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that really what “Cinderella” was about, or was it what she
needed
“Cinderella” to be about?
    “Thank you, Miss Bailey! Very well said,” Mrs. Peters said with the closest thing to a smile her face was capable of making.
    “Thank you for your time,” Alex said, and nodded to the class.
    “It’s your turn, Mr. Bailey,” the teacher announced. She was sitting so close to him that he could feel the warm breath from her nostrils on the back of his neck.
    Conner went to the front of the classroom, dragging hisfeet as if they were encased in concrete. He had never had trouble talking in front of the class, but he’d rather be anywhere in the world than presenting something in front of a teacher. Alex gave him an encouraging nod.
    “I chose ‘The Boy Who Cried Wolf,’ ” Conner said, going against his sister’s advice from the day before.
    Alex slumped in her seat, and Mrs. Peters rolled her eyes. This was very disappointing.
    “I know you’re all thinking I went with the easiest one,” Conner said. “Except, reading it again, I don’t think the story is about the importance of honesty. I think it’s about
high expectations
.”
    Alex and Mrs. Peters both raised an eyebrow. Where was he going with this?
    “Sure, the boy was a brat. I can’t deny that,” Conner continued, gesturing to the half-page paper he had written. “But can you blame him for having a little fun? Clearly his village was having a bit of a wolf problem, and everyone was stressed out about it. He was just a kid; did they really expect him to be perfect all the time?”
    His presentation may have not been the best, but it certainly was catching the class’s attention.
    “And it makes me wonder, why was no one watching this kid?” Conner added. “Maybe if his parents had kept an eye on him, he wouldn’t have been eaten. I think the story is trying to tell us to keep an eye on our kids, especially if they’re pathological liars. Thank you.”
    Conner never tried to be funny. He was just painfullyhonest about his thoughts and opinions. This honesty always amused his classmates, but never his teacher.
    “Thank you, Mr. Bailey,” Mrs. Peters said sharply. “You may sit down now.”
    Conner knew he’d blown it. He took his seat, resuming his position under his teacher’s cold stare and warm breath. Why did he even bother trying anymore?
    It wasn’t the end of a school day unless Conner left feeling completely worthless. There was only one person who was capable of making him feel better when he felt this way. Conner only wished he were still around….

    Mr. Bailey always knew when his son needed to talk to him. It didn’t have anything to do with observation or intuition, but with location. Occasionally, Mr. Bailey would get home from work and find his son sitting up in the oak tree in the front yard with a contemplative look on his face.
    “Conner?” Mr. Bailey would ask, approaching the tree. “Is everything okay, bud?”
    “Uh-huh,” Conner would mumble.
    “Are you sure?” Mr. Bailey would ask.
    “Yup,” Conner would say unconvincingly. He wasn’t as vocal about his troubles as his sister was, but you could see it in his face. Mr. Bailey would climb up the tree and have a seat on the branch next to his son and coax out what was troubling him.
    “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Mr. Bailey would continue. “Did something happen at school today?”
    Conner would nod his head.
    “I got a bad grade on a test,” he admitted on one occasion.
    “Did you study for it?” his father asked.
    “Yes,” Conner said. “I studied really hard, Dad. But it’s just no use. I’ll never be as smart as Alex.” His cheeks turned bright red with embarrassment.
    “Conner, let me fill you in on something that took me a long time to learn,” Mr. Bailey said. “The women in your life are always going to seem smarter; it’s just the way it is. I’ve been married to your mother for thirteen years, and I still