Eighth Grade Bites by Heather Brewer Read Free Book Online

broke the silence. “A homeless guy?”
    Stephanie Brawn shot her hand up. Her tone was matter-of-fact. “A mortician.”
    â€œA zombie?” Carl squeaked. Carl was one of the quieter students. Lanky, shy. It always surprised Vlad to hear his voice.
    Mr. Otis pointed a long finger at Carl. His eyes twinkled. “Yes. As you seemed to enjoy my unicorn costume last week and my troll costume the week before, I thought I’d choose something a bit less obvious this time. I wore this as inspiration for the project we’ll be undertaking this week.”
    Mr. Otis turned to his bag, where he retrieved a hefty stack of papers and began passing them to each student. Once the papers were handed out, he returned to his perch on the corner of the desk, a proud smile on his face. He searched their eyes, obviously expecting wonderment and curiosity, but his smile slipped when he found only disappointment. Even Vlad, who’d come to enjoy having Mr. Otis as a teacher over the past few weeks and found the study of such things fascinating, slumped down in his seat. New projects always started out sounding cool, but before you knew it, the teacher had glitter and construction paper strewn about the room and you were getting fitted for some stupid costume. Vlad decided that teachers’ ideas were a lot like bunches of garlic—intriguing from afar, but up close sadly sickening and, if you weren’t careful, deadly. Still, he felt sorry for Mr. Otis, who, like so many substitutes, was trying to make an impression.
    Vlad raised his hand and asked, “Will this be an oral report or written?”
    â€œI’m glad you asked.” Mr. Otis glanced down at the papers on his desk and back at the class. “Since I first began teaching you, we’ve been learning the folklore and history of a different mythological creature every week. This week we will embark on the study of supernatural beings, and at the end of our studies, you will each be turning in a thousand-word essay on one of those supernatural creatures, as well as giving an oral presentation near the end of February.”
    Mr. Otis turned to the blackboard with a spring in his step and scribbled down a list of slightly crooked words. He turned back to the class and nodded at the intrigued looks he saw on their faces. Reaching into his bag, he retrieved a handful of small, folded papers. Mr. Otis stuffed them into his hat and said, “These will be no ordinary reports. I want you to write them as if you were the creature you draw from my hat. Tell me how you feel, what your strengths are, your weaknesses, any special abilities you may have. Tap into what makes you a witch, a werewolf, a vampire, and so on. Show me the true nature of yourself.”
    Vlad sank farther into his seat. Hiding his true nature was a daily chore and certainly not something he wanted to expose in front of the class. People would panic. Meredith would cringe. And he could only imagine how closely Principal Snelgrove would watch him after learning his secret. As Mr. Otis began his slow trip around the room, stopping at each desk and holding out the hat, Vlad crossed his fingers under the desk and hoped that the mathematical odds would be with him and he’d draw zombie or warlock —anything but his true nature.
    In front of him, Chelsea Whitaker was pouting over her pick. She lifted her furrowed brow to Mr. Otis, who merely smiled and held the hat out to Vlad. Vlad reached in and pulled out a slip of paper.
    Vlad cupped it in his hand, willing it to read anything but vampire . He took a deep breath, held it until his lungs burned, and opened his hand.
    The paper was blank. Vlad blinked, and when he looked up at Mr. Otis, he noticed that his teacher was watching the slip of paper with decided interest. Feeling more than a little curious and only slightly stupid, Vlad flipped the paper over and read his assigned creature.
    Werewolf.
    A sigh escaped Vlad before