28 - The Cuckoo Clock of Doom Read Free Page B

through the kitchen door and into
the dining room.
    I didn’t see Tara pressed against the wall. I didn’t see her stick her bratty
little foot in the doorway.
    I tripped. The cake flew out of my hands.
    I landed on top of the cake. Facedown. Of course.
    Some kids gasped. Some tried to muffle their laughter.
    I sat up and wiped the brown frosting from my eyes.
    The first face I saw was Mona’s. She was shaking with laughter.
    Mom leaned over and scolded me. “What a mess! Michael, why don’t you look where you’re going?”
    I listened to the laughter and stared at my ruined cake. I had no candles to
blow out now. But it didn’t matter. I decided to make a wish, anyway.
    I wish I could start this birthday all over again.
    I stood up, covered in gooey brown cake. My friends howled.
    “You look like the Hulk!” Rosie cried.
    Everybody laughed harder than ever.
    They all had a great time at my party. Everyone did.
    Except for me.
    My birthday was bad—very bad. But ruining it wasn’t the worst thing Tara
did to me.
    Nobody would believe the worst thing.

 
 
4
     
     
    It happened the week before my birthday. Mona, Ceecee, and Rosie were coming
over. We all had parts in the school play, and planned to rehearse together at
my house.
    The play was a new version of The Frog Prince. Mona played the
princess, and Ceecee and Rosie were her two silly sisters. Perfect casting, I
thought.
    I played the frog, before the princess kisses him and turns him into a
prince. For some reason, our drama teacher didn’t want me to play the prince.
Josh got that part.
    Anyway, I decided that the frog is a better part. Because Mona, the princess,
kisses the frog, not the prince.
    The girls would arrive any minute.
    Tara sat on the rug in the den, torturing our cat, Bubba. Bubba hated Tara
almost as much as I did.
    Tara lifted Bubba by the hind legs, trying to make him do a handstand. Bubba
yowled and squirmed and wriggled away. But Tara caught him and made him do a
handstand again.
    “Stop that, Tara,” I ordered.
    “Why?” Tara said. “It’s fun.”
    “You’re hurting Bubba.”
    “No, I’m not. He likes it. See? He’s smiling.” She let go of his hind legs
and grabbed him with one hand under his front legs. With the other hand she
lifted the corners of his mouth and stretched them into a pained smile.
    Bubba tried to bite her. He missed.
    “Tara,” I said, “let him go. And get out of here. My friends are coming
over.”
    “No.” Now Tara tried to make Bubba walk on his front paws. He fell and bumped
his nose.
    “Tara, stop it!” I cried. As I tried to take Bubba away from her, she let the
cat go. Bubba meowed and scratched me across the arm.
    “Ow!” I dropped Bubba. He ran away.
    “Michael, what were you doing to that cat?” Mom stood in the doorway. Bubba
slipped past her into the hall.
    “Nothing! He scratched me!”
    “Stop teasing him, and he won’t scratch you,” Mom scolded. She left, calling
over her shoulder, “I’m going upstairs to lie down for a while. I have a
headache.”
    The doorbell rang. “We’ll get it, Mom!” I called.
    I knew it must be the girls at the door. I wanted to surprise them in my frog
costume, but I wasn’t ready yet.
    “Answer the door, Tara,” I told the brat. “Tell Mona and the others to wait
for me in the den. I’ll be right back.”
    “Okay,” Tara said. She trotted off to the front door. I hurried upstairs to
change into my costume.
    I pulled the costume out of my closet. I took off my pants and shirt. I
picked up the frog suit, trying to open the zipper. It was stuck.
    I stood there in my underwear, tugging at the zipper. Then my bedroom door
clicked open.
    “Here he is, girls,” I heard Tara say. “He told me to bring you upstairs.”
    No! I thought. Please don’t let it be true!
    I was afraid to look up. I knew what I’d see.
    The door wide open. Mona, Ceecee, Rosie, and Tara, staring at me in my
underwear!
    I forced myself to look. It