she couldn’t explain that to her friends. So instead, she just told the other kids, “I meant we like our class a lot, too.”
“Yeah,” George agreed. “We have fun every day. Not just on special occasions.”
“Exactly,” Emma Weber agreed. “Class 4A is really great.”
“Maybe.” Suzanne shrugged. “But our party is going to be incredible. Nothing is going to top it.”
Chapter 3
“Andy, you’re a grouper. That’s a predator fish,” Mr. G. said as he walked around the room after lunch. He was assigning everyone their fish to research. “Emma Stavros, you’re an angelfish.”
“That’s because I’m always so good,” Emma S. said with a smile.
“Kadeem, you’re a red snapper,” Mr. G. continued. “Mandy, you’re an anthias.”
“Anthias? I never heard of that fish,” Mandy said.
“And Kevin, you’re a frog fish,” said Mr. G.
“A frog?” Kevin asked curiously. “Like the ones that say rrbit, rrbit ? They’re not fish!”
“You’re a frog fish ,” Mr. G. corrected him. “I think you’ll find them interesting. They’re tough predators. They swallow their prey faster than almost any other fish.”
“That sounds like you, Kev,” George joked. “You eat faster than anyone. Even me. You ate that whole pint of grape tomatoes in five minutes last week.”
“Yeah, but tomatoes aren’t fish food,” Kevin reminded him. “At least I don’t think they are.”
“You’ll find out what’s on a frog fish menu when you do your research,” Mr. G. told him. He turned to Emma W. “You’re a predator, too,” he told her. “A swordfish.”
Katie couldn’t help but laugh. It was funny to think of sweet Emma Weber as a vicious swordfish.
“George, you’re a herring,” Mr. G. told him. “And Katie, you’re a clown fish.”
“Hey, Mr. G., don’t you think I should be the clown fish?” George argued with his teacher. “I am the funniest guy in the whole school!”
“Hey!” Kadeem argued.
“Well, I am,” George insisted. “Can’t Katie be a herring instead?”
Mr. G. shook his head. “Nope. No trading. But I think you’ll like being a herring.” The teacher pulled a silver and green kazoo from his pocket. “You get to use this.”
“A kazoo? Why?” George asked.
“Well, herrings make a funny noise when they’re communicating with each other,” Mr. G. said. “It kind of sounds like they’re passing gas.”
“Oh man!” Kadeem laughed. “George’s fish likes to cut the cheese!”
Everyone laughed.
George frowned. “Now I really think Katie should be a herring. She’s Katie Kazoo, remember?”
Katie smiled. How could anybody forget? George had given her that way-cool nickname last year, and it had stuck ever since.
But Katie didn’t want to be a fish with gas. No way!
“Okay, we’ll spend most of this afternoon researching our fish in the library,” Mr. G. said. “And then tomorrow, we’ll play Capture the Prey!”
“How do you play that?” Mandy asked.
“Well, it’s sort of like tag,” Mr. G. told her. “The three predator fish have to catch all of the prey fish. It’s up to the prey fish to stay away and keep safe.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun!” Emma W. exclaimed. “I love playing tag.”
“Me too!” Katie told her. “But I’m not going to let you catch me just because we’re friends.”
“Don’t worry,” Emma W. said. “I’ll eat the other kids first.” She grinned. “You can be my dessert.”
“Clown fish are really cool,” Katie told Jeremy as the fourth-grade kids walked out of school together at the end of the day. “They’re reddish-orange. My hair is almost the same color as they are—except the fish have three white stripes on them. I won’t get that in my hair until I’m really old.”
Jeremy laughed. Katie giggled, too. It was funny picturing herself as an old lady with streaks of white in her red hair.
Just then, George walked by, tooting his kazoo.
“What’s that for?”
“Yeah,” George agreed. “We have fun every day. Not just on special occasions.”
“Exactly,” Emma Weber agreed. “Class 4A is really great.”
“Maybe.” Suzanne shrugged. “But our party is going to be incredible. Nothing is going to top it.”
Chapter 3
“Andy, you’re a grouper. That’s a predator fish,” Mr. G. said as he walked around the room after lunch. He was assigning everyone their fish to research. “Emma Stavros, you’re an angelfish.”
“That’s because I’m always so good,” Emma S. said with a smile.
“Kadeem, you’re a red snapper,” Mr. G. continued. “Mandy, you’re an anthias.”
“Anthias? I never heard of that fish,” Mandy said.
“And Kevin, you’re a frog fish,” said Mr. G.
“A frog?” Kevin asked curiously. “Like the ones that say rrbit, rrbit ? They’re not fish!”
“You’re a frog fish ,” Mr. G. corrected him. “I think you’ll find them interesting. They’re tough predators. They swallow their prey faster than almost any other fish.”
“That sounds like you, Kev,” George joked. “You eat faster than anyone. Even me. You ate that whole pint of grape tomatoes in five minutes last week.”
“Yeah, but tomatoes aren’t fish food,” Kevin reminded him. “At least I don’t think they are.”
“You’ll find out what’s on a frog fish menu when you do your research,” Mr. G. told him. He turned to Emma W. “You’re a predator, too,” he told her. “A swordfish.”
Katie couldn’t help but laugh. It was funny to think of sweet Emma Weber as a vicious swordfish.
“George, you’re a herring,” Mr. G. told him. “And Katie, you’re a clown fish.”
“Hey, Mr. G., don’t you think I should be the clown fish?” George argued with his teacher. “I am the funniest guy in the whole school!”
“Hey!” Kadeem argued.
“Well, I am,” George insisted. “Can’t Katie be a herring instead?”
Mr. G. shook his head. “Nope. No trading. But I think you’ll like being a herring.” The teacher pulled a silver and green kazoo from his pocket. “You get to use this.”
“A kazoo? Why?” George asked.
“Well, herrings make a funny noise when they’re communicating with each other,” Mr. G. said. “It kind of sounds like they’re passing gas.”
“Oh man!” Kadeem laughed. “George’s fish likes to cut the cheese!”
Everyone laughed.
George frowned. “Now I really think Katie should be a herring. She’s Katie Kazoo, remember?”
Katie smiled. How could anybody forget? George had given her that way-cool nickname last year, and it had stuck ever since.
But Katie didn’t want to be a fish with gas. No way!
“Okay, we’ll spend most of this afternoon researching our fish in the library,” Mr. G. said. “And then tomorrow, we’ll play Capture the Prey!”
“How do you play that?” Mandy asked.
“Well, it’s sort of like tag,” Mr. G. told her. “The three predator fish have to catch all of the prey fish. It’s up to the prey fish to stay away and keep safe.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun!” Emma W. exclaimed. “I love playing tag.”
“Me too!” Katie told her. “But I’m not going to let you catch me just because we’re friends.”
“Don’t worry,” Emma W. said. “I’ll eat the other kids first.” She grinned. “You can be my dessert.”
“Clown fish are really cool,” Katie told Jeremy as the fourth-grade kids walked out of school together at the end of the day. “They’re reddish-orange. My hair is almost the same color as they are—except the fish have three white stripes on them. I won’t get that in my hair until I’m really old.”
Jeremy laughed. Katie giggled, too. It was funny picturing herself as an old lady with streaks of white in her red hair.
Just then, George walked by, tooting his kazoo.
“What’s that for?”
Similar Books
