A few hours later, I ate lunch with my friends Hector and Charlie.

Hector said, “Zeke, you seemed scared of Laurie’s caterpillars.”

I was embarrassed about being scared of bugs. I was super embarrassed about being scared of caterpillars. They were soft and furry, moved slowly, and didn’t even bite or sting or fly. But they still terrified me. I said, “Who me? Scared?”

Hector nodded. “Yes, you.”

“Were you scared of the caterpillars?” Charlie asked.

“Who, me?” I asked.

Charlie nodded. “Yes, you.”

I bit into my sandwich. Then I changed the subject. I asked, “Do you think I need a manners class?”

“You’re talking with your mouth full,” Hector said.

“And you have jelly dripping down your chin,” Charlie said.

“Don’t change the subject. Tell me if I need a manners class,” I said.

Hector burped. “Who cares about manners?”

Charlie licked applesauce from her fingers. “Adults care about manners. But who cares about adults?”

“My cousin Sam has good manners,” I said. “He also eats healthy food, washes people’s dishes, plays the violin, writes music, and makes people laugh.”

“Really?” Hector asked as he pulled some wax from his ear.

Charlie picked at a scab. “Your cousin does all that?”

I nodded. “He made you guys laugh a lot yesterday.”

“He didn’t make us laugh. We were laughing to be polite,” Charlie said.

“Yeah. If someone tells jokes, it’s polite to laugh. You don’t need a manners class to know that,” Hector said.

“I thought that you thought Sam was really funny,” I said.

“I thought that you thought Sam should think we thought he was really funny,” Charlie said.

“Huh?” I asked.

Charlie shrugged. “You seemed happy about having your cousin visit. And I wanted to be polite. So I laughed at his dumb jokes.”

“Me too,” Hector said.

I sighed. “I’m not very happy about my cousin now. He isn’t as great as I thought he’d be. And he isn’t as great as his parents think he is. Sam isn’t perfect. Don’t tell anyone, but he snores really loudly.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” Charlie said.

“If Sam didn’t try to act like he was perfect, I’d like him more,” I said.

“I like you guys, even though you’re not perfect,” Hector said.

“Same here,” I said. Then I realized something. I bet if my friends ever found out my biggest secret, that I was terrified of bugs, they’d still like me.

I decided to tell them. I said, “I have something to tell you. Something about myself. Something I’ve been keeping a secret. Something that may surprise you. Something unusual. Something —”

The bell rang.

I still had three more “something”s left before telling my big secret. But we had to get back to class.