Who Let the Ghosts Out? by R.L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page A

“You're
crushing
me!” she shrieked.
    I thrashed my arms wildly in the air, struggling to stand up. Finally, Traci shoved me with both hands and I dropped, sitting down, onto the sidewalk.
    The papers from her backpack were strewn all over the grass. Her hair was matted against herhead. She turned to me and laughed. “Are you on the football team?”
    “No,” I choked out.
    “You should be. That was a great tackle.”
    “Sorry.” I could feel my face turn hot. I knew I must be as red as the stoplight over the street.
    “Go ahead,” Tara said, standing over me. “Be brave. Tell her you think she's hot.”
    “No way,” I said.
    “No way
what
?” Traci asked. She stuffed her papers back into the backpack.
    “I wasn't talking to you,” I said.
    She glanced around. “Max, who were you talking to?”
    “Uh … myself.”
    Traci narrowed her eyes at me. “You're weird.”
    “Yeah, I know,” I muttered.
    “Ask her to play tennis with you after school,” Tara said.
    “It's too cold for tennis,” I said.
    Traci looked confused. “What about tennis?”
    “I don't play it,” I said.
    She tossed her backpack over her shoulder. “Then why are you talking about it? Never mind. We're going to be late.” She turned and started to jog away.
    “Traci? Would you like to help me with my magic act?” I called after her.
    She didn't hear me. She just kept running down the sidewalk.
    I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for your help,” I muttered to Nicky and Tara.
    But of course the two troublemakers had disappeared.
    I ran into Ms. McDonald's classroom just as the bell rang. I spotted Traci, already in her seat in the front row. I could feel my face growing hot again.
    She didn't see me. She was talking to one of her cool friends, Monica Wendt, who sat beside her.
    I knew Traci would never speak to me again.
    Can you imagine the horror of having a crush on a girl and then
falling on top of her
? Of course it wasn't my fault. But could I explain to Traci that a ghost named Tara had shoved me into her?
    Yeah, sure.
    I slunk to my seat in the back. I had grass stains on the knees of my cargo pants. And in my rush to get out of the house and away from the ghosts, I'd forgotten to bring my backpack with all my homework in it.
    I froze in panic. I didn't have my homework—
for the first time in my life
!
    At the chalkboard, Ms. McDonald was busywriting an endless algebra equation. Algebra is one of my best subjects. I can solve any equation forward and backward.
    Ms. McDonald turned to the class. She's a nice teacher, very young and very pretty. She has curly black hair down past her shoulders, and bright blue eyes. She always wears faded jeans and bright-colored sweaters.
    She also has a good sense of humor. Sometimes kids call her Ms. Mickey D, and she doesn't mind it at all.
    “Who can solve this equation?” she asked, her eyes shifting from face to face.
    I raised my hand.
    “I know
you
can do it, Max,” Ms. McDonald said. “Does anyone else want to try?”
    No hands went up. “Okay, Max. Come up and show us how to solve it,” Ms. McDonald said.
    I walked to the front of the room. I was careful not to look at Traci. “Go, Brainimon!” a boy yelled from the back. A few kids laughed.
    “Make it hard. Do it blindfolded,” Monica Wendt called out.
    “Brainimon can do it!” another boy shouted.
    I felt good. This was the only time in school I felt like a real winner. I took the chalk from Ms. McDonald and turned to the board. I started to factor for X, writing quickly, the chalk squeaking in my hand.
    “Hey, I know how to do this one,” I heard Nicky say. “Give me the chalk.”
    “No. Go away!” I said.
    Ms. McDonald took a few steps back. “Sorry, Max. Was I standing in your light?”
    “You're messing up. You should do the fractions first,” Nicky said. “Give me the chalk. I'll show you.” I felt him grab my hand. He tried to pull the chalk away. I struggled to hold on, and we battled for it.
    Some