My Best Friend Is Invisible Read Free Page B

couldn’t see!

 
 
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    I yanked my hand back. I jerked free of the clammy, invisible grip.
    Then I dropped the chalk—and started screaming.
    And ran from the room.
    I ran into the hall. I leaned against the wall outside the classroom. My
hands were shaking. My knees trembled.
    I could still feel the cold, ghostly fingers wrapped around my hand.
    I heard Roxanne inside—volunteering to finish the equation.
    “Sammy.” Ms. Starkling met me out in the hall. “What happened? Are you sick?
Would you like to see the school nurse?”
    “I’m—I’m not sick,” I stammered.
    I didn’t want to explain what happened.
    I couldn’t explain it. I didn’t even want to try.
    “Are you sure you don’t want to see the nurse? You don’t look well.” Ms. Starkling felt my forehead.
    “No. I’m okay,” I lied. “I—I just felt a little dizzy—because I didn’t
eat breakfast this morning.”
    Ms. Starkling believed me. She sent me to the lunchroom to get something to
eat.
    As I made my way down the hall, I could still feel the clammy hand gripping
my fingers.
    Still feel the hot breath on my face.
    Still feel the cold force as it pushed my hand along the board. Guiding it.
Writing the numbers for me.
    I shivered.
    Maybe Dad is right. Maybe I have been reading too many ghost
stories.
     
    I walked home alone after school. I wanted to be by myself. To think.
    I heard footsteps behind me. Footsteps pounding the pavement. Running toward
me.
    “Sammy—wait up!” It was Roxanne.
    I pretended I didn’t hear her. I kept walking.
    “Sammy!” Roxanne caught up—out of breath. “What happened to you today?”
    “Nothing happened.”
    “Something happened,” she insisted. “Something happened to you in math
class.”
    “I don’t want to talk about it,” I told her.
    “I’m really good at math,” Roxanne said smugly. “I’d be happy to help you—if you don’t understand it.”
    “I… don’t… need… help,” I replied through gritted teeth. I began to
walk faster—but Roxanne kept up with me.
    We didn’t talk.
    Finally, Roxanne broke the silence. “Let’s go to the haunted house Saturday
night. For our project. Okay?”
    “Maybe. I have to get home now. I’ll call you later to talk about it.”
    I broke into a run—and left Roxanne on the sidewalk, staring after me.
    I wanted to get home.
    I wanted to think about everything that had happened.
    I wanted to think about it—by myself.
    As I headed into the house, I wondered about my bedroom window. Would it be
open? I made sure it was closed before I left this morning. But that didn’t mean
anything.
    I started up the stairs. But I stopped when I heard Brutus meowing loudly in
the kitchen. He always does that when he wants to go out.
    “Okay. Okay. I’m coming.”
    Brutus started to wail.
    “Hold it down, Brutus. I said I was—”
    I stopped in the kitchen door.
    There was Brutus—crouched on a chair. His fur stood straight up. He pulled
back his lips in a menacing hiss.
    I followed his gaze—and let out a shriek.
    A pizza sat on the table.
    A slice from the pie floated above the plate—floated up by itself.
    I stared in shock as it rose higher and higher.
    “Who—who’s there?” I stammered. “I know someone is there! Who ARE you?”

 
 
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    “Who are you?” I demanded again.
    No answer.
    I stared at the pizza slice. Stared as it floated in midair.
    I watched as it was chewed up. Bite by bite.
    “Tell me who you are!” I shouted. “You’re really scaring me!”
    Another bite disappeared from the floating slice of pizza. And another.
    “This isn’t happening. It can’t be,” I whispered.
    I’ll close my eyes. When I open them—I’ll see that I imagined the whole
thing, I told myself.
    And I’ll never read a ghost book again, I promised.
    Or watch a sci-fi movie.
    Another bite of the pizza disappeared.
    I closed my eyes.
    I opened them.
    The slice of pizza was gone.
    I let out a long sigh of