said Emma on the bus that afternoon. “I’ll bet Hamilton is just playing hide-and-seek,” said Gus. “A really, really long game of hide-and-seek.” Some kids in the middle of the bus were throwing a football back and forth. “No throwing things!” shouted the bus driver. “Or maybe he went on a trip,” said Emma. “Yeah,” said Gus. “Maybe he’s flying around the world. He could be anywhere by now!” I sighed. The ball flew past us. It was big and pink. And fluffy. It was for sure not a football. “Touchdown!” yelled one of the kids. “No football on the bus!” yelled the driver. “That’s not a football,” Emma pointed out. “It’s fuzzy. And it’s wearing a dress.” I looked. I swallowed. I jumped right out of my seat. Even though that’s a really bad idea on a bus. “THAT’S NOT A FOOTBALL! THAT’S MY PIG!!!” I screamed. The throwing stopped. The kids stopped. The BUS stopped. “Excuse me?” said the driver. “HAMILTON!!!” I ran over as fast as I could.
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