I So Don't Do Spooky by Barrie Summy Read Free Book Online Page A

across the table and touch his arm. “It’ll work out, Josh.”
    The waitress arrives with our food. “Be careful. The plates are hot.”
    After she sets my meal down, I lean over the steaming food, close my eyes and inhale. The Baja Burrito. My fave burrito in the universe: refried beans + potatoes + spicy beef + guac + cheese. The smell takes meback a couple of years. To the last time I was here with my mom, dad and Sam for my brother’s birthday.
    The guitar guy hung out by our table and played a bunch of pretty bad music. Until my mom paid him to move along. I gave Sam some great gag gifts like a squirt gun calculator and a whoopee cushion. Dad tied birthday balloons to Sam’s ears right before Sam knocked over his Dr Pepper. We had a sweet time. Really sweet.
    I pick up the burrito and nibble. Then another nibble. It’s okay. But just okay. It’s not the burrito of my past.
    Maybe Tio Roberto’s changed chefs. Or recipes. Or maybe I need Sam next to me, kicking me under the table. Or my mom taking forever to eat her chimichanga. Or my dad making his same-o lame-o “cold today, hot tamale” joke.
    A lump like a Ping-Pong ball forms in my throat. I swallow past it. The burrito hasn’t changed. My life has.
    Josh takes a humongous bite. “Awesome, babe. Even better than any burrito I ate in San Diego.” That’s where Josh is originally from. And that’s saying a lot for this burrito because Josh is way keen on California Mexican food.
    I sip my water, willing my throat lump to shrivel up and disappear.
    â€œYou know anything about The Ruler’s after-school tutoring?” Josh asks.
    â€œIt’s good. I had to go.”
    â€œI’m gonna try it.” He spoons extra salsa into his burrito. “You know, to raise my math grade.” He takes another big bite. He likes to eat a lot, especially after a game.
    With my fork, I push Spanish rice around while Josh wolfs down his food.
    â€œAren’t you hungry?” Josh asks.
    â€œNot as much as you. I didn’t just play an amazing water polo game.” I scoot my plate toward him. “Plus, I’m saving room for fried ice cream.”
    â€œThanks, Sherry.” Josh spears a chunk of avocado. “Guess what? I’m gonna be making some money. My dad’s worker quit. I’m gonna get to dig trenches for the sprinkler system at this new apartment complex.” Josh pops the avocado into his mouth. “I’ll take you on another date.”
    How romantic. He wants to spend his first paycheck on me. But next time I’m suggesting an unsad place like KFC. “How will you fit in tutoring and water polo and digging?” And me?
    He picks up my burrito. “It’ll be busy. Like tomorrow I have polo practice, English project with Candy and one section of the apartment’s front lawn to dig.”
    Yikes. Josh is going to be crazy busy, and I’ll be tied up with the stalker mystery—hanging with The Ruler, meeting with my mom and Junie, going to Donner robotics meetings, investigating clues. Eek. Candy’ll see more of Josh than I will.
    The waitress brings our fried ice cream. Josh digs in. One look at my family’s fave dessert, and it’s like two Ping-Pong balls are lodged in my throat. It’s a miracle I can even breathe and haven’t keeled over in a dead faint on Tio Roberto’s could-be-cleaner floor.
    After the waitress drops off the bill, Josh picks it up and stares at the numbers, a cute pencil-thin wrinkle across his adorable forehead. Finally, he un-Velcroes his wallet, pulls out a couple of dollars for the tip and flattens them next to his plate.
    At the front of the restaurant, Josh pays the bill. I snag a few cinnamon candies from a ceramic bowl by the cash register. For Sam.
    It’s dusk outside. His mom’s not here yet, so we plop down on the curb.
    â€œThanks for dinner,” I say, knocking my knee