Nobu pushed open the classroom door. Bright colors and loud voices rushed out. His fingers twisted his backpack strap, twist, twist, twist.
Nobu took one step forward, then stopped. The circle had an open space. A crayon rolled under a table — tick, tick, tick.
Nobu sat on the edge of a blue chair and pulled at his pants seam. His friends passed a picture book around — whoosh, flip, whoosh. He thought about the tiny snail he found on the sidewalk.
Nobu lifted his hand just a little. The storyteller noticed and held up a finger — wait — then knelt down and whispered, 'Tell us.' Nobu said, 'I found a snail.'
For a second, nobody moved. Then a girl gasped and said, 'Did it have stripes?' Two boys leaned in so close their shoulders touched Nobu's.
His friends pulled him into the circle and everyone sat in a big ring. The snail story grew and grew — stripes, a spiral house, a race down the sidewalk.
Nobu's legs stopped fidgeting. He reached for the picture book and opened it. The room filled with voices and laughter.
The teacher smiled from the doorway. The snail story kept going, page after page, until the bell rang.
Nobu turned the page. His snail had stripes, and a house like a spiral, and it raced down the sidewalk faster than anyone thought possible.
When the bell rang, nobody wanted to leave. Nobu stayed in the circle a little longer, clutching the picture book, already planning his next story.