Ghouls Gone Wild Read Online Free PDF Page B

pounding from Colin's room. He probably had track team practice at school.
    “If you're here,” I called to the ghosts, “no tricks. I'm warning you. I don't want to get in trouble again.”
    I straightened my desk. Made a neat pile of my
Star Trek
and
Lord of the Rings
magazines on my bookshelf. Hid some magic equipment in the closet. Shoved a pile of dirty clothes under the bed.
    There. The room looked pretty good.
    I sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. I liked my room. I didn't want to leave it. And I'd finally made a new friend, a guy who also was into magic.
    But I knew my life had to be better in Texas— no ghosts constantly embarrassing me, no creepy wolf boys floating after me, terrifying me.
    I heard the doorbell ring downstairs. “No funny business!” Mom shouted up. “Promise?”
    She didn't wait for my answer. She pulled openthe front door, and I heard her greeting Mrs. Flake and the Marvins.
    Soon they were inspecting the house again. I sat on the edge of my bed, waiting for them.
    When they reached my room, they all stopped in my doorway and peeked around. “No more milk bottles?” Mrs. Marvin asked.
    I shook my head. “No. Sorry about that,” I said. “I put all my magic stuff away.”
    “Magic is a nice hobby,” Mrs. Flake said, stepping into the room. “How did you get into it, Matt?”
    “My name is Max,” I said. “I don't know. I just liked it.”
    The Marvins stayed in the doorway. I think they were afraid to enter my room. “The room is a little small,” Mr. Marvin said. “Maybe we could tear that wall down and combine the two bedrooms.”
    They moved to Colin's bedroom. They spent a lot of time looking at the rest of the house. They kept talking about moving doors and tearing things down.
    When they were finished, I followed them to the kitchen. They all sat with my mom around our kitchen table. “Max, bring over the lemon meringue pie so I can slice it,” Mom said.
    “You shouldn't have baked a pie,” Mrs. Marvin said. “That was so nice of you.”
    “Lemon meringue pie is my favorite,” Mr. Marvin said.
    I picked up the pie in both hands and started to carry it to the table.
    “Whoa—!”
    I let out a startled cry as the pie flew out of my hands. I made a wild grab for it. But it floated out of my reach—and across the room.
    It picked up speed as it shot toward the kitchen table.
    I gasped as the pie rose up high, turned upside down—and plopped down hard on Mr. Marvin's head.
    It made a sick
sploosh
sound. No one moved for a moment. Gobs of meringue and yellow custard goop oozed down Mr. Marvin's face.
    He jumped to his feet, sputtering. He wiped lemon custard from his eyes.
    “You—you brat!” Mrs. Flake shouted at me. “You
threw
that pie!”
    “No!” I protested. I waved my hands. “No way. I didn't—”
    But no one was listening to me. The Marvins were on their feet now. Mom handed Mr. Marvin a dish towel, and he wiped big, gooey clumps of pie off his head.
    “It was an accident!” Mom cried. She turned to me. “Right, Max?”
    “Yeah. An accident,” I said. “I tripped and—”
    The Marvins stomped out of the kitchen. Mrs. Flake led the way to the front door. Everyone was talking at once.
    Mrs. Flake said, “That boy should be locked up.”
    “He's crazy!” Mrs. Marvin agreed.
    “Lemon meringue pie is
not
my favorite anymore,” Mr. Marvin said.
    The door slammed behind them.
    Mom stood in the kitchen doorway, hands on her waist. She had her eyes shut tight, and she was tapping one foot on the floor. That's what she does when she's too angry to speak.
    “I guess I'll be grounded in my room for the rest of my life,” I said.
    “You got that right,” she said through clenched teeth.
    I trudged up to my room. “Nicky? Tara? Where are you?” I demanded. “Why did you do that? Why did you get me into so much trouble?”
    To my surprise, they appeared in front of my bed.
    Tara blinked several times. “We're back,” she said, tugging