Larson’s class. Cara usually sat by herself on the bus, but today LeeAnn Ennis slipped into the seat beside her. As the bus pulled away LeeAnn looked over her shoulder to watch Mr. Larson stomp back into the school. “He was so mad! I’ve never even heard of him getting mad before. But he was mad today, real mad. I can’t believe you wrote that, Cara! Oh . . . you know, I don’t think we ever met, but I’m in Mr. Larson’s class with you.” “I know who you are,” said Cara. “You’re LeeAnn Ennis. Ellen Hatcher is your best friend, you like Deke Deopolis, your sister is a cheerleader at the high school, and your mom is secretary of the Denton School PTA. Math is your favorite subject, you love cats, and you went to the big sleepover party at Betsy Lowenstein’s house last weekend.” LeeAnn’s mouth dropped open. “What, are you a spy or something? How do you know all that?” Feeling embarrassed, Cara smiled, something LeeAnn had never seen her do before. “No, I’m not a spy.
