We need to figure it out by piecing together clues or waiting until we come across a character we recognize.

Speaking of which …

“Where do you think Pinocchio is?” I ask Jonah.

So many people are out and about. Some adults are carrying briefcases. Some are holding the hands of kids with backpacks. Everyone seems to be on their way to work or school.

A man plucks a tomato off a tree and takes a big bite. Then I see a woman lift a child up to reach a tomato from a high branch. The girl eats it like it’s candy.

That’s when I notice a big sign that reads WELCOME TO VILLAGGIO POMODORO!

Oh! Pomodoro means “tomato” in Italian. The brand of pasta sauce we have at home is called Pomodoro and I asked my mom what it meant once.

“Bye, Papa!” I hear a voice call.

I turn and see a boy walking out of his house right across from the park. He’s a little younger than I am.

Something about the boy is different. He moves kind of stiffly.

I peer more closely — oh, oh, oh!

He’s made out of wood!

Face. Arms. Legs. Feet. His eyes are brown. His nose is a tiny branch. Even his hair is wood but painted a dark brown. On his head is a little cap that looks kind of doughy. Like a pizza pie without the sauce or cheese.

He’s wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and pants with blue and green stripes. A blue bow tie is at his neck. Fancy!

On his feet are two sneakers that look like they’re made from the bark of a tree.

It’s Pinocchio! For real! He’s right there!

He looks just like he does in the illustrations in the book back home.

Jonah is practically jumping up and down with excitement. “Abby, Abby, do you see what I see? A boy made out of wood!”

“I see him,” I say.

Pinocchio is holding a textbook. The ABC book from the story?

Oh! He must be leaving his house to walk to school.

“Ciao, Pinocchio!” a man around my dad’s age calls out. He’s standing in the doorway of the little stone house. He’s tall, with curly dark hair and dark eyes. He wears a cap on his head, too. That must be Geppetto!

“Ciao means ‘good-bye’ in Italian,” I tell Jonah, pronouncing it like chow. “It also means ‘hello.’”

“Like shalom!” Jonah says. “That’s the Hebrew word for ‘hello’ and ‘good-bye,’ too, right?”

“Right,” I say. “And ‘peace.’”

“Be a good boy at school,” Geppetto tells Pinocchio.

“I will!” Pinocchio promises.

Geppetto smiles and waves and then shuts the door.

Jonah and I watch Pinocchio stiffly walk down the stone path.

“You’d think Geppetto would take Pinocchio to school on his first day,” Jonah whispers.

“He probably has to work,” I say.

“How does Pinocchio even know how to get to school?” Jonah asks. “Or where to go when he gets there? The first day of school is scary.”

Pinocchio stops and looks around. A bunch of kids with backpacks are passing by and he follows them. They must be heading to the school, too.

Good going, Pinocchio!

“Let’s trail him,” I tell Jonah.

We follow behind, Jonah still holding Prince.

Growl-woof! Prince suddenly barks, squirming in Jonah’s arms.

What is he barking at? I look around for a squirrel or chipmunk. Instead, I see a black-and-white cat with a striped tail skulking along the curb.

I blink. The cat is wearing tiny round silver eyeglasses.

Yes. A cat wearing glasses.

That’s even stranger than tomato trees.

Prince starts barking more, and then I see another animal appear beside the cat: a bushy red fox! He’s standing on his hind legs and using a little gold cane to walk. The fox and cat aren’t wearing clothes or anything — they look like regular animals, just wearing eyeglasses and holding a cane.

Wait. I know who these animals are: the conniving fox and cat from the book. All they do is trick people — especially Pinocchio.

Prince keeps barking and squirming so Jonah sets him down. Big mistake! Prince immediately goes chasing after the cat and the fox.

“Prince, no!” I call, chasing him. Jonah follows us both.

But the cat and the fox are sneaky. The cat swishes his tail in Prince’s face, trying to cut him off.

Growl-woof! Prince barks again.

Yeah, you tell that cat, Prince!

The fox manages to stop just ahead of Prince, stick out a paw, and … trip him!

Woooof! Prince cries as he stumbles.

“What’s wrong with you?” I call out to the fox. I scoop Prince up in my arms. He seems to be okay.

“Who are those animals?” Jonah asks, catching up to us.

“They’re from the story,” I tell Jonah. “Remember? They try to trick Pinocchio.”

The cat and fox pick up their pace. They go weaving between kids’ and parents’ legs until they’re right next to Pinocchio.

Pinocchio looks at the cat and the fox and it seems like he’s talking to them. The cat meows and the fox makes soft barking sounds. Pinocchio nods at them and laughs.

Huh?

“Abby, does Pinocchio speak Cat and Fox?” Jonah asks.

“I guess so,” I say. “They’re definitely having a conversation!”

“I wish I could speak Cat or Fox,” Jonah says. “Or Dog. But I think I understand Prince pretty well as it is.”

Prince barks in agreement.

“Maybe everyone understands animals in this story,” I say. Although Prince has been barking a lot and no one else on the street tried to talk to him.

“There’s the school, Abby!” Jonah exclaims, pointing.

Up ahead I see a big building that looks kind of like Smithville Elementary. A sign above the front door reads VILLAGGIO POMODORO ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. Yellow trolleys pull up and kids stream out. There’s a big fenced-in playground to the side. They have tire swings just like at our school.

Pinocchio stops in front of the school, still chatting with the cat and the fox.

Jonah’s eyes widen. “They’d better not try to trick him into not going to school.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” I say. “To make sure he walks into that school building.”

But when does a story ever go the way it’s supposed to?

The cat and fox wave good-bye to Pinocchio and disappear down the road. Pinocchio is about to turn toward the school building. Go in, go in, go in! I think. But then he stops and looks in the direction the cat and fox went, sticking out his ear.

I hear something. Music?

Jonah cocks his head. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know,” I say. The music seems to be coming from about a block away.

Pinocchio looks at the school building. Then he turns toward the music. He does that three times.

“It’s like he’s trying to decide between going to school and following the sound of music,” I say, watching him.

“The Sound of Music?” Jonah asks. “I thought we were in the story of Pinocchio!”

I shake my head. “We are! I meant the sound of the music. He’s debating leaving school to follow the music.”

“Uh-oh,” Jonah says.

Right.

Pinocchio’s wooden head turns again. He bites his wooden lip.

He starts walking away from the school.

Toward the sound of the music.

Here we go. What we came for.

“Jonah,” I say, “let’s move. This moment is exactly what Celeste sent us to stop.”

“Let’s do it!” Jonah says, jumping up onto the toes of his sneakers. “We got this!”

Prince leads the way, trailing behind Pinocchio. Jonah and I follow.

Pinocchio is walking really fast for a wooden puppet. Jonah and I speed walk to keep up.

Pinocchio turns a corner, and up ahead a beautiful seashore comes into view. The water is blue and sparkling. I’d like to go for a swim, but I remember from the story that there’s a whale-shark lurking somewhere out there.

The music is getting louder now. It’s coming from a building right by the seashore that’s made out of stone.

The sign on the door reads: PUPPET SHOW THEATER.

Uh-oh. This is how all Pinocchio’s bad adventures start!

Pinocchio is talking to a man out front who’s wearing a tall red hat. The man has a black mustache that curls up at the ends, and a sash across his torso reads: TICKETS TO SHOW.

Ah! Perfect! Pinocchio doesn’t have any money. At least he didn’t in the story. He won’t be able to buy a ticket.

And we’ll have a chance to talk him into going to school.

When the ticket seller turns his head, Pinocchio dashes for the door. He’s about to run in when the man grabs him by his arm and tosses him to the ground.

“Ouch!” says Jonah.

“Maybe it didn’t hurt ’cause he’s made of wood,” I say.

Pinocchio gets up and dusts himself off. He glares at the ticket seller. Then he looks around — clearly trying to find a way into the building.

I see Pinocchio look at the book in his hand. His eyes light up and he runs to the ticket seller.

He says something to the man. And hands him the book.

The man gives him a ticket in exchange.

I gasp.

Noooo!

“Jonah,” I cry, “Pinocchio just traded his schoolbook for a ticket to the show! I don’t remember if that’s what happened in the story. I wish I’d had more time to read it!”

I flipped through the book so fast, I can’t remember the details — or the order of what happens when. Why didn’t we pack it in Jonah’s backpack? That would have been smart. Smarter than snacks.

This is not going to be easy.

But we can’t let Celeste down.

We watch Pinocchio walk right into the theater.

“We have to stop him,” I say.

We hurry to the door. But the ticket seller steps in front of it and holds up his hand.

“Where are your tickets?” he asks.

Uh. We don’t have tickets.

“We just want to look around inside,” I say. “We’re not staying for the show.”

He wrinkles his nose. “But it’s a great show! And if you don’t have tickets, you can’t go in.”

Now what? We have to get inside and find Pinocchio.

“How much are the tickets?” I ask the man.

“Five gold coins,” he answers.

Crumbs. I have exactly zero gold coins.

“How can we get inside?” I whisper to Jonah.

“We have to buy tickets,” Jonah responds. Unhelpfully.

“I know,” I say. “But we can’t, so we have to find another way in.”

“Hmm,” Jonah responds. “Oh! I have an idea!” He takes off his backpack and starts rummaging around inside. He pulls out the baggie of cookies.

He goes up to the man at the door. “Can I trade cookies for two tickets?” Jonah asks.

Great idea! Who can resist cookies?

“What kind of cookies?” the man asks, narrowing his eyes at Jonah. “I’m not interested in oatmeal raisin.”

No one ever is.

“Chocolate chunk!” Jonah answers, and holds up the little baggie.

The man eyes the cookies. “Just two? I don’t know. Maybe if you had four.”

“They’re really good,” I say. “Our dad made them.” Dad makes the best cookies. Crumbly and melty at the same time.

“Homemade?” the man asks. “Well, since it’s a slow day … I’ll accept the trade. Grazie!”

Yes! Go, Jonah!

Jonah hands the man the cookies and gets the two tickets in exchange.

Yay! We’re in!

I bend down and pet Prince. “You stay right here. We’ll be back soon!”

Woof! he says, staying put.

I look around for the fox and cat. I don’t see them. Did they go inside the theater? It seemed like they wanted Pinocchio to come here. But they wouldn’t have gotten in without tickets, right?

I just hope that wherever they are, they keep away from Prince.

“Let’s go,” I tell Jonah. We rush inside. There’s a colorful lobby with a concession stand selling cold drinks and popcorn. Luckily we already have our own popcorn! Good to know we can sell that next if we need to.

A pair of doors leads into a grand theater with a big stage. Facing the stage are wooden chairs with different colored cushions. Half the seats are taken.

As I comb the audience to try to find Pinocchio, the theater lights dim. The red velvet curtains open. The show is about to start!

Jonah and I take our seats as two puppets — neither of which is Pinocchio — come onstage. I can just make out the translucent strings attached to their heads, elbows, hands, knees, and feet.

The puppets are talking about a lost puppy. They’re walking around the stage and bending down to look under the theater props for the dog. The marionettes are super well-made, just like Pinocchio. They have expressive painted-on faces and really cute clothes.

“Wow!” Jonah exclaims. “How are the puppets moving by themselves? And they can talk! Are they sort of real like Pinocchio?”

“No,” I whisper. “Behind the curtain are puppeteers. They’re holding the ends of all the strings. They’re the ones who are saying the puppets’ lines and making the puppets move.”

“I hope they find the puppy,” Jonah says, making a wistful face. “Although I hope they don’t find our puppy.”

“I’m sure Prince is staying safe outside,” I say.

“I’ll help you!” a familiar voice calls out to the puppets onstage.

A boy pops up from the front row.

A boy … made out of wood.

Pinocchio.

“Aww, he wants to help,” Jonah says. “That’s nice.”

Except the two puppets onstage are suddenly not moving or talking. Pinocchio interrupted the show. And now he’s headed for the stage.

Jonah and I jump out of our seats and rush forward down the aisle. “Pinocchio!” I whisper-yell. “You shouldn’t be here. You need to be at school!”

“I’m not going to school,” Pinocchio insists, turning to look at us. “I want to help the puppets find the lost puppy.”

“It’s not a real puppy,” I point out. “It’s part of the show.”

He tilts his head. He looks confused.

“Shush!” someone in the front row yells at us.

“Sorry,” I whisper. I turn back to Pinocchio. “Just hear us out,” I say as quietly as I can. “Come talk in the lobby.”

Pinocchio looks at the stage. “But I’ll miss the show! And it’s so fun!”

“Please,” Jonah says. “It’s super important.”

Pinocchio sighs. “Fiiiiiine, I’ll come with you.”

Woot! This is going better than I expected.

Except … Pinocchio’s nose is sticking out an inch longer than it was a second ago.

Huh?

Suddenly, he turns and rushes for the stage!

OMG. Pinocchio was lying! His nose grew because he was lying!

He’s about to leap up onto the stage when I grab him by his shirt.

“Ugh!” Pinocchio grumbles. “Let go!”

“Shush!” an audience member says again.

“Sorry,” I whisper, and Jonah and I manage to tug Pinocchio by his shirt down the aisle, toward the doors to the lobby. Onstage, the play resumes.

“Pinocchio, you’re supposed to be in school right now!” I tell him when we get to the lobby.

He tilts his wooden head. His painted-on dark eyes stare at me. I have to say, it’s pretty cool to see Pinocchio in real life. Even if he’s not a great listener.

“Who are you, even?” he asks. “Why do you care if I’m in school or not?”

“I’m Abby,” I explain. “And this is my brother, Jonah. We told your friend the blue fairy that we’d help get you to school.”

Pinocchio frowns. “But I don’t want to go to school. I want to stay and watch the play.”

“Listen,” Jonah says sternly. “Bad stuff will happen if you don’t go to school!”

Pinocchio rolls his eyes.

“You need to go to school right now,” I add. “Will you?”

Pinocchio sighs. “I’ll go to school. Promise.”

His wooden nose grows again. A half inch longer!

“Look!” Jonah says, pointing.

“I know,” I tell him.

I narrow my eyes at Pinocchio.

“You’re lying!” I say.

“Am not,” he insists, crossing his arms over his wooden chest.

His nose grows another inch.

Lying again! Lying about lying!

“Pinocchio,” Jonah says. “I have an idea. Since you like dogs, why don’t you come outside and meet ours? His name is Prince and he’s super cute.”

Pinocchio’s eyes light up. “You have a dog?”

“Yup,” I say. “You can pet him. He has really silky floppy ears.”

Pinocchio hesitates. “Okay. I want to pet him.”

His nose shrinks a little, so he must be telling the truth. This might work.

I’m still holding Pinocchio’s shirt as the three of us head outside. Once we step back out onto the street, Prince hurries over to us, tail wagging.

“Good boy!” I tell Prince, relieved that he’s okay. The cat and fox are nowhere to be seen.

Woof, Prince says to Pinocchio. He’s always interested in new people — or puppets, I guess.

Pinocchio smiles. He kneels down and pets Prince’s soft fur.

Yes! Our plan is working!

“Hi, doggie,” Pinocchio says. “You’re cute.” He stands back up. “Well, since I’ve missed so much of the show …”

“You might as well go to school?” Jonah finishes for him.

“Um, no,” Pinocchio responds. “I was going to say that I might as well stay for the next show.”

Pinocchio is impossible! No wonder Celeste needed our help.

“Why won’t you at least try school?” I ask.

“Listen, you two don’t understand,” Pinocchio says. “School is full of real boys and girls. And I’m a wooden puppet. I wish I were a real boy. But I’m not.”

He hangs his head, then starts to walk back to the theater.

Aw.

Pinocchio will be real one day. But first he needs to go to school. How do I convince him to go? I try to think. What do I like about school?

“There are no tire swings in the puppet theater!” I call out to him.

He’s about to pull open the door. He stops and turns his head.

“Tire swings?” Pinocchio repeats.

He seems curious. He lets go of the door. Yes!

“What’s a tire swing?” he asks as he walks over to us.

“Only the most fun part of recess,” Jonah tells him.

“Recess?” Pinocchio asks. “What’s recess?”

“Recess is playtime,” I explain. “It’s in the yard. There are slides, monkey bars, and tire swings — tires hung horizontally. You hop on and spin around in a circle! Or you can get a friend to push you.”

Pinocchio frowns. “But I don’t have any friends.”

“You’ll make friends,” Jonah assures him. “When Abby and I moved to Smithville, we didn’t know anyone. But I made two best friends really fast. Ben and Isaac are super fun.”

I nod. “I made two best friends, too. Frankie and Robin.”

At least I thought they were my best friends. Until they made plans to go camping without me.

Anyway.

“And when you are in your classroom, you will learn lots of great stuff,” Jonah says.

“Like what?” Pinocchio asks.

“Like how to write your name,” Jonah answers. “How to read a book. How to read a map. What lions like to eat. Oh, and you’ll learn how to count to a million!”

“Wow!” Pinocchio exclaims, his eyes twinkling. “That’s high.”

I nod. “And then there’s gym class. You’ll learn how to play soccer. And volleyball. And hula hoop. Then there’s library time. You can check out all the books you want. And of course there’s lunchtime.”

“I love to eat!” Pinocchio says. “What do they serve?”

“At our school, you get choices,” Jonah tells him. “Sandwiches, cheeseburger sliders, waffle fries, and there’s even pizza day once a week. That’s the best day.”

“Pizza is my favorite,” Pinocchio says. “Papa says Villaggio Pomodoro has the best pizza in the world.”

“I’m sure it does.” Mmm. Pizza. But back to explaining school. “Then the bell rings and it’s time to learn more interesting stuff. Like science and history. And sometimes the teacher gives you gold stars when you get stuff right! Then the school day ends and it’s time to go home.”

“Bravo!” Pinocchio says. “School sounds awesome! Who knew?”

Well done, me. I decide Pinocchio doesn’t need to know about tests and lice checks.

“What about my teachers?” Pinocchio asks worriedly. “Will they be nice or mean?”

“Nice,” Jonah says. “My teacher at Smithville Elementary is so nice. Even if I give the wrong answer, she smiles and says, ‘Good try, Jonah!’”

“I hope my teacher is that nice,” Pinocchio says.

“I’m sure they will be,” Jonah says.

“I want to go to school now,” Pinocchio says, and his nose shrinks again, so I know he’s telling the truth. “I bet I’ll also learn how to be more like a real boy there.”

“You definitely will,” I say. Woo-hoo!

Prince lets out a Woof!

“Let’s go,” I say. I turn and lead us back toward Villaggio Pomodoro Elementary School.

Yay! Celeste will be so pleased. Jonah and I lived up to our reputations as being helpful in stories. Way to go, us!

“Ooh,” Jonah says, stopping in front of a pizzeria called Villaggio Pomodoro Supreme Pizza. “Look! There’s a lady throwing pizza dough in the air.”

We stop for a second to watch. A woman in a chef ’s hat and a white coat really throws the dough in the air. The dough is in the shape of a circle. I hope it doesn’t land on her head.

Nope, she catches it and keeps swirling it around, making it expand. And mmm. I can smell mozzarella and tomato sauce. My stomach growls.

“They’re not open till lunchtime,” Pinocchio says. “Sorry.”

“This is why I brought snacks,” Jonah tells me.

When we reach the school building, Pinocchio waves to me and Jonah.

“Well, ciao!” he says. “Thanks for everything.”

“Ciao!” I respond. “Have a great day. Nice to meet you!”

Woof! Prince barks.

“Pinocchio, get the waffle fries if your cafeteria has them!” Jonah calls. “With extra ketchup!”

“I definitely will,” Pinocchio says. Then he turns and starts walking to the front door.

I high-five Jonah.

“We did good,” I say.

“Yup,” Jonah agrees. “Gold star for us both.” He takes off his backpack and puts it down. “All that hard work to get Pinocchio to school made me hungry. Should we try to find a pizzeria that’s open?”

“We don’t have any money,” I remind him. “Have one of your snacks instead.”

“Oh yeah! Want an apple with ketchup squirted on it?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Um, hard pass. I’ll take that popcorn, though.”

Jonah gives me the bag of popcorn, and then digs in his backpack for his apple. He takes out one of the packets of ketchup. He really and truly squirts ketchup on the apple and takes a bite. “Yum!”

That can’t be possible.

I munch on the popcorn while Jonah finishes his gross apple. Then he hoists his backpack onto his shoulder.

He makes a face.

“What’s wrong? It was that gross, wasn’t it?”

“No! It’s just my backpack is so heavy!”

“You packed too many snacks,” I tell him.

“I thought we ate most of them,” he says with a shrug. “Or traded them.”

I keep munching on my popcorn and look at Villaggio Pomodoro Elementary. I’ll bet Pinocchio is already in his new classroom, sitting at his desk. He must be so happy!

We’ve only been here for maybe two hours at most. We usually stay in a story for many hours and sometimes days. But Celeste asked us to get Pinocchio to school and we did. She did not say we should stay longer and hang out. And it’s not like I want to run into the cat and the fox again.

“Our job here is done,” I tell Jonah. “Let’s go home.”

“How do we get home?” Jonah asks.

Hmm. Good question. We usually return from stories through a portal.

“Let’s try looking in the park where we landed,” I suggest. “Maybe one of the tomato trees is the portal.”

We hurry back to the little green park in the center of the village. We run over to the tallest tomato tree.

I hold my breath, hoping the tree trunk will start swirling.

Nothing happens.

Usually, the portal swirls purple and we jump through. Then we land in our basement at home. But we are never sure exactly what the portal will be.

The tree trunk doesn’t change. No swirling purple.

“Try knocking on it,” Jonah says.

I knock once. Nothing.

“Maybe we have to knock three times like on the mirror at home,” I say.

I knock — three times.

All of a sudden, a big part of the trunk starts swirling — blue! Just like the mirror did when it let us through.

Prince gives a happy woof.

“Let’s go!” I exclaim.

I grab Jonah’s hand and once again, we’re all sucked in. It’s fun — like going on an amusement park ride.

We land right in our basement. I glance at my watch. It’s 1:02 A.M. Wow, only one hour has passed since we went through the mirror. We can sleep the whole night and wake up (pretty) refreshed for school. Look at us! Fairy tale superstars!

And after telling Pinocchio all about how fab school is, I’m excited to go.

Although I’m not looking forward to seeing Frankie and Robin and pretending that I’m totally fine with the camping trip.

Sigh.

Jonah, Prince, and I head upstairs quietly. I tell Jonah good night and he and Prince hurry into his room. A minute later, I hear Jonah snoring.

In my room, I take off my watch and put it on my dresser. Then I pick up my jewelry box. It’s decorated with characters from fairy tales. I look at all sides of the box.

Huh. That’s weird. Usually, when we come back from a story, the characters on the jewelry box change to show how the story changed.

And Pinocchio’s story definitely changed.

But I don’t see Pinocchio on the box anywhere.

Where did he go?

Oh wait — Pinocchio is not a fairy tale character. He’s a book character. So he’s not on the jewelry box at all. I’ll look inside the book later to see if the illustrations changed.

First I change into my pj’s and get under the covers.

I’m so comfy with my fluffy pillow and cozy blanket. I feel myself drifting off …

The next thing I know, Jonah is standing in my room and shaking my shoulder. Prince is beside him, tail wagging.

“Abby, wake up,” Jonah says.

I’m so groggy. I sit up and rub my eyes. It’s still dark out.

“What time is it?” I ask.

Jonah shrugs. “The middle of the night, I think.”

“Why did you wake me up?” I ask. Grouchily.

Jonah has even worse bedhead than usual, and for some reason, he’s holding his backpack.

Is he here to offer me a middle-of-the-night snack? With ketchup squirted on it?

“Not hungry, Jonah!”

“Abby, we kind of have a problem,” Jonah says.

“What problem?” I ask.

“This,” Jonah says, setting his backpack on the floor.

Pinocchio pops out.

Am I dreaming? I could be dreaming. It is the middle of the night. This might not really be happening.

Pinocchio can’t be here in Smithville, right?

“Hi, Abby!” Pinocchio says, sounding a little sheepish. “Nice to see you again!”

I frown. And give myself a tiny pinch to see if I’m asleep.

Ow.

I’m not asleep. I’m not dreaming.

Pinocchio is really here. In Smithville. In our house.

Great. Just great.

“How did this happen?” I ask Jonah.

“I don’t know!” he cries. “I was asleep in my room when I heard a funny sound. I opened my eyes and saw my backpack moving! It was shaking from side to side. Then I saw the zipper slowly open … and a wooden hand popped out! And then there he was. Pinocchio. In my room. I told him to get back in the bag and carried him to your room.”

“Excuse me, Pinocchio, but what are you doing here?” I ask. “You’re supposed to be in your story. In Villaggio Pomodoro! In school!”

“I fell asleep in Jonah’s backpack and the next thing I knew I woke up here,” Pinocchio says.

All of a sudden, his nose grows.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“Every time you tell a lie, your nose grows,” I inform Pinocchio.

He looks horrified. “It does?”

“It does,” I say. “So stop lying.”

“I wasn’t lying!”

His nose grows another inch.

“It’s even longer now,” Jonah says.

“Sure it is,” Pinocchio says, rolling his eyes. He reaches for his nose and his jaw drops.

Then he runs to the mirror above my dresser.

“Ahhhhh!” he cries. “Why is my nose so long?”

“Because you keep lying,” Jonah says. “So you should probably tell us the truth about how you got here!”

Pinocchio bites his wooden lip. “Well, I, uh,” he begins. And seems to be thinking hard. “I was about to walk into the school, but —”

“But what?” Jonah asks.

“I, uh,” Pinocchio stammers again. “The entryway was crowded and someone bumped me. I went flying right into Jonah’s open backpack!”

His nose grows another half inch.

Jonah and I have to back away or the nose will scratch us.

Pinocchio stares down at his nose. “Oh, no,” he says.

“Oh, yes,” I say. “Told you.”

Pinocchio sighs dramatically and plops down on my bed. “Oh, fine,” he says. “Here’s the truth.”

We wait.

“I was about to go into my school,” Pinocchio begins, “but I turned back to say a last good-bye — and saw that your backpack was open, Jonah. You and Abby were looking the other way and eating your snacks. So I snuck over and jumped into your backpack and zipped it up.”

His nose gets smaller.

Finally, he’s telling the truth.

Pinocchio touches his nose. His shoulders sag with relief.

“Pinocchio, you shouldn’t have done that. You can’t be here. You need to go to school,” I tell him firmly.

“I will,” Pinocchio answers. “Today!”

“Don’t lie,” I say.

“I’m not!” he insists.

His nose did just shrink. Hmm.

So he’s telling the truth? But how?

“I don’t get it,” Jonah says. “How will you go to school if you’re here in Smithville?”

“I’m gonna go to your school,” Pinocchio explains.

My mouth drops open. He can’t be serious.

“You both made Smithville Elementary sound so great,” Pinocchio adds. “I wanna go there!”

Oh, crumbs. We did talk up our school a lot. And everything we said about it is true. But still! We can’t take Pinocchio to school with us!

“Our school is pretty great,” Jonah agrees.

“Not helping, Jonah,” I snap.

“I want gold stars,” Pinocchio says. “And waffle fries. And recess.”

I shake my head. “You can’t go to our school.”

He frowns. “Why not?”

“Because you’re supposed to go to school in your village!” I explain.

“But now I’m in Smithville, so I’ll just go to your school,” he counters. “No one knows me here, so everyone will think I’m a real boy. I don’t have strings or anything.”

“I know, but …” I hesitate. “You’re not supposed to be here. We’ve never taken a story character out into our world before.”

So much could go wrong.

“We took Prince,” Jonah says.

“Prince is not a character,” I point out. Prince wags his tail.

“What time do you normally get up in the morning?” Pinocchio asks us.

“Seven,” Jonah says.

He nods. “So we should sleep now. I want to be well rested for my first day. Where should I bunk? Jonah’s room?”

“Fun!” Jonah exclaims.

Woof! Prince agrees.

“Jonah!” I say. I tap my foot. I cross my arms over my chest.

My brother is looking at me with the puppy dog eyes he makes when he really, really wants something.

“Pinocchio, you need to go home to your dad,” I say. “He’ll be so worried!”

Pinocchio frowns. “But …”

“I’m sorry. You have to.”

“I don’t even know how to get home,” he says. “So I have to stay.”

“We have a magic mirror in our basement. That’s how we got to you in the first place. And we’re heading down there right now. Come on.”

“You have a magic mirror?” Pinocchio asks, perking up. “That sounds amazing. Is that how we got back here? I couldn’t see anything from inside the backpack!”

“It is,” I say. “And it’s even more amazing when you can step through the magic mirror with your own two feet. I’ll show you.”

“Cool!” he says.

Whew.

Jonah sighs. “I wanted Pinocchio to stay,” he whispers to me.

“He has to go home,” I say. “We had one job. Celeste asked us to make sure he goes to school.”

“He could go to our school,” Jonah points out.

“Not happening,” I say. “Let’s go.”

“Sorry,” Jonah tells Pinocchio. “I tried.”

“NOW,” I insist. I motion to them that I am not kidding around, and we all hurry down the stairs as quietly as possible, Prince following close behind.

When we get to the basement, Pinocchio stares at the mirror. “How does it work?” he asks us.

“Knock on it,” I say. “Three times.”

Pinocchio rubs his hands together in excitement. “Okay. Here goes!”

He knocks on the mirror once.

We wait for the hiss.

Or the swirl of blue.

But nothing happens.

“Try again!” Jonah says.

Pinocchio knocks again.

Still nothing.

Oh, crumbs.

I step up and knock three times in a row. “Hello?” I say.

Nothing.

“Celeste? You there?” I call. “Maryrose? Tinkerbell? Anybody?”

Prince wags his tail, waiting.

“No one’s there,” Jonah says. “The mirror only lets us in at midnight.”

I glance at my watch. He’s right. It’s almost six in the morning.

“I guess we can try again at midnight tonight …” I say. But what do we do until then?

Pinocchio shrugs. “If it’s not working, can I go to Smithville Elementary with your nice teachers and tire swings?”

I sigh. “Let’s go back upstairs.”

Jonah has a huge smile on his face. “Pinocchio, I’m sorry you didn’t get to go through the mirror. Because it really is super fun. But now you’ll have to come to school with us!”

I elbow Jonah in the side. “Maybe I’ll think of another way to get him home.”

“Don’t think too hard,” Jonah says with those same puppy dog eyes.

I sigh again. Do I have any other options besides taking Pinocchio to school? I can’t exactly leave him at home with my parents. At least at school I can keep an eye on him.

We all go into my room and I shut the door.

Pinocchio walks over to my Cali Doll on my shelf. “Is she coming to school, too?” he asks.

“No,” I say. “She’s not real. She’s a doll.”

“What’s her name?” Pinocchio asks. He’s holding her carefully and looking at her intently. Cali Dolls are made out of cloth and not wood, but I can see why Pinocchio relates to her.

“Raina,” I say. “She came with a name and an info sheet. She’s a student from California. Look at her backpack. Inside is a tiny notebook, a tiny pencil, a tiny book, and an apple for a snack.”

“A student like me. Hi, Raina!” Pinocchio adds, smiling at her. “Has she ever been to real school?”

“Once,” I say. “For show and tell.”

He looks hopeful. “Can I come for show and tell? I’ll pretend to be an actual puppet!”

“Maybe,” I say. “But you’d have to stay perfectly still the whole day. Could you do that?”

“Definitely!” Pinocchio says. “I stayed quiet for a very long time in Jonah’s backpack when I was hiding! You two had no idea I was in there.”

“True,” I say.

“But this would be a whole day,” Pinocchio says, considering. “And it would be kind of cramped.”

I frown. “It does seem wrong to make you hide in there the whole day.”

“What if Pinocchio wears a disguise?” Jonah says. “We’ll say he’s our cousin visiting from out of town!”

“Our cousin?” I repeat. “You want to pretend a wooden puppet is our cousin?”

“It’ll be okay!” Jonah says. “No one will point out that he looks different from us. That would be very rude.”

“True …” I say again.

Jonah beams.

So does Pinocchio.

Because they know I’m softening.

I turn to Pinocchio. He looks so hopeful.

“We’ll have to get permission from the school office … Fine. You can come to school for one day, but then you have to go back home right after.”

Pinocchio smiles. “Yay! Thank you, Abby!”

Jonah holds up his hand for a high five.

Pinocchio gives it a slap. “You two are so lucky to have each other.”

I laugh. “That’s your takeaway from this?”

Though I do have to admit, Jonah and I make a good team in stories. And when the stories come to us.

I hear my parents’ alarm go off. Crumbs.

“Uh-oh,” Jonah says. “We should find a disguise fast and then Pinocchio can hide in my room until we’re ready to leave.”

“Yay!” Pinocchio cheers.

Okay. It’ll be just one day. And no one will know he’s Pinocchio.

We can pull this off.

Right?

We leave Pinocchio hiding in Jonah’s room while Jonah and I quickly eat breakfast with our parents.

“Anything exciting happening at school today?” Mom asks as she pours us orange juice.

“No!” I say quickly, my heart rate speeding up. “Nothing exciting happening at all.”

“Totally normal day!” Jonah adds. “Not even one visitor.”

I see Jonah steal a few strawberries off the table and wrap them in his napkin. Then he grabs an extra muffin from the counter when our parents aren’t looking.

Do wooden puppets like fruit and muffins? I guess we’ll find out.

After we’re done eating, Jonah even manages to sneak a small glass of orange juice upstairs.

I follow him into his room, and Pinocchio pops out of Jonah’s closet. He’s disguised in Jonah’s old clothes: a T-shirt, jeans, baseball cap, and a long jacket. He also has on a pair of sunglasses. He looks kind of like a real boy. And also kind of like E.T. — the main character in an old movie our dad made us watch about a funny alien who comes to live with regular kids.

“Thanks, Jonah,” Pinocchio says as Jonah hands him the muffin, strawberries, and orange juice. “Looks yummy!”

I know it’s not nice to stare, but I can’t help it. I just realized he doesn’t have teeth.

He picks up the muffin and takes a bite. “Delicious!” he exclaims.

He seems to be chewing on the food with his wooden gums. I guess that does the trick.

Then he takes a sip of his juice, and beams with joy. He drinks the rest in one gulp. And pops a strawberry into his mouth.

“Abby, Jonah,” I hear my mom call from downstairs. “Time to go!”

“Yes!” Pinocchio says. “I can’t wait.”

“You have to be really quiet in the car,” I say. “Not a peep.”

He drags his fingers across his mouth as if he is zipping his lips. “Not a peep,” he repeats. “Good-bye, Prince!” he says to my dog, and scratches his neck. “Thank you for lending me your friends for the day.”

Aww. Pinocchio means well. He just gets a little … distracted. And of course there’s the lying issue.

Jonah holds open his backpack, and Pinocchio climbs in and folds himself up.

Here we go.

Jonah and I head outside, both of us carrying our backpacks like everything is normal. La, la, la, nothing unusual to see here, folks! We get into the back seat of the car. I put my backpack between my feet as usual, but Jonah carefully sets his backpack on the seat between us.

I can’t help but feel a little nervous as Mom gets in the driver’s seat. But I remind myself that Pinocchio managed to hide in Jonah’s backpack for a while without the two of us knowing he was in there. Can he hide from my mom for one car ride? Yes. He definitely can. It’ll be fine.

We’ve been driving for two minutes when the backpack jiggles.

Oh, no.

I put my hand on the bag to steady him.

“Abby?” I hear from inside.

Nooooo.

I press my hand against the bag.

“Abby?” Pinocchio says again. “Jonah?”

“Shhh,” I whisper to the backpack.

“Abby, are we close?” Pinocchio asks, his voice muffled.

“Soon!” I whisper.

“What is it, Abby?” my mom asks, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Did you say something?”

My stomach sinks. I knew this would happen. “Um …”

Jonah clears his throat. “I was just asking Abby if we’re almost at school.”

“Me too!” squeals Pinocchio.

Oh my goodness. He is going to ruin this whole operation!

“Abby, your voice sounds funny,” Mom says. “Everything okay?” Thankfully she doesn’t look back because she’s focused on the road.

“I’m good,” I say. “All good. Can you turn on the music?”

“Oh, sure,” Mom says, and puts on a Taylor Swift song.

I lean closer to the backpack and whisper-yell over the music, “STOP TALKING.”

Pinocchio is finally quiet. But the backpack starts wiggling again. Oh, no. Is Pinocchio dancing?

Before I can ask my mom to turn off the music, she pulls up to the drop-off line at school. “Here we are.”

Whew.

“Yay!” Pinocchio exclaims, an excited elbow or foot making the backpack move.

My mom turns around. “Glad you’re so excited for school, Abby!”

“Yay, school!” I say a little too loudly, and Mom looks at me strangely. “Fridays are always fun,” I add quickly.

Mom smiles. “Have a good day, kids.”

Jonah and I get out of the car. I grab both our backpacks.

“Ow!” I hear a muffled cry from inside Jonah’s backpack. “A notebook just hit me in the leg.”

I quickly shut the car door. We wave to my mom and she drives off.

I heave a sigh of relief. Okay. We made it! Barely, but we made it.

I hand Jonah’s backpack to him. We’re on the brick path leading up to the school. Lots of kids are getting out of buses and cars. A fence to the side surrounds the building and the playground.

“Can I let Pinocchio out?” Jonah asks, setting his backpack on the ground.

I look around. No one is coming up the path behind us.

“You can unzip it,” I tell him. “But then we should block your backpack so no one can see him popping out of it.”

“Good idea,” Jonah says.

“Pinocchio, don’t come out until I say so, okay?”

“Okay,” Pinocchio agrees.

Jonah kneels down to unzip the bag. We both move so we’re standing in front of it.

I make sure no one is coming or watching. No one is.

“You can get out now,” I say nervously.

Pinocchio pops his head out and looks around, then grins. “Wow! Your school!” He climbs out. At least he is in his disguise, including the dark sunglasses.

“Let’s go to the office,” I say. “We have to get you a guest pass.”

Pinocchio practically skips into the building.

“Wait for us!” I call.

Jonah and I run after him. I hold the door open and we all go in. Lots of kids are heading to their classrooms.

Pinocchio, Jonah, and I walk into the front office. I step up to the desk and smile at the receptionist, Mr. Barey.

“Good morning, Abby and Jonah,” he says.

“Hi! Our cousin is visiting for the weekend and he needs a guest pass for today,” I tell him. I hold my breath. I’m really glad that my nose doesn’t grow when I lie.

“How nice,” Mr. Barey says. He peers at Pinocchio over his brown reading glasses. I can barely breathe.

I wait.

He nods. And gives Pinocchio a sticky label that reads: GUEST.

Woot! I peel off the sticky part and plaster it on Pinocchio’s jacket.

“Okay, cousin, let’s go to my classroom,” I tell Pinocchio, smiling extra big.

“No, he’s coming with me!” Jonah insists, reaching for Pinocchio.

Not a chance. I get that they’re besties already, but I need to manage this situation. Jonah will be too careless.

I grab Pinocchio’s hand — ouch!

I look at my finger. A splinter! Uch. Right. He’s made of wood.

Splinters are the worst.

No time for me to go to the nurse to get it removed. We have to get to class.

“Sorry, Jonah, but he’s coming with me,” I insist. “I’m sure you’ll see us around.”

“Fine,” Jonah says with a pout. “See you later, Pinocchio!”

At least he whispered that last part.

I pull open the door and we head back into the hallway. Not too many kids. Good.

As we walk down the hall toward my classroom, Pinocchio is looking all around. He seems so excited by everything. The light blue paint on the walls! The shiny floors! The posters about reading!

We finally arrive at my classroom. I bring Pinocchio up to Ms. Gallan’s desk. She is a little absent-minded so I’m not that worried she’ll notice something odd. She’s the type of teacher who asks us if we’ve seen her glasses when they are actually on top of her head.

“I have a visitor for the day,” I tell her.

Ms. Gallan glances at Pinocchio’s GUEST label and smiles. “Welcome,” she says.

Before Ms. Gallan can say anything else, Zara comes up to ask a question about our recent spelling test. Good. It can’t hurt for my teacher to be a little extra distracted right now.

I take Pinocchio’s hand — careful to avoid another splinter — and hurry toward our seats. Luckily, there’s an open desk right next to me because Matt, the boy who sits there, is absent today.

To get to my seat, I have to pass Frankie and Robin’s row. I see them whisper something to each other.

Are they wondering who’s with me? Or whispering about their camping trip? I’m still upset about that.

At least I have something else to focus on now.

Pinocchio sits down and folds his hands on the desk. Very proper! Or at least, very stiff, since he’s wooden.

Frankie turns around. “Hi!” she says to Pinocchio.

“Hi!” he says back.

She seems to be waiting for introductions.

“Um, this is my cousin,” I say. “He’s visiting from out of town.”

“Hi!” Frankie says. “You must be Harry from New York. I’ve heard about you. You love the Yankees, right?”

Shoot. I forgot I’ve talked to my friends about my real cousins.

“No,” I say quickly. “Um, this is another cousin. He likes the Red Sox.”

“I have always wanted red socks!” Pinocchio says, nodding. “Mine are white, but red would be much more fun.”

Frankie’s face registers confusion. Understandably.

Robin also turns around. “Hi! I’m Robin,” she says to Pinocchio. “What’s your name?”

He smiles back at her. “Pin —”

Uh-oh.

“Pinky!” I say really fast before Pinocchio can finish. “His name is Pinky.”

Penny, who’s sitting on the other side of me, is staring at me.

Hard.

She tilts her head to the left, then to the right. She’s studying my face.

Uh-oh.

She purses her lips, raises an eyebrow, and stares at Pinocchio.

Her blue eyes are narrowed. I see her looking closely at his features. His twig nose. His mouth.

This is a problem.

Penny knows I go into stories. She even came with me once — to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Given that Penny and I don’t really like each other, I’m surprised she’s never told anyone my secret.

But she might. At any time.

Penny gasps.

“I have a feeling I know who he is,” she whispers to me.

“He’s my cousin Pinky who’s visiting for a few days,” I whisper back really fast and a little too loudly.

My heart starts to pound.

Penny leans close to me. “OMG, Abby!” she whispers. “Your ‘cousin’ ” — she makes air quotes around the word — “is clearly made of wood. But he can talk! He’s obviously …”

I swallow. And wait.

“Pinocchio!” she whispers triumphantly.

“Nope,” I say. “He’s not!”

I see Frankie looking at me strangely.

Robin is, too. Her head is tilted to the left. Then to the right. Just like Penny’s was a minute ago.

Huh? Why are they staring at me?

“Abby, your face looks different,” Frankie says.

Penny is studying my face like I’m a specimen under a microscope. “That’s it! I couldn’t figure it out before. But it’s your nose!” she whisper-shrieks.

What?

“There’s nothing happening with my nose,” I say.

Penny shrieks again and presses her hand over her mouth. Her eyes are super wide.

Um, what is going on?

Penny stands up, grabs her pencil case, and grabs my hand. She pulls me out of my seat.

“It’s an emergency,” she tells Ms. Gallan.

We hurry past our teacher, who is still talking to Zara about the spelling quiz.

“Don’t go anywhere!” I manage to call to Pinocchio as Penny pulls me out of the classroom.

Penny rushes me to the bathroom. What is she doing?

“Look,” Penny says, stopping me in front of the long mirror above the sinks.

I stare at my reflection.

I can’t help but scream.

My nose is long. Long long.

And the long part is made out of wood … just like Pinocchio’s.

I scream again. What is happening?

Did my nose grow because I told a lie? Like Pinocchio’s nose grows?

What lies have I told today?

A bunch. Starting with Pinocchio being my cousin.

And that his name is Pinky.

“What is going on with you?” Penny asks, her eyes bugging out of her head.

“Nothing!” I lie. “Everything is regular with me.”

And of course my nose gets an inch longer!

“Ahhhh!” I cry.

I stare at myself in the mirror. How can I go back to class like this?

“What exactly is happening?” Penny asks, her hands on her hips.

I can’t keep lying.

“Okay, fine,” I say. “My nose seems to grow every time I don’t tell the truth. Like Pinocchio. Who is here in school with me.”

I look in the mirror.

My nose just shrank. Yes! Unfortunately, it didn’t shrink by much. And the tip still looks wooden.

Penny’s eyes twinkle. “I knew it! Pinky is Pinocchio! How did he get here?”

“Jonah and I went into his story, and he snuck back to Smithville with us.” I sigh. “But I don’t know why MY nose is growing.”

“I don’t know why either,” Penny says. “But it looks ridiculous.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I can help fix it,” she says.

“How?” I ask.

“Duh, Abby. With makeup.” She unzips her glittery pencil case and takes out a compact with a fancy gold design on the front. “Haven’t you heard of contouring?”

“I have not,” I say. “I am not allowed to wear makeup.”

“You’re not? That’s so cute!”

She opens the compact and takes the little brush and swirls it into a dark-beige cream. She dabs the cream on the end of my nose, then a little on each side.

“There,” she says. “Now I’ll just blend it.”

She’s blocking my view of the mirror. When she’s finished putting on the makeup, she says, “Done!” and steps aside so I can see myself in the mirror. I have to admit, my nose looks better. Less obviously wooden.

“Thanks,” I say.

“You just can’t lie anymore.”

“I know.”

She smiles. “Tell me the truth. Are you ever jealous of me?” She whips her blond hair behind her shoulders.

Oh, no.

I can’t lie! She’ll see my nose grow!

“Yes,” I finally admit, “sometimes.”

And that is true. I’m not always jealous. Sometimes I’m really, really happy that I’m not Penny.

“I knew it!” she says, admiring herself in the mirror. She gives her hair another flip.

Oh, brother.

“And are you really okay that Frankie invited Robin camping instead of you? Do you feel left out?”

Argh. She is really going to milk this whole telling-the-truth thing.

“Yes, I feel left out. No, I’m not okay with it. Happy?”

Penny eyes me for a moment. I expect her to say something obnoxious. But instead she says, “Why didn’t you tell them the truth? Couldn’t you be honest with them?”

“Let’s get back to class,” I say, feeling embarrassed and changing the subject. “I need to make sure Pinocchio is okay.”

When we get back to the classroom, Pinocchio seems fine. He’s still sitting properly and smiling at Ms. Gallan, who has started today’s science lesson.

“All okay?” I ask him as I sit down at my desk.

“School is fun!” he whispers.

“You haven’t drawn attention to yourself, have you?” I ask.

“No!”

“Don’t speak in class, okay?” I warn him.

I try to pay attention to the science lesson. We learn about what floats and what doesn’t. I can barely focus with Pinocchio sitting next to me. But he seems to be devouring the lesson. He keeps nodding and smiling at what the teacher says and taking notes in the notebook Jonah lent him.

I’m relieved when we’re finally released for recess.

“Come on, Abby,” Frankie says, motioning to me. We always go to recess together.

“You go ahead with Robin,” I say. “I’ll, um, see you later.”

I catch Frankie and Robin giving each other a look before leaving the classroom. Penny raises her eyebrows at me and Pinocchio, but I wave her away, so she follows Frankie and Robin.

“Abby!” Pinocchio whispers. “Wasn’t science class so cool? I would float! Because I’m made of wood! I’m going to find some water later and see if it’s true.”

I try to smile. “You do that.” I just have to get through the day. Then Pinocchio will go home. Frankie and Robin will go on their annoying camping trip. And I can move on with my life.

More kids are leaving the classroom. “Let’s give everyone a minute,” I say. If fewer people see us, maybe fewer people will notice that I have a wooden cousin. And that his woodenness seems to be contagious.

Once it’s quieted down, I motion for Pinocchio to follow me into the hallway.

Then I spot something furry running across the shiny floor.

I blink. What was that?

I see a second furry thing run right behind it.

Were those rats? Guinea pigs? Has a class pet escaped?

But no. These furry creatures are bigger than anything that would be a class pet.

Then I see them again — running out the front door and into the playground! This time, I can clearly make out that one has a bushy red tail and the other one has white paws and a striped black-and-white tail.

Wait a minute.

No. It can’t be. Please let me be seeing things.

I close my eyes, then open them.

One is holding a gold cane. The other is wearing tiny silver eyeglasses.

It’s the fox and the cat from Pinocchio’s story!

Here. At my school. In the real world.

And that’s no lie.

Pinocchio is so excited to get to recess that he sprints out onto the playground.

Good. I have to find the cat and fox! I have questions. What are they up to? Why are they here? And how exactly did they get to Smithville?!

I’m looking all over the playground for them. I see Jonah sitting on the tire swing with his friends Ben and Isaac. Ben and Isaac went into a story with me and Jonah once, but they don’t remember it.

Jonah’s eyes light up at the sight of Pinocchio. He comes running over to us. Ben and Isaac run over, too.

“Yay, it’s Pin —” Jonah starts to say.

“Pinky!” I shout, finishing for him. I feel my nose grow an inch. Argh. Hopefully no one noticed.

“Who are you?” Ben asks Pinocchio.

“Are you new?” Isaac adds.

“He’s Pinky,” Jonah says. “He’s our cousin and visiting for the day.”

Whew! He’s using the nickname and remembered the fake story. But Jonah’s nose didn’t grow! Why did mine grow and his didn’t?

“Pinky, want us to push you on the tire swings?” Jonah asks. “It’s super fun!”

“Yes, please!” Pinocchio says, grinning. “I’ve been looking forward to that all morning.”

Jonah, his friends, and Pinocchio run over to the tire swings.

I scan the playground again for the cat and the fox. They have to be here somewhere.

All of a sudden, I spot the cat sneaking over to a pile of backpacks and lunch boxes by the fence. With one white paw, he shoves his little round eyeglasses up on his head. Then he sniffs at the lunch boxes and licks his lips. He grabs the handle of one in his mouth. He hurries under the swing. The fox skulks over along the fence. He grabs a lunch box, too, and joins the cat.

I gasp. They just stole lunches!

I watch as they eat the sandwiches and cookies inside.

No one else has noticed the fox and the cat yet. Do I want them to be discovered or not? I’m not sure!

The bell rings for lunch. I guess the cat and fox already had theirs. Thieves!

I’m trying to decide what to do about those two when Pinocchio runs up to me along with Jonah and his friends.

“I had the best time on the tire swings,” Pinocchio says. “And then Jonah showed me the slides and monkey bars. I love recess! I love school!”

Well, I’m glad he’s having a good time.

But back to the cat and fox. I look all around. Where’d they go now?

I pull Jonah aside. “The cat and the fox from Pinocchio’s story are here,” I whisper. “Causing trouble. I don’t see them anymore. But be on the lookout. Tell me if you spot them.”

“What will you do?” Jonah asks.

“I don’t know!” I say. “Something!”

We go into the cafeteria. Jonah, Ben, and Isaac lead Pinocchio over to the food line. The younger grades get their food first.

I sit down with Frankie, Robin, and Penny at our usual table. I’m still looking all over for the cat and the fox. Surely someone else will notice them and shriek, right?

“Hey, Abby,” Frankie says, pushing her red glasses up on her nose. “We missed you at recess.”

“Sure you did,” I grumble.

“What?” Robin asks.

Oops. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“Abby?” Frankie asks, peering at me. “Are you mad at me or something?”

I can feel my eyes well up. I blink hard and fast so I don’t cry like a total baby.

I’m about to say no, not at all, everything is perfect, I’m one hundred percent fine with you two going away without me, have a great time, but Penny puts her arm around me.

“Abby’s great,” Penny says. Then she turns to me and winks.

Huh?

Wait a minute. I get what she’s doing! Penny knows I can’t lie or my nose will start getting long. So she’s doing my lying for me.

Whoa. Is she being a good friend? Penny? Amazing.

Before I can respond or thank her, I see a red tail swish past the lunch line.

It’s the fox.

Next I spot the cat — slinking up to a girl in the line who’s counting her lunch money.

Meow, the cat says. He’s no longer wearing his eyeglasses. I guess he realized that a cat with glasses would be super weird in Smithville.

“Aww, what a pretty kitty,” the girl responds. She bends down to pet the cat.

The fox is now wearing a long jacket — which I am guessing he stole from one of the teachers — and a hat. If you weren’t looking closely, you wouldn’t know he was a fox. You’d think he was a short teacher with a very fuzzy beard.

When the girl’s distracted by the cat, the fox grabs two dollars right out of her back pocket.

I gasp.

They’re teaming up to steal people’s lunch money!

That’s it! I’m ready to march up to them. Confront them. Tell them they can’t do this at my school!

“I’ll be right back,” I tell Frankie, Robin, and Penny. I hurry over to the lunch line, but by the time I get there, the cat and fox are gone.

They are too sneaky.

I see Jonah sitting at his usual table with Ben and Isaac. Hmm. Someone is missing. A wooden someone.

“Where’s Pinky?” I ask Jonah, my tone sharp.

Jonah frowns and looks around. “He was here a minute ago. He ate all my waffle fries. Maybe he went to buy more?”

“He doesn’t have any money,” I remind him.

“Maybe he doesn’t realize he needs money,” Jonah says. “And he’s somewhere in line?”

I stretch out my neck to look at the line again. No wooden puppet boy in sight.

My stomach twists. Could the cat and fox have something to do with Pinocchio being missing?

By now my friends are getting in line to get their food. But I’m too worried about Pinocchio to eat. So I walk through the whole cafeteria, searching for him. He’s not at any of the tables. I look outside at the playground. He’s not on the tire swings or the monkey bars. I go back to the cafeteria.

Where is he?

“Abby?” Robin asks when I return to my friends’ table with no food. “What is going on with you?”

“Yeah,” Frankie says. “You’re acting really weird.”

“I’m not acting weird,” I say, and feel my wooden nose grow longer.

Oh, no! Now what?

I hurriedly turn away.

“I mean, I guess I am,” I say, and feel my nose shrink.

“Is everything okay with your cousin?” Robin asks.

I look at Penny and mouth the word help.

Her eyes widen. She drops the waffle fry she’d been about to eat. She looks at me, then at Frankie and Robin.

“Abby’s just hoping Cousin Pinky is having fun,” Penny tells them.

Not exactly. But as long as I don’t tell a lie, my wooden nose won’t get longer.

“Um, the problem is, I don’t see him,” I say, looking around again. “I hope he’s not lost.”

Frankie puts her hand on my shoulder. “We’ll help you find Pinky!”

“No, everything is fine,” I snap. Crumbs. That was technically a lie again. I can feel my nose grow a teeny bit.

I glance away. Robin and Frankie can’t know what’s happening. Also, I am still annoyed with them about the camping trip!

Penny looks at me — hard. “Abby, is there anything you want to say to Frankie and Robin?” she asks.

I glare at Penny. “No, nothing that I can think of, thank you very much,” I insist.

I feel my nose stretch. I place my hand over my face to hide it.

Penny waggles her eyebrows. “You sure?”

What is she doing? Is she being mean on purpose?

“There’s nothing!” I say, hearing my voice rise. And feeling my nose grow.

Thankfully, at that moment, Jonah, Isaac, and Ben run over to me.

“Abby, we saw a black-and-white cat racing out of the caf!” Jonah reports.

“It was so cool!” Ben adds, and Isaac nods. They’re the type of kids who’ll go along with any adventure and won’t ask too many questions.

“We have to follow the cat,” I say, jumping up. “Maybe it’ll lead us to Pino — Pinky!”

“Can I come?” Penny asks, standing up. “I love cats.”

“Sure,” I say, and then I glance at Frankie and Robin, still covering my face. “You two should stay here, though.”

“Um. Why? And why is there a cat at school?” Robin asks.

“Why is everyone being weird today?” Frankie asks, throwing her hands in the air. “Abby, what’s going on?”

Before I can tell another lie, I turn and race out of the cafeteria with Penny, Jonah, Ben, and Isaac right behind me.

The five of us rush down the school hallway, searching for Pinocchio, the cat, and the fox. Isaac has decided to walk backward so he can see behind us. I’m not sure it’s really helping.

The cat and fox are super sneaky — they could be anywhere.

I try to remember more of the original story for clues about where they might be, and what they might be up to. But all I remember is that they are evil.

I hope Pinocchio isn’t with them.

When the bell rings, I tell Jonah’s friends to go back to class.

“Tell Jonah’s teacher that he’s not feeling well and he went to the nurse’s office,” I instruct them. My nose grows an inch from even suggesting the lie! But what can I do? I send Penny back to class and ask her to do the same for me. My nose grows another inch. I use it to scratch an itch on my arm. At least it can occasionally come in handy.

Jonah and I look into the windows of classrooms. We look in bathrooms. We peek into the front office. We look in the auditorium, checking seats and backstage — it could be Pinocchio wanted to visit a theater again. But there’s no trace of him. We even stop in at the nurse in case Pinocchio got hurt and is getting a Band-Aid or something. He’s not there.

I think about asking the nurse to remove my splinter, but it’s not really bothering me, and I don’t want to waste any time.

“Let’s try the gym,” Jonah suggests.

“Good idea,” I say. Gym class is in session for first grade now. The gym teacher, Ms. Roseman, is a little bit quirky, but I like her.

We rush to the gym and I pull open the door.

Oh, wow.

I can’t believe what I see.

A bunch of kids are playing basketball. And the fox is standing beside Ms. Roseman near the bleachers.

Nicely. Calmly.

Like he’s supposed to be there.

He is no longer wearing his coat and hat or holding his cane, so it’s obvious he is an animal. And he’s dribbling a ball.

Yes, dribbling a ball. The kids standing in a half circle around him are cheering and clapping.

Pinocchio is one of the kids! He’s standing between two other students. They’re chatting about the fox’s awesome skills.

Huh? What is going on? How did this happen?

“Great job, doggie!” Ms. Roseman tells the fox. She thinks he’s a dog? I guess foxes do look a bit like dogs.

He’s not as cute as Prince, though.

“Thanks, Ms. Roseman!” the fox says, still dribbling.

The fox can talk here?! And no one finds this weird? How is that happening?

Ms. Roseman blows her whistle. “Okay, kids, line up to take a shot at the hoop!”

Suddenly, I see a black-and-white-striped tail dart under the bleachers. The cat!

A tennis ball comes rolling out from under the bleachers. Then another. Then two more. It’s the cat. He’s using his paw to find balls that have gotten stuck.

Ms. Roseman comes over with a basket and starts collecting the balls. “Thanks, kitty!”

“You’re welcome,” the cat replies.

“I can’t believe the animals are just talking here!” I say, shaking my head. “And no one seems surprised.”

“I heard the cat meow,” Jonah replies, an eyebrow raised. “And the fox kind of barked. They didn’t say anything. It’s definitely weird that the animals are hanging out here in the gym. But they aren’t talking.”

Huh? I’m so confused! I absolutely heard the cat and the fox talk. Is it just me?

I don’t get it. I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that my nose is growing and Jonah’s isn’t?

I twist my hands together, thinking.

Wait.

My hands.

My hand.

My splinter!

Oh! I have a splinter of Pinocchio’s wood in my hand! The magic wood. That must explain what’s happening to me. My nose grows when I lie and I can understand Cat and Fox language.

“Um, Abby,” Jonah says. “It’s like the cat and the fox are gym assistants now.”

I snap back to attention. Hmm. Why would the cat and fox suddenly be helpful? They’re usually the opposite of helpful. Demonstrating how to dribble a ball? Finding unreachable tennis balls under the bleachers and swatting them out with a paw?

What is going on?

I notice it’s Pinocchio’s turn to shoot the ball into the hoop. Swoosh. He gets it in the net! The other kids cheer and high-five him.

Just as I’m about to grab Pinocchio — without getting another splinter — he sees me. He tries to hide behind the girl next to him.

Oh, nice! After everything I did for him? Going into his story to help him. Letting him come to school today.

I march up to him.

“Pinky,” I say between clenched teeth. “I see you.”

“Oh,” Pinocchio says sheepishly. He steps out from behind the girl.

“I was looking all over for you!” I add. “I was worried.”

“But I’m fine,” Pinocchio insists. “More than fine. Especially now!” He’s smiling from wooden ear to wooden ear.

“Why now?” Jonah asks. “Because you got the ball in the hoop?”

“Well, that, and because guess what?” Pinocchio asks.

“What?” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

The cat and the fox come over. I glare at them, too.

“You’re supposed to guess!” Pinocchio responds, looking nervously at the cat and the fox.

Uh-oh. What do they have to do with this? Something not good, that’s what!

“Just tell me,” I insist.

“I’m staying!” Pinocchio exclaims. “I go to school here now! I’m gonna live in Smithville.”

Um, no, you’re not,” I inform him. “You live in Villaggio Pomodoro! You’re supposed to go to school there!”

Pinocchio shakes his head. “Cat and Fox told me we could all stay in Smithville. They love it here, too.”

I glare at the cat and fox. “Sure they do,” I say. “Lots of new people to steal from, aren’t there, Cat and Fox?”

“That’s Mr. Fox and Mr. Cat to you, missy,” the fox says.

“You can’t trust them,” I tell Pinocchio. “They only want to use you or steal from you.”

“They’re my friends,” Pinocchio says.

“No, they’re not,” Jonah says. “We’re your friends. They’re up to no good. They were planning to steal from you the day you met them in the village!”

Pinocchio frowns.

“How did you two even get here?” I ask Mr. Fox and Mr. Cat.

“We followed you through the tomato tree,” Mr. Cat says.

“You went to my house?” I ask, stunned.

“Nope,” Mr. Cat says. “We came right here to your school. We landed in the janitor’s closet. And we were locked in there all night until nine o’clock this morning!”

“Good thing he keeps snacks in there,” snickers Mr. Fox.

“Did you leave at the same time as us?” I ask Mr. Cat.

“Nope. Maybe five minutes later?”

So does that mean there’s a magic portal somewhere in my school? In the janitor’s closet? A while back, Maryrose was looking for something in my school … was that it?

Before I can ask another question, Mr. Fox hangs his furry red head. “We’re not proud of stealing,” he explains. “We don’t have any other choice. We’re hungry and our families don’t want us. And we’re not good at any kind of work!”

Mr. Cat nods. “Fox is right. At home, the only way for us to eat is to steal. But maybe things will be different here. At least there are different people to steal from. So we’re staying and so is Pinocchio!”

“Abby,” Jonah says, “why do you look like you’re understanding what the cat is meowing?”

I don’t have a chance to answer because Ms. Roseman approaches us. She’s holding the basket of tennis balls. “What a great, helpful kitty,” she says, kneeling down to give the cat a scratch along his back. She stands up. “I now have twelve formerly-lost balls!”

“My pleasure,” Mr. Cat says.

“I guess you really didn’t hear that,” I say to Jonah.

“You mean another meow?” he asks, looking at me like I’m beyond weird.

Pinocchio and I are definitely the only ones who can understand Cat and Fox.

“And doggie,” Ms. Roseman continues, now talking to the fox, “I don’t know which teacher you belong to, but I can’t wait to tell them what a natural motivator you are and to thank them for bringing you in today. Who’s a good boy? You are, you are!”

Mr. Fox wags his tail happily. He for sure stole her wallet.

“Okay, kiddos,” Ms. Roseman says to the class. “Time to line up for dismissal.”

I glance at the clock. The bell is about to ring to end the day. I can’t believe we missed the entire afternoon of classes looking for Pinocchio, the cat, and the fox!

“Well, gotta get in line,” Pinocchio says, about to follow his fellow students.

I grab his shirt. “Pinocchio, you can’t stay in Smithville,” I say. “Geppetto will miss you!”

He bites his lip. “I do love Papa,” he says. “He sold his coat to pay for my textbook so I could go to school.”

Jonah nods. “And you sold that textbook to attend the puppet show instead.”

Pinocchio frowns. “I feel bad about that. Another good reason to stay here!”

Now I frown. Mr. Cat and Mr. Fox might have tricked Ms. Roseman into thinking they’re helpful. But I know they are up to no good and cannot be trusted. They just want to use Pinocchio to help them steal stuff. I have to get them out of Smithville before they cause some real damage.

“You’re going home and that’s that,” I insist, looking from Pinocchio to Mr. Cat to Mr. Fox. “All three of you.”

“Okay,” Pinocchio says sadly.

Then I see his nose grow.

“You’re lying!” I accuse him.

Pinocchio scowls. He puts his hand over his nose. “This is unfair!”

“Pinocchio,” Jonah says, “if you agree to go home, you can have the rest of the snacks in my backpack.”

“Thanks, but I’m full from all those waffle fries at lunch,” Pinocchio responds. He gives his wooden belly a rub.

How am I going to get Pinocchio into Jonah’s backpack? Or the cat and fox, for that matter?

Hmm.

“Pinocchio, I thought you wanted to step through the magic mirror on your own?” I remind him.

His eyes light up. “Ooh, I do!”

I nod. “Well, you need to use the mirror to go home. And you need to go home because your dad must be so worried about you. Do it for him, Pinocchio.”

Pinocchio’s wooden shoulders sag. “I do want to go through the magic mirror,” he says. “And I also want to see Papa. I miss him.”

His nose shrinks! He’s telling the truth.

“Tell you what,” Pinocchio says. “If you buy me a slice of pizza from Villaggio Pomodoro Supreme Pizza, I’ll definitely go home. Two slices so I can bring one home for Papa.”

I peer at him closely. His nose doesn’t get longer.

“Deal,” I say. I have no idea where I’ll get gold coins to pay for the pizza, but I’ll figure that out when I get there. I was kind of planning to just push Pinocchio through the mirror and be done with it, but I guess we’re going back with him.

“Yum,” says Jonah. “And road trip!”

“What a sellout,” Mr. Cat complains, narrowing his eyes at Pinocchio. He links arms with the fox. “Well, we’re not going back. You’re not the boss of us. You can’t stop us.”

“And that’s final!” Mr. Fox adds.

Pinocchio is a little easier to deal with than these two.

Mr. Fox picks up his cane again and leans on it.

“Ah. That’s better. It helps my sore back,” Mr. Fox says. “But humans here seem to find me using it odd. Also, why are you and Pinocchio the only ones who can understand us here? Everyone thinks we’re somebody’s pets. Who would want to be a pet?”

“Being a pet doesn’t sound that bad,” the cat says.

“It does to me,” Mr. Fox says, shuddering. “Forced to rely on someone else all the time? Pretending to want to see the other person when they enter a room? Snuggling? Hard pass.”

“There you are,” says Penny, stepping into the gym. “You found them!” She kneels down to pet the cat. “Ooh, such soft fur. Pretty kitty.”

Mr. Cat purrs happily and nuzzles his face against Penny’s hand. “That feels nice,” he says.

“He likes you,” I tell Penny.

“Can I give him a snack?” Penny asks.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Cat says. Which Penny only hears as purring.

“I guess,” I say. “What do you have?”

“Crackers,” she says. “And some Brie.”

“Brie?” I repeat, laughing. “The fancy cheese?”

“Yes,” Penny says. “I don’t know why that’s funny. It’s not like the school lets me bake it like you’re supposed to. I’ve asked.”

I have an idea. I lean close and whisper to her, “I need to tempt the cat and the fox into our backpacks so I can get them back to their story with Pinocchio. Can we use the fancy cheese to lure them in?”

Penny grins and gives me a nod. “Did I mention I have Brie in my lunch box?” she says more loudly. “And really good crackers.”

Mr. Fox’s eyes light up. “Did you say Brie?” he asks. “My favorite kind of cheese! Villaggio Pomodoro has lots of mozzarella and Parmesan, but is short on Brie.”

I know all Penny can hear is a raspy bark. But it’s clear that it’s an excited bark.

“Yum!” Mr. Cat says. “So delicious.”

Which to Penny must sound like: Meow, meow, meow.

Penny picks up the cat. I expect him to scratch her, but he nuzzles his face against Penny’s arm and starts purring.

Mr. Cat really wants that Brie.

And he really likes Penny.

Someone has to, I guess.

Although, I have to admit, she’s been very helpful today.

Penny puts the cat in her pink, rhinestone-dotted backpack. I hear some rustling from inside.

“Got the Brie. Yum, delicious.” A paw with a dollop of the cheese on it pokes out. “For Mr. Fox.”

Mr. Fox smiles and gobbles up the cheese.

“There’s more where that came from in there,” I tell him.

Mr. Fox licks his lips and dives into Penny’s backpack with the cat.

Penny zips up the bag, leaving it a bit open so they can get air. “Done!”

I high-five her. And we head out into the hallway.

“Let’s go to the janitor’s closet,” I say. “I think there’s a portal in there that will send Mr. Cat and Mr. Fox and Pinocchio back to their story.”

“But Abby,” Jonah says, “we’re not just tossing them inside. We’re going to go, too, right? To make sure Pinocchio actually goes to school? And get him his pizza?”

“Right,” I say.

“Plus we can’t just disappear during the middle of the day. Dad is picking us up!” Jonah reminds me. “He’ll get worried if we don’t come outside. Besides, you promised Pinocchio he could use our mirror. He never agreed to travel by closet. That might not be as fun.”

“All good points,” I say, biting my lip. “I guess we have to take them all home with us. And use our own mirror, tonight.”

A whole evening with a mischievous puppet and two tricky story characters at my house. What could go wrong?

Jonah, Penny, and I wait outside school for my dad to pick us up. Jonah and Penny are both wearing their backpacks.

No one would ever know that in Jonah’s backpack is the world’s most famous wooden puppet — excuse me, marionette. And in Penny’s backpack are a talking fox and cat. She said I could return her bag on Monday.

“Thanks for all your help today, Penny,” I say. “With Pinky and Mr. Cat and Mr. Fox. But also with Frankie and Robin.”

“No problem,” Penny says. “I understand why you didn’t want to admit being upset to them. I do that, too, sometimes.”

“You do?” I say, surprised.

“To be honest — my feelings get hurt, too. You don’t always include me,” she says.

Huh. I look at her and she does look a little hurt. I had no idea she felt that way.

“You have two best friends,” Penny continues. “I only have one. So you get double the invitations to do stuff.”

When she puts it like that …

“I’m sorry,” I say. “Hey, Penny. Do you want to come over tonight? And help me with” — I motion to the backpacks — “these guys?”

“Really?” she asks, smiling.

“Really. You’ll have to sleep over, but you can borrow clothes if you want. And I have extra new toothbrushes.”

“Yes! Let me just text my mom! We’re doing our spa day tomorrow, but our first appointment isn’t until eleven so it should be fine.”

I forgot she has a phone. So lucky.

“She said yes,” Penny announces a moment later, beaming. “Plus, my sitter will drop my stuff off at your house. I’ll definitely need an outfit for tonight. Multiple, perhaps.”

“Guess what?” Jonah asks me and Penny.

“What?” I ask.

He pulls something out of his pocket. “I have two waffle fries left from lunch!”

“Eww,” Penny says, wrinkling her nose.

He pops one into his mouth. “Delicious!”

“Want a packet of ketchup for it?” Pinocchio calls out from inside his backpack.

“Too late,” Jonah says. “Next time!”

My dad’s car pulls up beside us.

I pat Penny’s backpack. “If you stay quiet on the car ride home I will reward you with delicious food,” I tell Mr. Cat and Mr. Fox.

“You better,” Mr. Fox whispers back. At least they seem less fidgety than Pinocchio.

I get in the front seat next to my dad. Jonah and Penny are in the back with their backpacks.

My shoulders are clenched. Everyone better stay quiet.

“I invited Penny to sleep over tonight. I hope that’s okay?” I ask my dad, looking down so he won’t spot that my nose is wooden.

“Sure,” he says. Luckily, he’s focused on steering through the traffic. “How was school today, everyone?”

“Great!” Pinocchio calls out from inside Jonah’s backpack.

Oh, no.

I see my dad glance in the rearview mirror at Jonah.

“Great!” Jonah pretends to repeat. “It was great!”

“Is your voice okay, Jonah?” my dad asks.

“Great!” Jonah says again.

I turn on the radio immediately. Loudly.

And then I start singing. Loudly. If Pinocchio, the cat, or the fox are talking, Dad won’t hear them.

Finally, we pull into our driveway. The radio turns off.

“Home sweet home,” my dad announces.

“Aww,” I hear Pinocchio say.

My dad looks confused again and glances at Jonah, who is busy showing Penny the extra waffle fry from lunch he just found in his pocket. Penny is shifting in the seat and making her “ewww” face.

My dad shrugs and we all get out.

Midnight can’t come fast enough. I need to get Pinocchio, the cat, and the fox home!

The mirror will work at midnight, right?

It has to.

I see my dad looking at me, confused.

I lower my head. He can’t notice my nose!

“Are you getting a cold, Abby? Your nose seems … is it puffy or something?”

“No! I’m perfectly healthy! Not sick! No cold! Feeling one hundred percent healthy!” I call out. At least that isn’t a lie. I lift my backpack so it hides my face. I don’t know how I will keep this up all night, but I have no choice.

As we step into the house, Prince jerks awake from his nap on the couch and bounds over to us.

Growl-woof! Prince says. His usually floppy brown ears are stiff, and he barks at Penny’s backpack repeatedly, clearly smelling the cat and fox squished in there. At least Penny has one of those big rolling backpacks.

I pet Prince. “Sorry, but they’re here until midnight,” I whisper.

Prince wrinkles his little black nose.

I motion to Penny and Jonah to go straight up to my room with their backpacks, and they do. Hopefully that will help. Prince calms down a bit and curls back up on the couch while my dad heads into the kitchen. I hurry upstairs to join the others. Pinocchio is already out of Jonah’s backpack and waving to my Cali Doll on my shelf.

“Mr. Cat, I’m letting you out, but you have to be good,” Penny says, unzipping her backpack.

“I’ll be good,” Mr. Cat says, climbing into Penny’s lap.

Penny scratches behind his ears.

“Can I come out, too?” Mr. Fox asks.

“Yes,” I say, and he emerges from Penny’s bag. “If you two continue to behave,” I tell him and Mr. Cat, “I’ll bring you delicious food.”

“Like what?” Mr. Fox asks.

“Do you like tuna?” I ask.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Mr. Cat says, licking his lips.

“Do you have any more Brie?” Mr. Fox asks.

“We don’t have any Brie in the house, do we?” I ask Jonah.

“I don’t think so …” my brother says. “But have you ever tried those red Babybel snacks?” he asks the fox. “We have lots of those.”

“I eat anything cheese related,” Mr. Fox says. “Even blue cheese.”

“I don’t like blue cheese,” says Pinocchio. “Too stinky for my special nose. It’s mozzarella for me. Mmm, I’m so excited to have my village’s best pizza.”

“And I’m so excited to go into a story again!” Penny exclaims.

I smile. “I’m glad you’re coming with us.”

“We’re going to have the best time,” she says. “Once we leave Pinocchio, maybe we’ll swing by the story of Cinderella? I want to go to a ball! My sitter is bringing over my formal wear. And heels.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” I say, trying not to laugh.

After Penny’s sitter drops off her clothes, I ask my parents if Penny, Jonah, and I can please please please have a dinner picnic in the basement. Penny and I will be sleeping down there anyway, on air mattresses. Thankfully, my parents agree. So while I gather food from the kitchen and try to distract my parents, Jonah and Penny manage to sneak Pinocchio, Mr. Fox, and Mr. Cat down to the basement in their backpacks.

I make turkey sandwiches for me, Penny, Jonah, and Pinocchio, and I sneak cans of tuna and the cheese snacks downstairs for Mr. Cat and Mr. Fox. I also bring extra muffins and Froot Loops, which they love. We all sit in a circle, picnicking on the carpet. Raina is sitting with us, too, on Pinocchio’s lap. We make a little blanket fort in case my parents walk in without knocking. Kind of like a tent, I guess. Ha. What camping trip?

After dinner, I pack up a shopping bag with extra food. I tell Mr. Cat and Mr. Fox that if they go home, they can take it all with them.

“Thank you,” Mr. Fox says.

My parents will probably wonder what happened to all our food, but I gotta do what I gotta do.

“Do we really have to go back?” Mr. Cat asks.

“Going home is the best thing for you two. Especially Mr. Fox,” I say. “If you stay here, you could get hunted. Or sent to a zoo. And no one but me can understand you!”

“I don’t like not being understood,” Mr. Fox says. “Your brother and your friend have no idea what Mr. Cat and I are saying!”

Jonah and Penny stare at him blankly.

“See?” Mr. Fox says.

“I don’t mind so much,” Mr. Cat says, curling up in Penny’s lap.

“This is the best night ever,” Penny says, scratching behind Mr. Cat’s ears. “And we haven’t even gone through the mirror yet!”

It has been pretty fun. And I’ve barely thought about Frankie and Robin on their camping trip.

“Does Pinocchio really have to leave?” Jonah asks me sadly.

“Yes,” I say. “Think about how worried Geppetto must be.”

“It’s nice to have someone worry about you,” Mr. Cat says.

“I’ll miss you,” Pinocchio says, looking from me to Jonah to Penny. “But I really miss my papa.”

Aw.

When it’s time for bed, Jonah goes upstairs to his room but promises to set his alarm so he’ll be back here by midnight. Pinocchio, Mr. Cat, and Mr. Fox will be sleeping down here on cushions so Penny and I can keep an eye on them. I worry that one of them will try to sneak away or something, but all three of them are so tired that they fall asleep in their spots, snoring.

Penny and I go to sleep on our air mattresses. At 11:30 P.M., Penny’s phone alarm goes off and she jumps up.

“Time to get ready!” she announces.

“We have a half an hour,” I mumble, feeling groggy.

“Abby, I can’t just get up two seconds before we’re supposed to go through the mirror,” Penny insists. “I need to fix my hair, decide which shirt to wear, and match my socks to my ponytail holder.”

I roll my eyes.

At 11:55, Penny is finally ready. Jonah comes down at 11:58. He has his usual bedhead and is yawning. I wake up Pinocchio, Mr. Cat, and Mr. Fox.

“Where’s Prince?” I ask my brother.

“He didn’t want to come,” Jonah says. “He seemed cranky.”

I nod. I can understand why Prince wants to avoid the cat and the fox. Prince staying home now is probably for the best — there are enough animals for me to keep track of.

“We have to go through the mirror in one minute!” I say. “Hurry.”

Mr. Cat slips into Penny’s backpack and Mr. Fox goes into Jonah’s. We need to make sure they don’t “accidentally” stay behind. I hold Pinocchio’s hand so he can walk through the mirror as promised and I grab the bag of extra food.

I hope this works! What if no one lets us through?

I knock on the mirror. Once.

Hissss.

It’s working!

Twice.

The mirror swirls blue.

“SO COOL!” Pinocchio cries.

“The absolute coolest!” Penny adds.

“It is pretty cool. Want to do the last one?” I ask her.

Her eyes almost bug out of her head. She nods and does the third knock.

The mirror sucks us all in.

We land in Villaggio Pomodoro, in the park with the tomato trees.

“Whoa!” Penny says. “Are we inside the story of Pinocchio?” she asks, looking around. “This is amazing. It looks just like Italy. I’ve been to the real Italy, you know. Twice.”

Of course she has.

“I have a story?” Pinocchio asks. “What do you mean?”

“It means you’re famous,” Jonah explains.

I look around to get my bearings. The sun is high in the sky, and the clock on the lamppost says it’s noon. But oh, no — I was so busy gathering all the people and animals that I forgot my watch at home.

I can only hope that time still moves as slowly here as it did when we last visited.

Penny and Jonah open their backpacks, releasing Mr. Fox and Mr. Cat. I give them the bag of extra food.

“I guess you’re off now?” I ask them.

Mr. Fox shrugs. “We can hang out a little longer. Not much on the agenda.”

“What are you doing next?” Mr. Cat asks.

“Getting pizza!” Pinocchio and Jonah call out at the same time.

“Wait,” I say. “Jonah, did you just understand Mr. Fox and Mr. Cat?”

Jonah nods, looking surprised. “I did! I guess I understand Fox and Cat here in Villaggio Pomodoro.”

“I understood them, too,” Penny says. “So fun! Let’s get pizza!”

“Let’s go to Pinocchio’s house first,” I suggest. “So Geppetto will know he’s okay.”

“Oh yeah. I hope Papa’s not mad at me,” Pinocchio says. “I did go to school — just not my school.”

Penny, Jonah, Pinocchio, Mr. Cat, Mr. Fox, and I hurry across the street to Pinocchio’s small house. Pinocchio opens the door, but it’s dark and quiet inside. There’s one room with a tiny kitchen, two sleeping alcoves, a rickety table and chairs, and a lumpy sofa. No sign of Pinocchio’s dad.

“We should find Geppetto,” I say. “He must be out searching for Pinocchio.”

“What if I’m in trouble?” Pinocchio asks, looking anxious.

“I’m sure your dad is more worried than angry,” Jonah assures him. “He’ll probably just hug you when he sees you.”

Pinocchio puffs up. “Okay, let’s go find my papa!”

“Where should we look?” Penny asks.

I have no idea. He could be anywhere in the village.

“Where are we in the story?” Jonah asks.

Good question.

“Let me think for a minute,” I say. I try to remember. “Oh, wait — I know. Geppetto was looking for Pinocchio and couldn’t find him. So he built a boat to search for him by sea. I think we’re like halfway through the story.”

“We should go to the sea!” Jonah says. “Ooh, I wish I brought my bathing suit.”

“The seashore is close by,” Pinocchio says. “It’s right by the puppet theater. Follow me.”

We leave the house and walk down the street and around the corner. Pinocchio stops when we come to Villaggio Pomodoro Supreme Pizza. The smell of hot, fresh pizza wafts out the door as customers go in and out. I look in the window. The lady who was tossing up the pizza dough before is sliding pizzas into the oven.

“Oooh, can we go in?” Jonah asks, his eyes hopeful. “We promised Pinocchio two slices.”

“It’s the best pizza in Villaggio Pomodoro!” Pinocchio says.

“But we have no money,” I say.

“Unless,” Mr. Fox says, “we can use the lunch money that we stole?”

“Absolutely not,” I say, holding out my hand. “I’ll give that back for you.”

“Then we have no money,” Mr. Fox says, putting the stolen money in my hand. I nod and tuck it away to give back to everyone at school they stole from.

“Did you bring snacks?” I ask Jonah. “We can trade some.”

“Not this time,” he says.

Mr. Cat sighs. “We can trade some of our tuna.”

“We can?” asks Mr. Fox.

“We can,” Mr. Cat says.

“That’s so nice of you!” Penny says.

We head into the pizzeria. The owner tells us that, in return for two cans of tuna, we can order one big pizza and get whatever toppings we want on individual slices.

We order and sit down at a table. A waitress brings over the pizza. I grab my slice with pineapple. Jonah and the fox get plain. Penny has veggie pizza. Mr. Cat has seafood toppings. And Pinocchio goes for the pepperoni, and saves two slices of mushroom for Geppetto.

“Yum!” Jonah says, a long string of mozzarella cheese stretching from the slice to his mouth. “This is fantastic pizza!”

The cheese melts in my mouth. This beats every pizza place I’ve ever tried in Smithville.

Pinocchio beams. “Told you! Delizioso!”

“Mmm,” Penny says. “As good as in the real Italy. Have I told you I’ve been to Italy? Twice.”

“You have,” I say with a laugh. Then I turn to the animals. “Thanks for the trade.”

“Thanks for the bag of food,” Mr. Cat says.

When we finish eating, we leave the pizzeria. Pinocchio is holding a small box with Geppetto’s to-go slices.

We pass by the puppet theater and reach the seashore. It smells like salt and summer. The water goes out as far as I can see. There are seven boats docked and a few sailing in the distance. Seagulls fly overhead. The waves crash against the shore.

“Look,” Jonah says, pointing at a small rowboat that’s docked. “It says Pinocchio on the side!”

I peer more closely at the rowboat. It does say Pinocchio! It must be Geppetto’s boat.

But where is Geppetto?

“Let’s look on the boat,” Pinocchio says. “Maybe he’s taking a nap. Or he left a note.”

“Okay,” I say. We all step onto the boat. There are three wooden seats and two oars. No sign of Geppetto. The cat and fox jump onto one of the seats and lounge. Pinocchio and Jonah take a seat and each grabs an oar. They pretend to row.

Except the boat moves!

It wasn’t anchored to anything.

Ahhh! We’re moving. And we don’t even have life jackets on!

“Try rowing back to shore!” I cry to Jonah and Pinocchio.

But Pinocchio drops his oar. We watch it float away.

“I’ve still got my oar!” Jonah shouts, and rows it hard.

Until it, too, drops right out of his hand.

We watch that oar float away.

Oh, crumbs. This isn’t good.

“Um,” Penny says, looking out at the water. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” Jonah asks, looking at where she’s staring.

Penny points to the left. “That.”

“Looks like a triangle swimming,” Jonah says.

“It does,” I say. As if a swimming triangle is a thing.

Mr. Cat stops grooming his face with his paw and looks over. “Either that, or it’s a whale-shark.”

Mr. Fox goes over to the side of the boat. “Oh, that’s definitely a whale-shark! The triangle you see swimming really fast toward us? That’s a fin.”

My eyes widen. I stare at the fin, which is headed for our boat.

“Whale-shark!” I cry.

Maybe it’s a small whale-shark. The fin isn’t very big.

Just then, the whale-shark lifts his head out of the water.

He’s huge. One of his eyes is the size of Mr. Cat. And he has a million super-sharp teeth.

The whale-shark uses his chin to tilt the boat.

Ahhhh! We all start to slide toward the end of the boat. The bow? The stern? After our trip to Neverland I should know what it’s called. But I don’t.

More importantly: We’re going to end up in the whale-shark’s mouth!

“Help!” Penny cries. “This is not as fun as I thought it would be!”

“Not fun at all!” Mr. Cat says.

The whale-shark opens his mouth even wider, exposing even more terrifyingly sharp teeth. This guy may be a giant, but he is not gentle. Carlo Collodi was clearly not a marine biologist. Or maybe something got lost in the translation.

“Everyone try to hang on!” I cry.

But I lose my grip on my side of the boat. I go tumbling right onto the whale-shark’s tongue! Nooooo!

Jonah falls in next. Then Penny. Then Pinocchio. Finally, the cat and the fox slide in, too.

The last thing to fall in is the box with Geppetto’s pizza.

The whale-shark clamps his mouth shut.

Oh, no.

This is not good. It’s cold and clammy and dark and slimy in here. And we’re getting tossed around like vegetables in a squishy salad.

“This is soooo gross!” Penny hollers.

It really is.

And then we hear a strange sound, like a vacuum.

Next thing I know, we’re being pulled backward.

“Everyone stay calm!” I call out.

Suddenly, it’s quiet. And dark.

“I think the whale-shark swallowed us!” Jonah cries.

Oh, great.

Penny turns on a light. “Glad I have the flashlight on my phone,” she says. “Where are we?”

“The whale-shark’s stomach,” I say. It’s just high enough for us all to stand. The ground is damp and spongy like wet sand at the beach. Blech.

It’s also super slimy. And huge — it’s the size of my garage. How big is this whale-shark?

“Ick!” Penny cries, looking absolutely miserable. “I’m covered in whale-shark belly slime!”

I am, too. It’s not ideal.

All of a sudden, Penny shines the light at a person standing at the other end of the whale-shark’s stomach.

Someone in a cap. A man who looks a little older than my dad.

Wait — is that Geppetto?

“Papa!” Pinocchio cries. “It’s you!”

Tears — or maybe it’s slime? — drip down Geppetto’s cheeks. He rushes over and grabs Pinocchio into a hug. “My boy!” he cries. “I was looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?”

“I went to school,” Pinocchio says. “But the wrong one. I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have left you. These are my friends,” he adds. “They helped me find you.”

“Thank you,” Geppetto says to us. “But I’m sorry I led you here.”

“How’d you end up in a whale-shark?” I ask Geppetto.

“I was sailing along the seashore, looking for my son,” Geppetto explains. “The whale-shark suddenly appeared, shook my boat, slurped me up, and swallowed me whole!”

“The same thing happened to us,” Jonah says.

Pinocchio finds the box of pizza floating. “I got this for you, Papa!”

Geppetto hugs him tight. “I’m starving!” He opens the box and gobbles up the slices. “Delizioso. The best pizza in Villaggio Pomodoro!” he proclaims.

“Okay, we have to get out of here,” I say.

“But how?” Penny asks.

“I have an idea!” Jonah says.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Let’s tickle the top of the whale-shark’s stomach,” Jonah says. “Maybe he’ll throw us up!”

“That’s the grossest thing I’ve ever heard,” Penny says.

“Grosser than being in here?” I ask.

“Good point,” she sighs.

“I think we should try the boy’s idea,” Geppetto says. “Pinocchio, hop on my shoulders. Reach up and tickle the whale-shark!”

Geppetto kneels down and Pinocchio gets on his father’s shoulders. Pinocchio stands up and starts wobbling, but Geppetto holds his legs steady.

Pinocchio reaches a hand up and tickles the top of the whale-shark’s belly.

We hear rumbly laughter.

“He likes it,” Mr. Cat says. “Maybe it’s like having behind his ears scratched. I definitely like that.”

The whale-shark keeps laughing. But we’re not being thrown up.

Crumbs.

“If only we could get near his mouth,” Geppetto says. “I could try to open his lips and we could all swim out.”

I look up toward the mouth. All I see are rows and rows of super-sharp teeth. I shiver. The only thing worse than being stuck in here would be getting chewed up in here.

“But then we’ll be out in the open sea,” I say. “The whale-shark will eat us again.”

“Good point,” Geppetto tells me.

“If only we had a raft,” Jonah says.

Pinocchio’s face lights up. “We could build one!”

“With what?” Penny asks.

“With our noses!” Pinocchio exclaims. “Every time Abby and I tell a lie, our wooden noses get longer and longer! If we tell a lot of lies, we’ll have enough wood to build a raft!”

Wow. It’s brilliant. Will it work?

“Tell a lie, Abby,” Penny says.

“I can’t think of anything!” I cry. “How about you ask me a question and I’ll answer with a lie?”

“Okay. Do you have a magic mirror in the basement of your house?” Penny asks.

“No!” I say. “I do not!”

My nose grows a whole inch!

“Lie, lie, lie!” Mr. Fox coaches.

“I hate school!” Pinocchio suddenly shouts.

His nose grows two inches!

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!” Jonah exclaims, and giggles.

“I love doing two hours of homework!” I say.

My wooden nose gets even longer.

We lie and lie and lie. Geppetto uses his pocketknife to cut off the long wood protruding from our faces. Thankfully, it doesn’t hurt.

“But we need rope to make a raft,” Geppetto says.

There is nothing ropelike in the whale-shark’s stomach.

“I have twine!” Penny exclaims. She opens her backpack and pulls out an entire roll of it.

“Um, why do you have twine?” I ask. I mean, I’m glad she does. But who carries twine around?

“Duh,” Penny says. “To make bracelets. I cut off a wrist-length amount and then slide beads on. Voilà!”

She holds out her arm and there, indeed, are three of her beaded twine bracelets.

Bravo for Penny! I don’t often say that.

Geppetto takes the twine and ties the wood branches together. He’s gonna need more wood to complete the raft.

“More lies!” he shouts.

“I hate chocolate!” I say.

My nose grows two inches.

“I love broccoli!” Pinocchio insists.

His nose grows three inches.

“My friend Frankie has blue eyeglasses,” I shout. “My friend Robin has brown hair!”

My nose grows five inches!

“I’m not mad at Frankie and Robin at all!”

My nose grows another two inches.

Ah, Frankie and Robin. They must be in their sleeping bags in their tent right now. It’s the middle of the night back in Smithville.

I bet they would never guess that Penny and I are in a whale-shark’s belly at this moment.

“Okay, I have enough wood now for the raft and even a couple of oars to row it,” Geppetto says. “Pinocchio, come help your papa!”

“I’ll help, too!” Jonah calls.

“And me!” I add.

“You’re all such hard workers,” Mr. Fox says. “Good for you!”

“No pain, no gain!” Mr. Cat says, leaping closer to push the branches together.

For the next twenty minutes, we all help Geppetto assemble the raft and the oars.

“It’s ready!” Geppetto says. He steps back to assess his work.

The fox slowly climbs on board with his cane. “Seems sturdy!” he confirms.

The cat leaps up beside the fox.

“Okay, everyone on!” I say. I can’t wait to be on the wood and not in the gross slime at the bottom of the whale-shark’s belly.

Once we’re all on the raft, Geppetto gets in front. “My weight will tilt us toward the mouth!” he explains.

The raft starts moving! Yay!

I grab an oar. “Penny, will you help row?” I ask.

“Sure!” she says. “I’m very strong.”

She picks up an oar and moves to the other side of the raft.

“Row!” I call out.

We row and row. With the help of the raft being kind of tilted, we easily glide to the whale-shark’s mouth.

But then the raft stops.

Because his giant chomping teeth are in the way.

And his mouth is closed.

“How will we get his mouth to open?” I ask.

“We can try tickling again,” Jonah suggests. “That way, he’ll open his mouth and we can row right out!”

“Good idea!” Geppetto says, and stands up. “Okay, whale-shark,” he says, “get ready to laugh!”

He reaches up and tickles the roof of the whale-shark’s mouth.

We’re all holding our breath.

I hear a rumble. It’s coming from deep in the creature’s stomach.

We could really use a belly laugh about now.

Geppetto tickles the top of the whale-shark’s mouth again. And again.

The whale-shark opens his mouth … light filters in …

But then he closes it.

Crumbs.

“I wish we had something we could wedge in his mouth to keep it open,” I say.

We all look around. There’s nothing. We’re trapped.

“That was a really dumb idea, Abby!” Pinocchio says.

I glare at Pinocchio. That wasn’t nice. How dare he! After all I’ve tried to do for him!

“You think of —” I start to snap.

But Pinocchio’s nose has grown five inches!

He doubles over in laughter. “I was lying, silly! To make a tall stick we can wedge between the top and bottom of the whale-shark’s mouth! Great idea, Abby!”

I need to lie some more!

“My brother, Jonah, is five years old,” I announce.

Totally not true. A big fat lie.

Jonah laughs and points. “Your nose is super long now!”

I touch it. It is!

“Tell a lie about me!” Penny says excitedly.

“Penny is not a good friend!” I shout.

My nose grows two inches!

Penny blushes and smiles. “Aww, that means you think I’m a good friend!”

“Well, you’ve been amazing this whole day,” I say. “Thank you, Penny.”

My nose shrinks a tiny bit. Penny grins.

“We have enough for a really tall stick now,” Geppetto says. He uses more of Penny’s twine to tie the sticks together.

Yes! This is working.

“Okay, Pinocchio, get on my shoulders again and tickle,” Geppetto instructs.

Pinocchio climbs up and begins prodding.

We hear a rumble — and laughter. The whale-shark opens his mouth.

Yes!

“Now!” Geppetto cries, and wedges the long stick between the top and bottom of the whale-shark’s mouth.

His mouth stays open!

“Row, row, row!” Mr. Fox coaches. “You can do it, kids!”

Penny and I row as fast as we can. The edge of the raft hits one of the whale-shark’s super-sharp teeth.

Uh-oh.

“Keep rowing!” I cry.

The creature is shaking his head left and right, trying to dislodge the stick!

The stick is cracking.

“Row, row!” Mr. Fox coaches. “A little left. Now right. Now straight!”

Mr. Fox is being incredibly helpful. With him coaching us, I feel like we might escape those sharp teeth!

“You’re doing great, Abby and Penny!” Mr. Fox adds.

The stick holding open the whale-shark’s mouth breaks a little. The mouth starts to close.

“Row!” I cry. “Faster!”

We do, and we shoot right out of the mouth, onto the open sea.

We’re free!

But the whale-shark is still swimming after us!

I turn and see the whale-shark.

He’s just a boat’s length away from us.

And he looks really, really mad. He’s flashing his rows and rows of teeth at us.

What do we do?

“Psst! Pinocchio!” Mr. Fox says.

“What?” Pinocchio responds.

What is Mr. Fox up to? I watch as he leans closer to Pinocchio, but since I’m nearby I can hear what the fox says. “This isn’t going to work. We can’t all be saved. You float, right?”

“Yes,” Pinocchio says. “I learned that in science class.”

“Well, how about if I just use you as a raft? The two of us can sneak off and have adventures.”

I can’t believe it. After everything we’ve been through, Mr. Fox would just abandon the rest of us? Even Mr. Cat!

No one else seems to be hearing Mr. Fox. They’re too focused on the danger we’re in.

“But I am supposed to go to school —” Pinocchio says.

“School here is not that fun!” Mr. Fox argues. “You’ll have more fun with me. We’ll watch the puppet show every day and eat pizza.”

“No, thank you,” Pinocchio says firmly. “I’ve learned a lot the past couple of days. Hard work isn’t something to run away from. We worked hard in the whale-shark’s belly and look what we accomplished. We made a raft! And I’m proud of myself!”

“But —” Mr. Fox interrupts.

Pinocchio holds up a wooden hand. “No buts. I want to go to school every day. I want to learn. I want gold stars from my teacher and to move up to the next grade. I want recess and lunch and friends.”

“But you have me!” Mr. Fox says.

“I have my father. And I’ll make new friends at school. Sorry. But the answer is no.”

Geppetto must have heard the conversation after all, because he puts his arm around Pinocchio. “I love you, son.”

Where is Mr. Cat in all this? I turn to see him sitting on Penny’s lap.

Penny is protecting him.

I turn and see the whale-shark getting closer. Opening his mouth …

Are we going back in there? Is this all over?

Just when I expect the whale-shark to close his giant mouth over our raft, I see a streak of blue.

It’s sparkly and zigzagging in front of the raft.

Suddenly, right next to the swish of blue is a swoosh of purple!

Then I see the flutter of wings.

The blue and purple fade …

And there is Celeste with her blue hair and silver dress!

And right next to her is …

“Maryrose!” Jonah cries.

“Hello!” Maryrose calls out. “We’re going to help! Don’t worry!”

Yay!

Celeste swishes her hair back and forth.

We’re surrounded by a swirl of sparkles and the next thing we know, we’re all standing on the shore.

We’re out of the sea and safe from the whale-shark!

I make sure we’re all accounted for. Yup, there’s Jonah and Penny and Pinocchio, Geppetto, Mr. Cat, and Mr. Fox.

And hovering in the air right in front of us are Celeste and Maryrose.

I’m so happy to see Maryrose. She’s really okay!

I give her a quick hug.

“Thank you!” I say to her and Celeste.

“You’re welcome,” they say at the same time.

“Abby and Jonah,” Celeste says, “I can’t thank you enough for helping me with Pinocchio. And thank you, Penny, for helping, too!”

Penny beams. “No biggie,” she says.

“You’re welcome,” I respond, feeling proud, and Jonah grins.

“I told you,” Maryrose says to Celeste.

Celeste turns to Pinocchio. “You helped save your father and your friends. And when you had the chance to run away for fun adventures, you chose to stay. I’m so proud of you. Now I want to do something for you. And I know just the thing.”

“Yay!” Pinocchio exclaims. “What is it?”

Oh, oh, oh!

“How would you like to be a real boy?” Celeste asks.

Wow! How exciting! Just like in the real story!

I expect Pinocchio to say yes without hesitation. But he doesn’t.

He’s biting his wooden lip and looking at his feet.

Huh? What’s going on? Isn’t that what he wanted more than anything?

Geppetto looks at his son. “Pinocchio? I thought that was your dream.”

“Well, I don’t know anymore,” Pinocchio says with a shrug.

“How come?” Jonah asks.

“I can do a lot of cool things because I’m a wooden puppet,” Pinocchio says.

“Like what?” I ask.

“Like … I can float because I’m made of wood,” he responds. “And I can fold up and fit in a backpack. Right, Jonah?”

Jonah smiles. “True.”

“And if I tell a lie, my nose will grow,” he says. “That might be helpful for making wood next time we need to build a boat,” he adds. “Plus, it keeps me honest.”

I touch my own wooden nose. Tell me about it.

“And all that is what makes me special,” Pinocchio adds. “I’m me!”

“Aww,” I say. “That’s awesome.”

Penny nods. “It really is.”

“You rock,” Mr. Cat says, slapping him a high paw.

“You’re a very impressive puppet,” Mr. Fox adds.

Celeste smiles. “I understand your decision, Pinocchio,” she says. “And I’m even more proud of you than I was before.”

Pinocchio smiles, too. Then his smile fades. “There is something I want, though,” he says. “Really really bad.”

“What is it?” Celeste asks.

“If anyone can make it happen,” Maryrose says, “Celeste can.”

We all stare at Pinocchio, waiting for him to answer.

“What I want most of all,” Pinocchio finally says, “is a sibling! Like Abby and Jonah have in each other.”

That is so sweet!

I take my brother’s hand and squeeze it. “It is pretty great having a sibling,” I say.

“Most of the time,” Jonah teases, but he squeezes my hand back.

“But can you do that?” Geppetto asks Celeste. “Can you give Pinocchio a sibling?”

“Hmm,” Celeste responds. “That’s tricky. I can’t just conjure up a sibling out of nothing.”

“I know how Pinocchio can have a sibling,” Jonah says. He turns to Geppetto. “You can make a brother or a sister for him. A wooden marionette that talks and walks just like Pinocchio!”

Geppetto frowns. “I wish I could,” he responds. “But I was only able to make Pinocchio because he came from a magical piece of wood. And the carpenter who gave it to me told me that was the only magical wood he had.”

“Oh,” I say, frowning. Poor Pinocchio.

“I might have an idea,” Pinocchio says.

“What is it?” Celeste asks.

“I need a favor from Abby first,” Pinocchio says. “A big favor. But she might be mad at me and say no.”

What on earth is he talking about? A favor? Mad at him? For what?

“Why would I be mad at you?” I ask.

“Because I kind of — no, I did — take something from you,” he explains.

He has a very sheepish expression on his wooden face.

I tilt my head. What could he have taken? I’d expect Mr. Fox or Mr. Cat to take something … but not Pinocchio!

“What did you take?” Jonah asks.

Pinocchio reaches into Jonah’s backpack and pulls out … my Cali Doll!

I laugh. I should have known! It was so clear when he was at my house that Pinocchio liked Raina and really related to her.

“Abby,” Pinocchio says, “I’m sorry I took Raina without asking you first. But I was wondering … is it okay if I ask Celeste to make your doll come alive like me? She can be my little sister.”

Aww!

“Yes,” I tell him. “Next time you really should ask someone before taking anything of theirs. But it’s okay.”

“Thank you, Abby!” Pinocchio says. “Celeste?”

We all turn to Celeste to see if it’s possible. Can she turn my Cali Doll into a sibling for Pinocchio? My heart races. Is Raina going to come alive?

“I can do it!” Celeste announces. “I can use my magic to make the doll like you, Pinocchio. She’ll be able to walk and talk and eat and laugh and make friends.”

Celeste gives her long blue hair a swish. A spell book appears in her hand.

“I need to look for the exact spell to use,” Celeste says. “Since this isn’t part of the story.” She flips through the book.

“What story?” Pinocchio asks again.

Penny and I share a glance. She smiles. So do I.

“Your story,” Celeste says, also smiling. “Ah, got it. Okay, Pinocchio. Put the doll down so she has some room.”

He sits Raina down against a tomato tree, then steps back.

Celeste closes her eyes, then swishes her hair back and forth four times.

Sparkly blue haze covers my Cali Doll completely. Then the blue haze clears.

The doll — Raina! — stands up.

I gasp. I can’t believe it.

Raina is a little shorter than Pinocchio. Her eyes are sparkling and she smiles. She looks exactly the same as she did as a doll … but she’s alive!

“Um, hi?” Raina says, looking at all of us. She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Raina!” Pinocchio cries. He runs over to her and takes both her hands. “I’m Pinocchio. You’re my new sister. Welcome to the family!”

“Thank you!” Raina says. She turns to me. “Hi, Abby! So nice to meet you! Can I have a hug?”

Yes, yes, yes! I have no words. My doll has come to life!

I give Raina a hug. I can’t believe it.

“Raina and I are going to school tomorrow,” Pinocchio says. “It’ll be so much fun.”

“I have always wanted to go to school,” Raina says. “I have a notebook and backpack and everything.”

“Celeste, thank you,” Pinocchio says, looking a little teary. “And thank you, Abby.”

“My pleasure,” I say. “I’m happy to help.”

“Just like I knew you would,” Maryrose adds. “It’s why I sent Celeste to you and Jonah.”

I beam at the praise. “Everyone gets a happy ending.”

“What about us?” Fox asks. “Mr. Cat and I get nothing!”

“You tried to lure Pinocchio away,” I tell Mr. Fox. “It’s hard to trust you.”

“Well, there isn’t anything else I can do except try to trick people,” he says, his voice quivering.

“That’s not true,” Jonah says. “You should be a coach.”

“A coach?” Mr. Fox repeats.

Jonah nods. “Yeah, like for a sports team. You were so helpful at gym class in Smithville. And you coached us to row out of the whale-shark.”

Mr. Fox nods. “I did do that!”

“Maybe they would hire you at the school here,” I say. “You could be the assistant gym teacher.”

“Ooh,” Pinocchio says. “I can ask at the front office tomorrow morning. I’ll tell the principal how good you are at helping. I bet she’ll want to hire you.”

Mr. Fox beams. “I’d love that.”

“And you can live in our yard, Mr. Fox,” Geppetto tells him. “You too, Mr. Cat. Until you find a place of your own.”

Mr. Fox bows his head. “That’s very kind of you.”

“I was thinking,” Penny says as she bends down to pet Mr. Cat. The cat’s black-and-white tail swishes and he rubs against Penny’s leg. “If Mr. Cat agrees, I’d like to adopt him. My parents said I could choose a pet. And I choose him!”

“I say yes,” Mr. Cat says with a purr.

I wasn’t expecting that! I turn to Maryrose and Celeste. “Can Penny take the cat home? Is that allowed?”

“We brought Prince home from a fairy tale,” Jonah reminds me. “So it should be!”

Maryrose smiles. “I think it’s great.”

Celeste nods. “Me too.”

“I’ll miss you,” Mr. Fox says to Mr. Cat. “But I’ll be busy coaching gym class now. You should have your own adventures.”

Penny starts jumping up and down, the cat in her arms.

“Mr. Cat,” Celeste says, “once you get to Smithville, you won’t be able to talk. You’ll turn into a real cat. Just meowing and purring.”

“A real cat!” Mr. Cat says. “That’s wonderful. And I know Penny will be able to understand my meowing and purring.”

“I definitely will,” Penny agrees.

“We should get you home before your parents wake up,” Maryrose says to me and Jonah.

I’m not sure what time it is back home, but it’s Saturday. My parents will call us down for breakfast at nine A.M. I don’t want to miss my dad’s chocolate-chip pancakes.

But I am going to miss everyone I met in this village.

I hug Pinocchio, Geppetto — and of course Raina — good-bye. I tell Mr. Fox he’s going to be a great gym assistant.

I have so many questions for Maryrose. I can’t wait to ask her where she’s been and what’s going on.

But before I can, she says, “Abby, Jonah, I have to get back to Tink now. She’s stuck in … well, I can’t say yet, but I’ll be back soon to see you, okay?”

She disappears in a swish of purple.

At least I know we’ll see her again.

“Should we go to the park?” I ask Celeste. “To the portal in the tomato tree?”

“No need,” the blue fairy responds. She swishes her blue hair back and forth. A large, shimmering blue portal appears in midair.

“Just walk through,” she says.

So we do. And suddenly we’re in our basement! Penny, Jonah, me, and the cat in Penny’s arms.

We run up the stairs back to my room. Prince is napping on my bed. He wakes up when he sees us. He takes one look at the cat in Penny’s arms and growl-woofs.

“It’s fine,” I whisper to Prince, giving his head a pat.

Mr. Cat bows his head to Prince, as if he’s apologizing.

Prince hesitates and nods.

I think they just made a truce.

So, Penny, what are you going to name your new cat?” my mom asks at breakfast that morning.

Good question. I want to know, too.

We’re all sitting at the dining room table. The cat is lounging on a folded-up blanket my dad set up for him in the corner. He’s grooming himself. Prince is on a pillow across the room, still eyeing the cat with suspicion.

“I’m deciding,” Penny says. “I have around twenty ideas so far. And I made a list of everything I want to get for him.”

“Like what?” Jonah asks. He takes a huge bite of his chocolate-chip pancake.

“Like a pink rhinestone-studded collar,” Penny says. “Really cute food and water dishes with little paw prints on them. Catnip toys and string toys and little balls for him to chase. Plus a cushy kitty bed for my room.”

I laugh. That is one lucky cat.

“Maybe I can come over sometime and play with Mr. Cat,” I say. “I mean, the cat.”

“Any time,” Penny says with a big smile. “I can’t believe a cat snuck into my overnight bag yesterday! I have no idea how that happened!”

“Me neither,” I say.

And then feel my nose grow an inch. Oops. I forgot it still does that. I have to remove this splinter.

After breakfast, Penny’s parents pick her up. They’re heading right for the pet store to get everything on Penny’s list, and then over to the spa. Knowing Penny, she’ll try to get the cat an appointment at the spa, too.

I head to the bathroom and get the tweezers.

Here we go.

I carefully angle the tweezers toward the splinter and squeeze gently. Got it. A tiny piece of Pinocchio magic. Gone.

I throw the splinter away in the garbage can, and then look up into the mirror. My nose no longer resembles a twig. It’s just my nose again.

“I don’t like going into stories,” I whisper to test it out. “I’m not mad at Frankie.”

My nose doesn’t change.

But maybe I have?

I go into the hallway. The family iPad is on the hall table. I take the iPad into my room and close the door.

Then I sit on my bed and press in the numbers for Frankie.

I take a deep breath and let it out.

I have no idea how this conversation is going to go. Or if she’s going to get a signal out in the woods.

Frankie’s face appears on-screen.

“Abby!” Frankie says with a smile.

She’s sitting on a fallen log near their tent. A campfire is nearby.

“Are you and Robin having fun?” I ask.

“It would be more fun if you were here,” Frankie says. “But yes. We told scary stories last night and roasted marshmallows. Robin is in the tent taking a nap right now.”

“Look,” I say. “I wasn’t honest with you.”

“About what?” Frankie asks.

Tell her, I order myself. You’ll feel so much better once the truth is out.

“I felt really sad that you invited Robin instead of me on the camping trip,” I say. “Even though I do hate bugs.”

Frankie nods at me, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry, Abby. I just thought … well, I thought Robin would appreciate it more. Because she likes camping.”

“I get it. And you have a right to invite whoever you want! But I pretended I was fine with it, when I should have just admitted I was upset. But I do understand your choice and I’m sorry I was acting weird instead of being honest.”

“Thank you for being honest with me — I appreciate it!” Frankie says, and I feel my heart swell. I realize that being honest is such an important part of being a good friend.

“So, what did you do last night?” she asks me.

“Actually,” I say, “I ended up having a sleepover with Penny.”

“What?” she responds. “Are you serious?”

I smile. “Yup! And she adopted a cat that she found.”

Okay, that part isn’t entirely true.

I touch my nose. Same old nose.

Frankie says she’s excited to meet Penny’s new cat and to see me when they get back tomorrow. Then Robin appears on the screen next to Frankie.

“Hi, Abby! How’s Pinky?” she asks.

“He had to go home,” I say with a smile.

I tell Frankie and Robin good-bye, and I really do feel better about everything.

I put the iPad back on the hall table and go into my room.

Something occurs to me.

When I first got home from Villaggio Pomodoro, I realized Pinocchio wouldn’t be on my jewelry box, because he’s from a book, not a fairy tale.

I hurry over to my bookshelf and glance at the spot where my Cali Doll used to be. I miss her. But I’m glad she and Pinocchio are siblings now.

I take The Adventures of Pinocchio off my shelf and sit down on my bed. I flip through the book — and OMG.

The illustrations are different! Now, instead of just pictures of Pinocchio, there’s someone else.

Raina! My Cali Doll come to life.

They’re in school, sitting next to each other in the classroom. There’s a homework assignment on their desks, each with a gold star on top. I flip a few pages and see them in gym class. With Mr. Fox coaching! Ha!

Aww. They all look so happy.

I’m so happy for them.

And that is the one hundred percent, absolute truth.

Turn the page for a sneak peek at a Best Wishes #4: Like A Boss!

This isn’t junk mail!

I know that: 1) You don’t know who I am, and 2) if you’re like my grandmother, who I call Dadi, you probably think this is some kind of scam.

But I promise … it’s not a scam. Or junk mail.

My name is Maya Amir, and I live in Washington, DC. And before I say more, don’t put on the bracelet yet. Please! Read to the end of this letter first. You will thank me later.

You’re probably even more confused now, huh?

I think the best way to explain is to just tell you everything that happened to me. And then you’ll understand. But seriously, take that bracelet off if you’re already wearing it! I mean it!

*  *  *

It all started on Friday, which is my favorite day of the week. Every Friday, my family does movie night at home and we order takeout from our favorite Thai place.

Not that my older sister and brother EVER let me pick the movie—I’m the youngest, and I don’t get a lot of say— but it’s still super fun.

Most importantly, this Friday was the first day of club meetings after school. Which meant I would finally, FINALLY get to be in the environmental club with my best friend, Hazel Garcia.

It was 2:45 p.m., and I could barely pay attention in class. I had wanted to be in the environmental club for years, but it was only for fifth graders. Now that I was in the fifth grade, this was my chance to share some of my big ideas for helping the planet.

My teacher, Ms. Sokolov, was reviewing a social studies worksheet about constitutional power and the branches of government. I half listened, waiting for the final bell to ring.

“Laws are voted on by Congress in the Capitol Building, right here in our very own backyard,” Ms. Sokolov said.

The teachers at my school, Summit Elementary, love to brag about the fact that we’re close to all the famous national monuments here in DC. Although we’re not that close. You can catch a glimpse of the dome of the Capitol out the window, but only if you really crane your neck.

The bell rang and I jumped out of my seat.

“Your short story assignment is due on Monday!” Ms. Sokolov called while we all rushed to pack up our things. “And as you leave, you can each choose one of the cupcakes Leo’s mom dropped off. Happy birthday, Leo!”

Leo Rosenblatt turned bright red. He’s quiet and doesn’t like being the center of attention.

But, yay, cupcakes!

Hazel and I stepped up to the teacher’s desk and checked out the options.

Chocolate- chocolate. Vanilla- chocolate. Red velvet. Vanilla with purple icing. Which one did I want? My stomach grumbled. So many choices …

I’m not great at choosing. I’m always worried I’m going to pick the wrong thing.

Hazel grabbed a red velvet cupcake and licked off a chunk of the icing. “Yum. My favorite. Take one, Maya! There’s only one red velvet left.”

Um … um … but did I really want red velvet?

Another girl in our class, Maddie Northrup, stepped up and picked the last red velvet cupcake from the box while I was still deciding.

Darn it.

Hmm. The chocolate-chocolate one looked good, but what if it was too chocolatey? The vanilla one looked good, too, but what if its purple icing stained my lips?

I picked the vanilla one with chocolate icing, then immediately regretted it. What a boring choice. But it was too late to change my mind.

“Ready?” Hazel asked, still licking her icing. She was wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, which looked a whole lot like my outfit, except her T-shirt said Supergirl on it, and mine said Shenandoah National Park. We’ve always dressed a lot alike, although we don’t look anything alike. I’ve got brown skin, dark brown eyes, and dark, thick, wavy hair that comes to my shoulders. Hazel has long, light brown hair and light brown eyes. Plus, I’m at least three inches taller than my bestie and I’ve got purple-framed glasses. Purple is my favorite color.

I really should have taken the cupcake with the purple icing. Purple lips would have been cool.

“Ready,” I repeated as I followed Hazel out the door.

Hazel was also excited about the club. Maybe not as excited as I was, but she is really into science. Last year, we got an honorable mention in the science fair for our very cool yet very disgusting project on mold. It was my idea—I have a lot of ideas, actually—and Hazel liked that one the best.

Today, I had a ton of ideas for the environmental club. I’d written them all down in my new biodegradable notebook that I was bringing to the meeting. I couldn’t wait!

Hazel and I walked into Ms. Maxwell’s science room. Ms. Maxwell is the club’s sponsor. There were eight other kids there.

“Hi, everyone, welcome to the environmental club!” Ms. Maxwell said in her cheery way. She had her curly hair pulled into a messy bun on top of her head, and she twirled a pencil between her fingers as she talked. “I know you’re all here because you care about the future of our planet, and the ways we can ensure it’s a nice place to live for a long time.”

Everyone murmured their agreement. Hazel and I took our seats and I quietly nibbled on my cupcake, feeling hopeful. This was going to be great.

“First off, we need to elect a club president,” Ms. Maxwell continued. “Who would like to nominate themselves for the role?”

Oh, wow. President? I didn’t realize there were presidents of clubs! Being the president would mean I’d definitely get to share all my ideas with the group.

I could be president.

Could I?

Maybe?

Hazel turned to me.

“You should do it, Maya!” she whispered.

“Me?” I mumbled with my mouth full. Nervous excitement sent a shiver through me. I’d never been in charge of anything before. “What about you?” I asked Hazel.

“I’d be great, too. One of us should definitely be president!” Hazel said. “Who knows more about the environment than we do?”

Hazel had a point.

Not to brag, but I do know a lot about the environment, mostly because Dadi has taught me so much. My grandmother used to head an environmental protection organization in Pakistan before she moved in with us here in DC. And now Dadi and I do cool projects together, like our indoor hydroponic garden. We started off small, but slowly our garden took over half the storage room. You should see the stuff Dadi and I grow together—everything from cilantro to hot peppers.

And then I got Hazel interested in the environment, too, by showing her how it all connected to science, which Hazel loves.

“Anyone?” Ms. Maxwell asked, looking around the room.

My heart pounded. Should I raise my hand?

I imagined going home and telling my family that I was president of the environmental club. They’d be so surprised! And Dadi would burst with pride.

Although … Hazel was better at making decisions than I was. In fact, she usually made decisions for me.

Should I let Hazel do it instead? I wondered.

But I had all these new ideas, written in my notebook! But what if nobody liked my ideas?

I didn’t know what to do.

Hazel looked at me with her eyebrows raised, and I shrugged, still debating whether or not to nominate myself.

Ms. Maxwell clicked her pen. “Okay, well, if there isn’t anyone interested, I will just—”

“I’ll do it,” Hazel said. “I’ll be president.”

She will?

“Great!” Ms. Maxwell said. “Anyone else want to put in their name? We could vote.”

Even though I kind of wanted to raise my hand, I was frozen. How could I run against Hazel?

I couldn’t. That had to be against the best friend rules.

Right?

I glanced at Hazel, who looked nervous and bit her lip while we waited to see if anyone else nominated themselves.

The way she squeezed my arm in excitement made it clear to me: I couldn’t run against her.

“If there are no other candidates, then you are our president, Hazel Garcia. Congratulations!” Ms. Maxwell handed Hazel a folder. “I’ll be at my desk grading papers if you need me, but you should all get started and discuss your plans for the club.”

Hazel grinned at me, and then stood up and faced the group, blushing a little.

I swallowed my disappointment. It’s fine, I thought. I can still contribute as a regular member, if not the leader. And anyway, I’m sure Hazel will listen to all my ideas, so I’ll still make a difference.

“Hi, everyone,” Hazel said. “I think the first thing we need to do is make this club bigger and better than ever before. We could use more members, right?”

I was sort of surprised that was Hazel’s first priority, but I supposed bringing in more members couldn’t hurt. Everyone nodded.

“So …” Hazel paused for dramatic effect. “Let’s advertise all over the school.”

“Why don’t we put up lots of posters in the hallway?” a girl named Cassandra suggested. “And make flyers to hand out to students.”

“Good thinking!” Hazel said, beaming.

What? I stared at Hazel as hard as I could, but she was focused on Cassandra.

“We can decorate the posters and flyers with paint and glitter,” Cassandra continued, and Hazel nodded.

“Isn’t using all that paper, you know, bad for the environ—” I started to say.

“And we could have a big party to kick off the year!” Hazel interrupted me. “Maybe we could get Leo to join the club, so his mom could donate some more of those cupcakes, because they’re the best I’ve ever tried.”

“What about trying something like composting, or—” I said, a little louder.

But nobody, including Hazel, was listening to me. They were all pumped about the party idea and started discussing their favorite cupcake flavors and what kind of glitter to use for the posters. It was like I wasn’t even there anymore, and my stomach started churning. This was definitely not the club I’d been waiting to join for the past two years.

I mean, I love parties and cupcakes—who doesn’t? But not for the environmental club! We were supposed to do things like stop waste, and plant trees, and make a difference. And besides, glitter is a microplastic and totally a pollutant!

“We’ll talk about it more next week,” Hazel said. “Also, Fridays are meant for relaxing, so if it’s okay with Ms. Maxwell, let’s have our regular meetings on Mondays. Ms. Maxwell?”

“Hmm?” Ms. Maxwell asked, looking up from her papers.

“Can we move this meeting to Mondays?”

“Sure,” Ms. Maxwell replied.

That was the only suggestion from Hazel that made sense to me. But I didn’t know if I wanted to come back on Monday. I didn’t know if I still wanted to be part of this club. And I kind of felt like all of a sudden I didn’t know Hazel anymore.

“That was awesome, wasn’t it?” Hazel asked me as we left the room together. She looked so pleased that I didn’t know what to say to her.

“It was”— horrible! upsetting!—“interesting,” I said with a weak smile. And then I thought to myself, I guess things can’t get worse.

*  *  *

I was wrong.

Fifteen minutes after Hazel got picked up, I was still sitting on the bench outside school, waiting for my older sister, Natasha. She’s in high school, and she picks me up if I don’t take the school bus home. But she was so late today. Ugh!

I finally went to the main office and called her.

Natasha has her own phone. I do not.

“Maya?” Natasha answered. “Where are you?”

“I had my club meeting after school. Aren’t you supposed to get me?”

Silence.

“Oh my gosh, Maya. I forgot! Dadi needed me to get some stuff from the desi store and … I’ll be there as fast as I can!”

When Natasha finally pulled up in our green minivan, I was literally the last person other than the custodian still at school. And I was furious.

“I can’t believe you forgot me,” I sulked on the ride home.

“I’m sorry!” my sister said again. “You should have reminded me this morning.”

“I’ve been talking about my club meeting for weeks,” I grumbled.

“I don’t remember … What club is it?”

“Never mind,” I said as I tried to shake off my frustration. I didn’t want to talk about the club, or how the meeting had been a disaster, anyway.

At least I had movie night to look forward to. I just hoped my brother, Omar, wouldn’t pull the same prank on me that he had last week: He switched the candies in the boxes, so when I opened my favorite, sour gummies, I got stale raisins instead.

Yes. Stale raisins.

Omar’s obsessed with this YouTube show where a group of friends play practical jokes on each other and other people. It’s pretty funny, except that it inspires Omar to prank our whole family. The other day, he placed black steel wool in the shape of a spider on our dad’s pillow, because Baba gets freaked out by anything that crawls. And it worked! Pranks are really big with all the seventh-grade boys this year, apparently.

When Natasha and I got home, we found Dadi in the kitchen. She was wearing a stained Eiffel Tower apron over her flowing shalwar kameez, stirring a giant pot of chicken korma on the stove, and shouting orders at my parents and Omar, who were busy cleaning in the living room.

My grandmother is barely five feet tall, if you count the white-hair-streaked bun on top of her head, but when she speaks, people listen. And even though she usually mixes Urdu into her English, my siblings and I understand her perfectly. She’s been living with us for as long as I can remember.

“What’s going on?” I asked Dadi.

“Your auntie and Sabrina will be here in two hours,” Dadi said. “There’s so much to do!”

I frowned. This was the first I was hearing about this visit. My mom’s cousin and her daughter live in Pittsburgh. “Why are they coming?” I asked.

“Sabrina is touring colleges in the area,” Natasha explained.

“They’ll be staying in your room, Maya,” Dadi told me. “So you’ll be moving into my room with me.”

“They will? I will?” I asked. “No one told me!”

“Of course we did,” Natasha said, shaking her head. “Didn’t we?”

“No!”

I frowned. My family never tells me anything. It’s like they think nothing affects me because I’m the youngest, so there’s no need to include me in family business or decisions.

It’s super annoying.

“I already got your pajamas for you, but you should take out your clothes for tomorrow from your room,” Dadi told me as my parents walked into the kitchen. Mama was holding a duster, and Baba held the empty recycling bin.

“Why do Auntie and Sabrina have to stay in MY room?” I complained to my parents, even though I knew the answer.

“You’re the youngest, and it’s easiest for you to move,” Mama replied, exactly as I expected.

“What about movie night? Can we still do it?” I asked, somehow still feeling hopeful.

“Not tonight, kiddo,” Baba said, looking a bit disappointed himself.

Dadi shook her head. “It’s okay, we will do it next time! Now go, go and do what I asked. They’ll be here soon!”

I let out a sigh and went into my—for now—room to pick out clothes. Dadi had already vacuumed and made my bed. There was even a vase of fresh-cut flowers on my nightstand for our guests. How nice for them.

*  *  *

“And those are just the schools I’m looking at on the East Coast,” Sabrina said, taking another bite of daal.

The eight of us were sitting around the dining room table, and I kept fidgeting. Sure, I was happy to see my cousin, but she was mostly talking to Natasha, since they’re almost the same age.

Instead of watching a movie and eating my favorite takeout—shrimp pad thai—I had to have boring chicken korma, daal, and aloo gobi (Auntie’s favorite foods), and listen to even more boring college talk.

“Will you have any time for sightseeing?” my mom asked Auntie, who nodded. “Natasha, where do you think we should take them?”

“It depends.” Natasha started to rattle off suggestions a mile a minute, and my mind drifted back to the environmental club meeting. I was still upset with Hazel for stealing the presidency. Although maybe it was my fault for freezing up. But either way—her ideas were terrible.

“Earth to Maya,” Omar said, waving his fork in front of my face.

“What?” I said, snapping out of my thoughts.

“Auntie asked you what your favorite subject is,” Baba said.

“Um, I think it’s science,” I said. “Or history. I really like math, too, but I’m better at science. Or maybe English. I’m not sure.”

Auntie smiled. “Well, it’s good to have lots of interests,” she said while my face warmed from embarrassment. Why couldn’t I decide on something so simple?

“Omar and Natasha,” Dadi said, “please clear the plates while I bring out dessert.”

“What about Maya?” Omar asked. “Why doesn’t she ever have to do anything?”

“I’m still eating,” I pointed out.

“You’re eating slow on purpose,” Omar said.

“She never puts the dishes in the dishwasher properly anyway,” Natasha said.

“Leave her alone,” Dadi said, setting her hand protectively on my shoulder. Sometimes it was good to be the baby of the family. Dadi always looked out for me.

I glared at Omar and swirled the food around on my plate. Everything was all mixed up into a mush, just like my thoughts and feelings. How had this day turned out to be such a disappointing mess?

*  *  *

Dessert was followed by chai for the grown-ups, and more talking. Everyone asked Natasha about her future plans, how she rated all the kabob restaurants in town, and her opinion on some Indian movie. Natasha acts like she knows everything, and somehow everyone in my family believes it.

But the night still wasn’t over. I had to sleep on the old air mattress in Dadi’s room.

I love Dadi.

I do not love the old air mattress.

Especially when, in the middle of the night, I was tossing and turning and … phhhhhhhhhhhhhfffft! The air mattress gave up on its job and completely deflated.

Dadi doesn’t have a carpet in her room, so I was basically sleeping on a wooden floor. Ouch.

And then I heard …

CHHHHHHHHHHNNNOOOOOOOOORT.

Whiiiiiiiiistle.

CHHHHHHHHHHNNNOOOOOOOOORT.

Whiiiiiiiiistle.

I forgot that my grandmother snores. Loudly.

Argh.

As I tossed and turned, and turned and tossed, I stared at the ceiling and muttered to myself, “Worst day ever.”

I could see the lights in the hallway flicker through the crack under the door. A burst of cold air passed right through my blanket. Great. Now it was cold in here, too. I flipped back onto my stomach, pulled my pillow over my head, and tried again to fall asleep.

It’s the absolute truth that it takes a village bigger than Villaggio Pomodoro to write a novel!

Thank you to the Scholastic team: Aimee Friedman for everything, Lia Ferrone, Seale Ballenger, Rachel Feld, Katie Dutton, Erin Berger, Melissa Schirmer, Elizabeth Parisi, Cianna Sanford, Abby McAden, David Levithan, Lizette Serrano, Emily Heddleson, Elizabeth Whiting, and everyone in Sales and in School Reading Events.

As always, my amazing agent, Laura Dail. Hollywood friends, Austin Denesuk, Matthew Snyder, Berni Barta, Rachel and Terry Winter.

Extra extra extra appreciation for Lauren Walters.

Thanks to all my friends, family, and writing buddies: Bonnie Altro, Max Brallier, Julie Buxbaum, Jess Braun, Rose Brock, Jeremy Cammy, Anna Carey, Julia DeVillers, Elizabeth Eulberg, Alyson Gerber, Stuart Gibbs, Maurene Goo, Karina Yan Glaser, Adele Griffin, Emily Jenkins, Lauren Kisilevsky, Gordon Korman, Morgan Matson, Lauren Myracle, James Ponti, Zibby Owens, Melissa Posten, Melissa Senate, Rebecca Serle, Courtney Sheinmel, Jennifer E. Smith, Christina Soontornvat, Siobhan Vivian, Robin Wasserman, Mom, Dad, Robert, Louisa, and Aviva.

Love, thanks, and snuggles to Todd, Chloe, and Anabelle.

Sarah Mlynowski is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author and coauthor of the Whatever After series, the Best Wishes series, and a bunch of other books, including the Upside-Down Magic series, which was adapted into a movie for the Disney Channel. Originally from Montreal, Sarah now lives in Los Angeles with her family. Find her online at sarahm.com and @sarahmlynowski.

#1: Fairest of All

#2: If the Shoe Fits

#3: Sink or Swim

#4: Dream On

#5: Bad Hair Day

#6: Cold as Ice

#7: Beauty Queen

#8: Once Upon a Frog

#9: Genie in a Bottle

#10: Sugar and Spice

#11: Two Peas in a Pod

#12: Seeing Red

#13: Spill the Beans

#14: Good as Gold

#15: Just Dance

#16: Liar Liar

Special Edition #1: Abby in Wonderland

Special Edition #2: Abby in Oz

Special Edition #3: Abby in Neverland

Fairest of All: The Graphic Novel

Copyright © 2024 by Sarah Mlynowski

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available

First edition, July 2024

Cover design by Elizabeth B. Parisi

Cover illustration by Helen Huang, © 2024 Scholastic Inc.

Author photo by Heather Waraksa

e-ISBN 978-1-339-00168-5

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