My Teacher Is an Alien Read Free Page A

should have burned out his eyeballs.
    "Unnnyh," I moaned, trying to sound pitiful.
    Mr. Smith looked down at me. "Is something wrong, Miss Simmons?" he asked.
    "I don't feel good," I said. "I want to see the nurse."
    Mr. Smith hesitated, then looked at his watch. "It's time to go in now, anyway," he said. "Line up with the rest of us. You can see Mrs. Glacka after we get in."
    Now what? If I claimed I was about to throw up, he'd probably let me go inside right away. But if he was bringing everyone else in anyway, I wouldn't have the time I needed to go through the papers and find the note.
    "All right," I moaned, trying to sound pitiful. I hoped it would make him feel guilty. I almost wished I was going to throw up. I'd make sure to hit his shoes!
    Of course, once we were inside, I had to go to the nurse's office—even though I actually felt perfectly fine. Mrs. Glacka told me to lie down. I wasn't surprised. That was her basic cure for everything. So I lay there, staring at the ceiling and worrying about that note.
    Finally I decided to follow Mr. Smith home. Maybe I could find some way to get the note back before it was too late. I didn't have any big plan, mind you. I was just desperate.
    I wasn't sure where Mr. Smith lived. But I figured it couldn't be too far, since he always walked to school. So after the last bell I hung around on the playground, waiting for Mr. Smith to come out of the building.
    I was concentrating so hard I almost jumped out of my skin when Peter Thompson came up behind me and said, "Hey, Susan, what are you doing?"
    "None of your business!" I hissed. "Leave me alone!"
    Peter's skinny face kind of crumpled, and he looked like he was going to cry.
    "Look," I said. "This is private, OK?"
    "Sure," said Peter. "I won't bother you." He tucked his book under his arm and walked away, trying to whistle. It was a pretty pathetic sound. I thought about Peter and realized with a shock that I was probably the closest thing he had to a friend.
    That made me kind of sad. Not that there's anything wrong with having me for a friend. But I've got a lot of friends, and I didn't really think of Peter as being one of them. I liked him all right. He just wasn't someone I spent much time with.
    I wondered if there was anyone who did spend time with him.
    My thoughts were interrupted when I saw Mr. Smith come out of the building. I waited for a minute or two, then began sneaking along behind him. I tried to stay a half a block or so away. Whenever I could, I ducked behind a tree or a bush so he wouldn't spot me. I probably looked pretty weird. But that's one nice thing about being a kid: you can get away with this kind of stuff.
    Mr. Smith's home was farther away than I had expected. He lived at the edge of town, in an old white house with black shutters. The house was set way back from the street. A thick hedge completely surrounded the lot on which it stood.
    I stood outside the hedge feeling stupid. What had I hoped to accomplish by following Mr. Smith?
    But I was in luck. As I watched from a hole in the hedge, I saw Mr. Smith set his briefcase down on the porch and go inside. Since it was a warm afternoon, I figured he planned to get something to drink, then come back outside to sit on the porch and correct our papers.
    This was my chance! I scooted through a hole in the hedge and onto the porch. I was working up
     
    the nerve to open the briefcase when I heard an unearthly howl. It sounded like someone was trying to put a cat in a blender.
    Hot as it was, I felt my blood turn to ice. What was going on in there? Had someone attacked Mr. Smith? I wasn't crazy about the man, but I didn't want him to be tortured or anything, which is what this sounded like.
    Should I run for help, or go inside?
    But what kind of help could I get? All I could say was that I had heard a terrible noise. Nobody was yelling for help, or anything like that.
    I didn't think I could get anyone to come.
    Then it occurred to me that maybe Mr.