The schoolhouse waited at the end of the path. Colorful windows sparkled in the morning light.
Pip clung to his mom's leg. He shook his head. He didn't want to go inside.
"Come on, sweetpea," she whispered. "It's just one day." But Pip's feet stayed planted in the dirt.
Through the window, the other children ran and laughed and played tag. Pip turned away and sat on the bench.
The recess bell rang. The playground filled with cheering children. Pip sat at the edge, kicking his tiny feet in the dirt.
A ball bounced toward him and stopped at his feet. A little hedgehog stood there, holding out his hand.
Pip stared at the outstretched hand. The hedgehog tilted his head. Pip took a deep breath and reached out.
His prickly fingers brushed the other hedgehog's paw. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
They rolled the ball back and forth. Their laughter mixed with the playground noise. Pip didn't look at the door anymore.
The ball bounced. Roll, roll, roll. Pip giggled. He was here. He was playing.
