Locker 13 Read Free Page B

decided. I stopped in front of my locker, feeling a chill at the back of my neck.
    I always felt a little weirded-out in front of the locker. For one thing, it wasn’t with all the other seventh-grade lockers. It was down at the end of the back hall, by itself, just past a janitor’s supply closet.
    Up and down the hall, all the other lockers had been painted over the summer. They were all a smooth, silvery gray. But no one had touched locker 13. The old, green paint was peeling and had large patches scraped off. Deep scratches crisscrossed up and down the door.
    The locker smelled damp. And sour. As if it had once been filled with rotting leaves or dead fish or something.
    That’s okay, I can deal with this, I told myself.
    I took a deep breath. New attitude, Luke. New attitude. Your luck is going to change.
    I opened my backpack and pulled out a fat, black marker. Then I closed the locker door. And right above the number 13, I wrote the word LUCKY in big, bold capital letters.
    I stepped back to admire my work: LUCKY 13.
    â€œYessss!” I felt better already.
    I shoved the black marker into my backpack and started to zip it up. And that’s when I heard the breathing.
    Soft, soft breaths. So soft, I thought I imagined them. From inside the locker?
    I crept closer and pressed my ear against the door.
    I heard a soft hiss. Then more breathing.
    The backpack slipped out of my hands and thudded to the floor. I froze.
    And heard another soft hiss inside the locker. It ended in a short cry.
    The back of my neck prickled. My breath caught in my throat.
    Without realizing it, my hand had gripped the locker handle.
    Should I open the door? Should I?

 

    My hand tightened on the handle. I forced myself to start breathing again.
    I’m imagining this, I told myself.
    There can’t be anyone breathing inside my locker.
    I lifted the handle. Pulled open the door.
    â€œHey—!” I cried out in shock. And stared down at a black cat.
    The cat gazed up at me, its eyes red in the dim hall light. The black fur stood up on its back. It pulled back its lips and hissed again.
    A black cat?
    A black cat inside my locker?
    I’m imagining this, I thought.
    I blinked hard, trying to blink the cat away.
    A black cat inside locker 13? Could there be any worse luck?
    â€œHow—how did you get in there?” I choked out.
    The cat hissed again and arched its back. It gazed up at me coldly.
    Then it leaped from the locker floor. It darted over my shoes, down the hall. Running rapidly, silently. Head down, tail straight up, it turned the first corner and disappeared.
    I stared after it, my heart pounding. I could still feel its furry body brushing against my leg. I realized I was still gripping the locker handle.
    My head spun with questions. How long had the cat been in there? How did it get inside the locked door? Why was there a black cat in my locker? Why?
    I turned and checked out the floor of the locker. Just to make sure there weren’t any other creatures hiding in there. Then, still feeling confused, I closed the door carefully, locked it, and stepped back.
    LUCKY 13.
    The black letters appeared to glow.
    â€œYeah. Lucky,” I muttered, picking up my backpack. “Real lucky. A black cat in my locker.”
    I held my lucky rabbit’s foot and kept squeezing it tightly all the way home.
    Things are going to change, I told myself. Things have got to change….
    But in the next few weeks my luck didn’t change at all.
    One day after school I was on my way to the computer lab when I ran into Hannah. “Where are you going?” she asked. “Want to come watch my basketball game?”
    â€œI can’t,” I replied. “I promised to install some new modems for Mrs. Coffey, the computer teacher.”
    â€œMr. Computer Geek strikes again!” she said. She started jogging toward the gym.
    â€œDid you get your science test back?” I called after her.
    She