Liar Liar Read Online Free PDF

surprise from the kitchen.
    Mom must have heard me thumping and bumping down the stairs.
    Why didn’t she come running to see who had fallen?
    Silence in the kitchen now.
    I picked myself up and straightened my pajamas. One knee throbbed with pain. I rubbed it carefully as I limped toward the kitchen.
    â€œWho’s down here?” I called. “Mom? Is that you?”
    No reply.
    The kitchen was dark. No lights on. Silvery moonlight poured in from the windows. No color in the room, only shades of gray.
    I suddenly felt as if I were in a black-and-white movie.
    â€œMom? I heard you talking!” I called.
    I made my way across the kitchen, running my hand along the counter. “Anyone in here?”
    No.
    I peered out at the backyard. Under the bright moonlight, the swimming pool shimmered, and the grass glowed like silver.
    Unreal.
    I turned away—and the kitchen lights flashed on. Blinking from the shock of the light, I saw Mom in the doorway.
    â€œRoss? What are you doing down here?” she asked, holding a hand over her mouth and yawning loudly.
    â€œI—I heard you talking,” I said.
    She tightened the belt of her robe. “Me? It wasn’t me. I was asleep.”
    â€œNo,” I said. “I heard voices. You were here in the kitchen, talking to a boy.”
    Mom rubbed her eyes with both hands. “No. Really, Ross. Why are you down here?”
    â€œI told you,” I said, clenching my fists. I banged one fist on the Formica counter. “Why don’t you believe me?”
    â€œBecause I wasn’t in here talking to anyone,” Mom said. “I was in my bed, sound asleep. Until I heard you wandering around.”
    She yawned. “You must have been having a nightmare. Sometimes nightmares can seem very real.”
    â€œI didn’t dream it,” I insisted. “I know the difference between a nightmare and what’s really happening.”
    I could see she wasn’t going to believe me. So I shrugged and followed her out of the kitchen, clicking off the lights as I left.
    I didn’t get back to sleep that night.
    I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Listening for the voices downstairs. Waiting … listening for Mom and the boy with my voice.
    I didn’t know I would see the boy in a few hours.
    I didn’t know how dangerous he was.
    I didn’t know the terrifying trouble I was in.

Cindy stopped me after school Monday afternoon. I was kneeling down in front of my hall locker, lacing my new tennis sneakers. She stepped in front of me and stomped down hard on one of them.
    â€œHey!” I snapped angrily. “Why’d you do that?”
    She shrugged. “Just felt like it.”
    I tied the laces quickly, then spit on my fingers and tried to rub off the scuff mark she’d made. “If you’re still angry at me about Max’s party …”
    â€œI’ve decided to be nice to you again,” she said.
    â€œNice? By stomping on my foot?”
    She laughed. “That was just to be funny.” She raked her fingers through her straight black bangs. “Why did you leave the party so early Friday night? Afraid Sharma and I would toss you in the pool again?”
    â€œYou almost drowned me!” I grumbled.
    â€œYou deserved it,” Cindy replied. “So why did you leave in such a hurry, Ross?”
    â€œOh, I was worried about my little brother,” I said. “I don’t like to leave him alone for long.”
    Cindy stared hard at me. “Is that the truth?”
    I slammed my locker shut. “Of course,” I said.
    Cindy shifted her backpack on her shoulders. “Maybe you could come over to my house now. We could study for the government test together.”
    I waved to some guys down the hall. “I can’t,” I told Cindy. “I have tennis team practice.”
    I glanced at the clock above the principal’s office. “I’m already late.”
    Cindy