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suspiciously.
    â€œSecrets?”
    â€œSorry, Mrs. Walker,” he said. “I can’t talk about it with you. It’s a secret for Eleanor.”
    After breakfast, the two kids went down by the stream to catch frogs.
    â€œWhere’s your dad?” David asked.
    â€œI don’t have one. It’s just Tabitha and me.”
    â€œOh. Does it make you sad?”
    â€œNo,” she said. “I don’t think of it much. I used to have a dad and a mom and a little brother. But they died. Now it’s just Tabitha and me.”
    â€œWas that your secret?” David said. “I haven’t told you mine yet.”
    â€œYeah, it’s kinda one,” she said.
    â€œWell, I promise not to tell,” he said and crossed his chest.
    Eleanor caught a frog.
    â€œMy dad’s going to war,” David said. “That’s my secret. He’s going on a secret mission to Iraq. You can’t tell nobody or it’ll sink ships. It’s a secret and no one knows but you and my mom and dad and me.”
    â€œWow,” she said. “That’s a good one.”
    â€œYeah, it is. We just found out this morning, and I had to run over and tell you.”
    She showed David the frog. It jumped out of her hand and they chased it across the bank until they lost it in the reeds.
    â€œYou ever eaten a frog?” David said. “My mom says they do that in France.”
    â€œYes,” Eleanor said. “I’ve eaten hundreds.”
    â€œYou lie,” he said.
    â€œNo,” she said. “I have. I was so hungry. I was hungry all the time. Frogs were good and I got good at catching them. I could bite them and swallow them all at once.”
    â€œEleanor, friends don’t tell fibs, unless you’re telling a tall tale.”
    â€œIt’s not a fib,” she said.
    â€œThen it’s a tale,” he said. “Go on. Tell me when you ate all them frogs.”
    â€œAfter my family died, I was not to be seen. I became a coyote and stayed that way for a long, long time. That’s when I ate all the frogs.”

CHAPTER EIGHT
    D avid met Eleanor in the library after school and she looked over his recent quizzes and saw how he was in trouble. She took the oldest and worked each problem out with him and then gave him problems of her own fabrication to practice on. They worked for ninety minutes before the janitor chased them out.
    â€œThanks, Eleanor,” David said, packing up his book bag. “I think I’m catching on. A little. I mean, I got that one right.”
    â€œIt’s not just the math, you’ve got to visualize electrons and atoms and molecules. See how they interact, attract, and repulse.”
    David groaned.
    â€œAlso, the stoichiometry gets harder. Those today were from a couple weeks ago.”
    â€œI’ve got to pass the test this week,” he said. “I’m doomed.”
    â€œNo, you can do it,” she said. “You only need a B-; that’s not hard.”
    â€œEasy for you to say,” he said. “I’m never going to be a chemist. I’m going to be a writer. Why do I need to know about acids and bases?”
    â€œI’ll help you every day,” she promised.
    â€œYou will?”
    Eleanor nodded. “Re-read the earlier chapters again if you can.”
    â€œOkay,” he said. “Thanks.”
    Eleanor collected her things, and they left the library together.
    â€œWait, I’ll walk you home,” he said.
    â€œMaybe next time,” she said and slipped away before he stopped her cold.
    She ducked behind the side of a building with a deft leap and a sprint. When David opened the door a moment later and surveyed the grounds, she was nowhere to be seen.
    â€œI’ll never figure you, Eleanor Anders,” she heard him say under his breath.
    Eleanor had neglected to call Tabitha about staying late after school. She knew her mother would be worried. But buoyed on