Scare School Read Free

Black.”
    “Your backpack—” I repeated.
    She turned and waved to two girls down the hall. “Did you bring your lunch?” she shouted to them.
    I couldn’t hear their answer. The noise in the hall was too loud.
    “Tell me what happened,” I insisted. “What happened to your backpack?”
    She shrugged. “It’s your first day. You really shouldn’t ask me about it.”
    “But I really want to know!” I shouted. “Why did you scream like that? Why did you look so frightened?”
    “Please,” Tonya begged, backing away from me. She glanced tensely up and down the hall.
    “Please—I can’t tell you,” she said. “Just drop it—okay? Drop it—before you get us both in trouble!”
    “Give me a break,” I said. “I don’t get scared too easily. Tell me—”
    But she darted into the lunchroom.
    I’m not the kind of guy who just gives up. I followed her into the lunch line. “Tell me,” I said. “Did it have something to do with that green creature I saw in the hall?”
    Her mouth dropped open. “You—you saw it?”
    I nodded.
    “Oh, wow,” she muttered, shaking her head.
    “Answer my question,” I insisted. “What happened to your backpack?”
    Before Tonya could say a word, I heard the thud of footsteps. Then I felt a hard bump, a slap on my back from behind.
    The creature had returned!

5
    No.
    Not the creature.
    With a gasp, I turned—and saw that kid with the spiky brown hair—Simpson.
    “How’s it going?”
    He grinned at me. He had kind of a dopey grin. His two front teeth were crooked.
    He had brown eyes and a short, snubby nose. I spotted a tiny silver ring through one earlobe. He wore a black sweatshirt over faded jeans, torn at both knees.
    “Whoa. They’ve got fried chicken today! Excellent!” he exclaimed as the line moved forward. “The fried chicken and the pizza are the only goodfoods. Everything else in this place is garbage.”
    “We didn’t have fried chicken at my old school,”
    I said. “Everything we had was garbage.”
    I turned back to Tonya. But she was already carrying her tray to a table filled with girls.
    “Hey, how come you changed schools in November?” Simpson asked.
    I scooped a big pile of mashed potatoes onto my plate. Then I reached for a piece of chicken.
    I snickered. “Well, actually, I got kicked out of my other school.”
    He stared at me. “Really?”
    “Yeah. Really,” I said.
    “It wasn’t my fault,” I added quickly. “Some other kids started a big fight in the gym. And I’m the one who got blamed.”
    I paid for my lunch and followed Simpson to a table. I sat down across from him and gazed over his shoulder at Tonya’s table across the lunchroom.
    She was talking rapidly to the girls at the table, gesturing with her hands. I wondered if she was telling them about what happened to her backpack.
    Simpson lifted a chicken leg to his face and bit into it. “Not too many fights at Broadmoor,” he said, chewing with those big front teeth. “It’s a pretty quiet school.”
    And then he added, “Unless you look for trouble.”
    What does he mean by that? I wondered.
    I shook salt onto my potatoes. “What kind of guy is Mr. Kimpall?” I asked. “Is he strict or what? He is such a little shrimp!” I laughed.
    Simpson didn’t laugh. “He’s okay, I guess,” he said. “He’s not too strict. But he’s always popping surprise quizzes on us.”
    “I hate that,” I said.
    Simpson jumped up. “I forgot to get a drink.” He hurried back to the front counter.
    I dug my fork into the mashed potatoes on my plate. Suddenly, I felt really hungry.
    I had been too nervous to eat breakfast in the morning. But now my stomach was growling and complaining.
    I shoveled potatoes into my mouth. They tasted buttery and salty on my tongue. Really good.
    I shoveled in another big heap of potatoes.
    I started to swallow. But stopped when I felt something move.
    Something prickled the side of my mouth. Something scratched my tongue.
    Something is