IT’S NEVER TOO LATE

I guess I could have talked to Flip about all this. Or Mom. Or even Mr. Fanucci. But I didn’t. To tell the truth, I didn’t want to admit to anyone that I’d walked away like that.

At least, I didn’t want to admit it to anyone real. So that night, I talked it over with Leo instead.

“I should have said something,” I told him. “If it weren’t for football, Miller would be torturing me, not them. And now I feel like a jerk all over again. It’s like there’s no right answer anymore.”

As usual, Leo was pretty good about making me feel better. Not only that, but he always has an awesome idea or two up his imaginary sleeve.

“You know, it’s not too late,” he said.

“Too late for what?” I said.

“To say something,” he told me.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” he said. “Just think about it.”

So I did. And that’s when the million little lightbulbs started going on. It was also when I started figuring out what I wanted to do for Ms. Donatello’s assignment.

The more Leo and I talked about it, the better it got. Ms. D wanted me to make a statement? Do my own original artwork? Set my sights high?

Done, done, and done.

But I was still going to keep it a secret, and I was still going to put it up where everyone could see it. Not only that, but this time it was going to go somewhere that Mrs. Stricker wouldn’t be able to take it down, no matter how hard she tried.

It was time to take Operation: S.A.M. to a whole new level.