500
The edge of the water rippled from a sudden movement somewhere below the surface. I turned my head and strained to see in the deep, muddy water, but the blackness concealed the culprit. I didn’t dare move closer.
We were on a field trip to an alligator park, and we had spent the last week learning all about these fearsome creatures—their crushing jaws and 13-feet long, 800-pound bodies.
Mrs. Norris had warned me earlier, “Do not wander off on your own, Paul. Everyone must stay with his or her partner."
I had just rolled my eyes at her.
Just when I could use a partner, I thought.
Suddenly, a set of small, beady eyes appeared out of the water and focused right on me. My heart pounded in my chest and beads of sweat formed along my forehead.
"What should I do?" I thought to myself as my knees quaked beneath me.
My brain was like scrambled eggs. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t concentrate!
Then, a slow, low noise came out of the water . . . ribbit!
Which sentence best shows how Paul feels when he sees eyes in the water?
a. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t think straight!
b. My heart pounded in my chest and beads of sweat formed along my forehead.
c. I didn’t dare move closer.
d. "What should I do?" I thought to myself.
What is b. My heart pounded in my chest and beads of sweat formed along my forehead?