Later, Mr. Dayberry chose Hunter to open the first door on the Advent calendar. Maybe he picked Hunter because Hunter had made a fort for Cheerio to sleep in out of an old baseball cap.
Hunter swaggered up to the front of the room with a goofy grin on his face. He wiped his right hand on his jeans. It took him forever to open the door because of the baseball glove on his left hand. We all held our breath.
When the little door finally popped open, Hunter’s face fell. “Mr. Dayberry? There’s nothing there.”
Everyone gasped, so I gasped too.
Mr. Dayberry frowned. “Open the next door, then, and take tomorrow’s treat.”
Hunter turned his baseball cap around backward. He took a deep breath and started loosening up the next little door.
But the same thing happened. Hunter’s face turned red.
Mr. Dayberry jumped up. In an instant he was in front of the table. He whipped off his glasses and peered into the two empty compartments. “I can’t get over it. Would they really have left out two treats?”
He picked up the calendar. “It’s light as a feather.” He shook it. “The calendar’s empty!” Mr. Dayberry shoved his glasses back on and looked out at the class.
Everyone looked back in shock except for Boris, who had his head down. I knew Boris was exhausted from working on Steggo all night. But everyone else thought Boris was sick. I could read their minds. They all thought the Advent calendar had been full of candy—and that now Boris was full of candy.
“Boris,” said Mr. Dayberry. Boris’s head popped up. Then he said,
“If anyone has anything to say to me after class, I’m available.”