A Friend For Adam, Page 3

Adam didn’t make it back to Helena’s home until the next day, when he dropped by after school on his way from the bus stop. He hung back as the other kids on his street went running home and darted up the walk to Helena’s house before anyone could spot him. He knocked nervously; sure, that Spitball wouldn’t want to see him again. “Adam!” Helena said, “Come in, Spitball was worried about you.”

  “Sorry,” Adam said as he ducked inside, “I had to stick around to keep my parents from getting mad at me.”

  “Well,” Helena said as Spitball came diving from upstairs, “I told you he’d come back.”

  Spitball crashed into the arms Adam hesitantly held out. “I wasn’t afraid,” he said with a chuckle. “I just thought you were in trouble.”

  “No,” Adam said, hugging the dragon. “Not in trouble.” He glanced up at Helena, “You said the girl who was with Cassie was named Amber, right?”

  “Right,” Helena said as Spitball scrambled over Adam’s shoulder and onto the top of his backpack.

  “Would that be Amber Merchant?” Adam asked.

  “Yes,” Helena said.

  “She’s in my class at school,” Adam said, “I have to share a desk with her.”

  “Now there’s some luck,” Helena exclaimed.

  “Her birthday is Saturday, and I’m invited,” Adam added. “She was inviting everyone and didn’t want me to feel left out.”

  “That is very nice of her,” Spitball commented. “Can I come?”

  “Of course you can,” Adam said eagerly, “I hoped you would.”

  “Today’s Wednesday, so you should have plenty of time to get to know Amber,” Helena said.

  “That’s two whole days,” Spitball said, “It’s going to last forever.”

  “Only if you think that way,” Adam told him, “don’t think about it and it will come faster.”

  “Are you sure?” Spitball asked.

  “Mom always says that,” Adam shrugged. “I need to get home though, are you staying here, or am I smuggling you back home?”

  “Smuggle away,” Spitball said. “Much as I like you, Ms. Helena, I want to be home with Adam.”

  “Of course,” Helena said, “turn around, Adam, and I’ll help Spitball get in the backpack.”

  “Thank you,” Adam turned around and held still as Helena and Spitball negotiated the backpack. Soon enough, he could feel Spitball’s head against his.

  “Different bag,” Spitball commented.

  “My good backpack,” Adam said, “for school. I like my green one, but Mom says it’s too old for school.” He looked back at Helena, “May I come see you again, Ms. Helena?”

  “Any time you want,” Helena said. “It’s nice to have company sometimes.”

  Adam grinned at her and let himself out of her house with a rushed “Bye!” He ran down the sidewalk for home, mindful of his cargo.