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asked Barry. “School doesn’t get out for another two hours!”
    “I had a doctor’s appointment after lunch,” Barry replied. “I convinced Mom to bring me here instead of back to school.” He
     grinned. “Getting my way has been the only good thing about this accident!”
    “I heard that!” Mrs. Streeter called.
    “Come on, let’s go to my room,” Julian said. Then he looked at Barry’s crutches. “If you think you can handle the stairs,
     that is.”
    “No sweat,” Barry said confidently. “How do you think I get to my own room every night?”
    “I hadn’t thought of that,” Julian admitted.
    “Yeah, that’s you all over—thoughtless!”
    “Ha, ha,” Julian said. “At least let me take your backpack.”
    “Nah, I can handle it.” As if to prove his point, Barry swung forward on his crutches, making his way out of the kitchen and
     into the living room where he maneuvered deftly through the boxes and around the spilled books. Then he hopped up the stairs.
    “At least your room hasn’t changed,” Barry said as he flopped down onto Julian’s bed. “Still filled with mementos from last
     season, huh?” His voice sounded wistful.
    “And one thing from this season, too,” Julian said, pointing to the autographed basketball. Then he took a framed photograph
     of the previous year’s Tornadoes team from the wall and handed it to Barry. “There we all are, in our glory!”
    Barry studied the photo for a moment and then put it aside. “You ever hear from Max? Or Art or Danny?”
    Julian shook his head. “Do you?”
    “Max, no. I see Art and Danny sometimes. But now that they’re in high school, well, you know…” He shrugged. “I sure hope you’re
     better at staying in touch than they are.”
    Julian smiled. “You’ll be hearing from me so often, it’ll be like I’m still here!”
    Barry gave a little laugh. “If only!”
    They were silent for a moment. Then Barry removed his backpack and opened it. “Got something for you,” he said. He pulled
     out a wrapped box and handed it to Julian.
    “What is it?” Julian asked.
    “Uh, duh, you’re supposed to open it and find out!”
    Julian tore off the paper and threw it at Barry. Then he looked at the box.
Cutler’s
was stamped in huge chocolate brown letters across the top. A huge grin split Julian’s face. “You didn’t!”
    Barry waggled his eyebrows. “Mick, Grady, and I pooled our money to get them for you.”
    Julian lifted the box’s lid. Inside were at least a hundred Triple Chocolate Peanut Butter Drops!
    “Awesome!”
    He reached in to take one. Barry slapped his hand away.
    “Don’t eat them now!”
    “Why not?”
    “You’re supposed to save them until you get to your new house. Then, every time you eat some, you’ll think of us. And when
     you do, you’ll pick up the phone and call. Or grab your cell and text. Or turn on your computer and e-mail. Or pick up a pen
     and write!”
    “Or send a carrier pigeon with a message tied to its leg! Or build a fire and make smoke signals!” Julian said, laughing.
    “Morse code! Pony express! Semaphore flags! The options are endless!” Barry cried.
    “Okay, I get it!” Julian said. “I’ll stay in touch, I promise! But you have to stay in touch with me too!”
    Barry flopped back on the bed and waved his hand dismissively. “Me? No way, man. I’ll be too busy.”
    Barry and his mother stayed for the rest of the afternoon and helped the Pryces pack. They stayed for pizza, too, and then
     said their final good-byes.
    The house seemed much emptier after they left. Julian went to his room, laid on his bed, and stared at his empty walls.
    “It’s really happening,” he murmured. “We’re leaving tomorrow. And we’re not coming back.”

7
    F our days later, Julian walked down a long hallway behind his new school’s principal. Mrs. Oliver’s high heels rang out loudly
     against the tile. One of Julian’s sneakers squeaked with every other step. Together,