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little. “You must be mistaken, Dog. You can’t go to school.”
    â€œNo, I’m not,” I argue. “I promise. I’ve been trained on how to behave there. She has seizures there sometimes, too, remember? My job doesn’t end just because she leaves the house.”
    â€œSo you really have to go to school?” Chaucer asks with wide eyes.
    â€œYes, I really have to go to school.”
    Chaucer rolls over on his back and howls with laughter.
    I scowl at him. “You still don’t believe me?”
    â€œNo, I believe you,” he says between snorts. “But the very idea of it...it’s just so ridiculous! Dogs don’t belong in school.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause school is for humans . You will stick out like a Saint Bernard in a pen of toy poodles.”
    â€œI don’t care about that. I only care about watching over Kinsey.”
    â€œOh, wake up, Dog!” he cries, a grin still plastered to his face. “You are going to be miserable there.”
    â€œWhy do you say that?”
    â€œWell, first of all, you’ll have to deal with a teacher. You know about teachers, don’t you?”
    â€œUm, well...I had trainers at the facility. They were my teachers and I loved them. They always—”
    â€œNo, Dog,” he interrupts. “The classroom teacher is not the same. The classroom teacher will be ugly and mean. All teachers are. They spend all their time thinking of ways to torture kids. And she won’t want you in there. You will be a distraction for the kids while they’re trying to learn so she will be extra mean to you. She’ll hate you even more than she hates the kids. You’re big and hairy and smelly. She’ll spend even more time thinking of ways to torture you.”
    My eyes bulge out of my head. Kinsey has never mentioned how evil the teacher will be.
    Chaucer continues right along with his warnings. “And you and I both know that some mean kids get a kick out of being cruel to animals. Especially big, dumb dogs like you.”
    â€œHey, you can stop calling me names,” I protest weakly.
    He ignores me. “The other kids will play tricks on you and tell you how bad you smell. They’ll complain if they have to get too close to you.”
    I have no idea what to say to any of this. While I’ve never met a mean kid in person, I have heard about them. And I’ve never considered the fact that some of the kids in our class may, in fact, be those mean kids. Hmm. Is he right? Will the teacher not like me? Will she torture me? Will the other kids treat me bad?
    I can’t finish the last few bites of my food, no matter how delicious it is. I leave it in the bowl and walk into the dining room, taking my spot under Kinsey’s chair. Chaucer watches me go with a satisfied smirk on his face, then finishes off my canned food for me.
    Normally, I would never let him touch my food, but tonight I have too many other things on my mind to care.
    You have to be brave and strong , I remind myself. You’re Drake the Dandy.
    But right now, I don’t feel brave or strong, and I don’t feel like a dandy protector.
    Because now I’m not sure who is more terrified to face the next day—Kinsey or me .

5
    The Nightmare
    W hen Kinsey takes me to the classroom, the lights are dim. We stand in the doorway, unsure of what to do. In the center of the room there is a large cauldron. Slimy, oozing, green liquid glows in the dark room and boils over a little.
    From the back of the room, a woman creeps forward until she reaches the cauldron. The glow from the liquid illuminates her face. In the light, I see jet-black, stringy hair hanging down her back. Her large, brown teeth are crooked and her hooked nose is covered in warts.
    â€œOnly one more ingredient and my stew will be complete. But what’s missing?” Her voice is growly and fierce.
    Suddenly, she locks eyes with me from