"Hello?" someone asked on the phone.
"Who is this?" Jon asked.
"Ian Gibson. Who's this?"
"Jon ... uh ... Reynolds."
"Mr. Reynolds? Why ... why are you calling me? Am I in trouble?" It was so weird hearing Mr. Reynolds talk with a teenager's voice.
"Listen. I need to know. Do you have the wishing stone?"
"How do you know about that?" he asked. He sounded a little worried.
"It doesn't matter. I need to use it to ..."
"Sorry, Mr. Reynolds. I don't know how you found out about the stone, but I'm not letting just anyone use it. Even if you're one of my teachers."
"Wait ..."
"I hope you won't flunk me for this, but I can't let you use it. Bye," he hurriedly said, then hung up.
Maybe I will flunk him for it, Jon thought. He'd have to go get the stone himself.
