Starsky, so we took a long walk after school. You could probably guess that I was in a bad mood, but Dodger was really on a rampage: “That teacher of yours is nuts. Get a smarter imaginary friend, she says. She thinks I’m dumber than a monkey. Just because I’m a little bit rusty in the spelling department. A smarter imaginary friend? Hmph!” “Uh, Dodger? No offense, but Mrs. Starsky doesn’t even believe I have an imaginary friend. She was just being sarcastic. She really thinks I was cheating with Craig.” “Oh, great, Willie. You’re saying she thinks I’m so imaginary that I’m not even really imaginary?” “Dodger, this isn’t about you. It’s about how this was the worst school day of my life. And how my mom is going to kill me.” “Dude, funny you should mention that. Because it’s time to start working on Part Two of the Three-Part Plan … .” By the time we walked in my front door, I was basically terrified. I now knew two parts of Dodger’s plan. The first was to “solve your Lizzie problem,”
