Principal Klein stands in front of our classroom doorway. He has just announced we have a field trip tomorrow. With all the excitement over the last few days, I completely forgot about our trip.

I think we all completely forgot about it.

“Of course!” our principal says. “A field trip to the Liberty Falls History Museum. Aren’t you excited?”

I wouldn’t use the word excited to describe our mood right now. I think I’d call us stunned, as in so stunned our mouths actually hang open like fly traps. We stare at our principal. Someone coughs.

“Certainly Ms. Bryce has taught you all about the history of our wonderful town?” asks Principal Klein.

She’s never mentioned a word about the history of Liberty Falls, not even by accident. But no one says anything.

“You all know how the town got its name, right?” asks our principal. He looks right at me, as if he expects me to blurt out the answer.

I put my finger under my collar. How did it get so hot in here suddenly? I look down and say to my notebook, “Because there used to be some sort of waterfall? And because liberty never falls, so it’s sort of ironic, maybe?”

“So you have learned!” Principal Klein throws out a broad smile. “Anyway, don’t forget to bring your signed permission slips before you get on the bus. Tell Ms. Bryce that Mrs. Frank will come by to collect them tomorrow morning.”

A moment later, he’s gone. The door is closed and no one in class dares to even breathe. But then Madelyn breaks the so stunned our mouths actually hang open like fly traps silence by asking the question on my lips. It’s the question on all of our lips. “How are we going to go on a field trip without a teacher?”

We all groan in unison.

“It’s over! I knew we’d be caught!” wails Maggie. “First the play, and now this!” She buries her face in her hands.

“Maybe we can just call the office and tell them Ms. Bryce is sick,” suggests Madelyn. “And then they’ll assign us a substitute for the day.”

Maggie looks up, hopeful.

“No way,” says Emmy. “Do you remember the last sub we had? Remember Drill Sergeant DeWitt? She made us do push-ups and run laps. She had a whistle around her neck, and whenever you answered a question wrong, she blew that whistle until your ears fell off. And then she made the entire class do fifty sit-ups.”

We all remember Mrs. DeWitt. How could we forget? I still have nightmares about her.

Cooper shivers more than the rest of us. After seeing him sneak a candy bar bite, Mrs. DeWitt made Cooper run three laps around the school. And it was raining.

Cooper puts the chocolate bar he’s holding into his backpack, as if Mrs. DeWitt is peering inside some magical faraway crystal ball, watching him snack.

No one wants Mrs. DeWitt back for even one day. And what if she stayed for two or three days? What if she became our permanent teacher?

There are continued moans across the class.

“My mom could take us,” Jasmine suggests. “She loves museums.”

“But won’t she wonder where our real teacher is?” asks Eli.

“It’s too risky,” says Madelyn, and we all nod in agreement. “They would discover our secret, for sure.”

Our incredible secret is unraveling like a giant ball of rolling yarn swatted by a determined kitty.

“If anyone finds out, then you’re all sock haters, which means you smell like a sock or whatever!” yells Brian. “I don’t want to repeat fifth grade.”

“The Class That Repeated Fifth Grade.” Maybe that’ll be the next story I write. It’ll be about a class that has to repeat the same grade over and over and over again until they are all one hundred and four years old.

In my story, the teacher doesn’t age, though. So at the end, she’s the student and the students are all her teachers.

“Maybe we can keep our secret and still go on the field trip,” says Samantha. “I know an adult who will help us out and won’t ask any questions. He’ll pretend to be our teacher and everything.”

I turn my head and stare at Samantha. I wait for her to laugh and tell us that she’s kidding—that even her daddy can’t save us from this mess. But she sits there calmly.

“Are you sure?” asks Maggie.

“Pretty sure,” says Samantha. She nods her head energetically. “Very sure. Our secret will be safe with him.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” says Maggie.

No one else seems to have any other ideas, so we all agree that Samantha will supply a pretend teacher. Maggie immediately starts digging through Ms. Bryce’s desk. I figure she must be looking for the permission slips.

I have to admit that Samantha surprises me. I thought I already knew everyone in class. But I guess you really need to get to know someone well before you really know someone well. And maybe you can’t get to know someone just by watching that person from your desk.