The classroom door banged open with a loud thud, shaking the shiny yellow wall cubbies. Morning sunlight streamed across the bright rainbow rug. Footsteps and voices rushed into the room.
The puffball monster scrambled away from the noise. He squeezed himself tightly into the smallest cubby he could find. He pulled his fuzzy purple backpack in front of him like a shield.
He gripped his brand-new box of crayons against his chest and held his breath. Across the classroom, a loud sniffle echoed over the chatter. He peeked around the edge of his bag.
A young green monster sat on the rug, rubbing his eyes. Next to him lay a snapped red crayon, ruined before art time even began. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and let out a long wail.
The classmate tried wrapping pieces of sticky clear tape around the wax. The tape tangled around his claws instead. The waxy red dust crumbled onto the rug.
He looked down at his perfect, untouched colors. Slowly, he slid out of the cubby. His soft feet padded quietly across the linoleum floor, leaving the noisy doorway behind.
He stopped right at the edge of the rainbow rug. He held out a single, perfectly sharp orange crayon toward his classmate. "You can use this," he whispered.
The green monster gasped and snatched the orange crayon. He pressed it down hard on a sheet of bright blue paper. SNAP! The new crayon broke right in half.
He froze entirely. He stared at the two orange pieces resting on the paper. For a second, the busy classroom felt completely silent.
The green monster looked up with wide, wet eyes. Very carefully, he used one claw to slide a broken piece of the crayon back across the paper.
He picked up the broken piece. It still worked perfectly. He pressed it to the paper and drew a big, scribbly orange sun right next to his classmate's orange rocket ship.
They traded little pieces of green, purple, and pink wax back and forth. Soon, the whole paper was covered in colorful drawings. He scooted closer on the bright rug, giggling loudly as the recess bell rang outside.
