In his room, Kona rummaged in the bottom of his closet and pulled out a wadded pair of boxers and worn soccer shorts, the same clothes he’d worn each night and hidden in his closet for over a month. Putting on the rank and musty clothes, he immediately felt better. It was going to be all right.
He carefully closed his closet and bedroom doors, making sure they were shut tight. Eye-balling the distance to his pillow, he set the mango cobbler on his desk chair, turned off the light, and took a flying leap into bed.
As he pulled the covers up to his chin and tucked them under his shoulders and behind his neck, he smelled his hands, clean and fresh, like flowers after rain.
Dang. Better hide ‘em in my pits.
His tummy rumbled ominously.
Looking good, he thought.
Excerpted from Sniff by Lehua Parker. Copyright © 2013 by Lehua Parker. Excerpted by permission of Lehua Parker, LLC and Lauele Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher or author.