Locker 13 Read Online Free PDF Page B

been reading the morning announcements. I hadn’t heard a word he said. I pulled the four-leaf clover from my backpack, twirled it in my hand, and wished for good luck for the rest of the day.
    At noon I found Hannah at a table against the back wall of the lunchroom. She was sitting all by herself, staring down at her brown lunchbag, which she hadn’t opened.
    â€œHi. Whassup?” I dropped across from her.
    â€œHi,” she said softly, without raising her eyes. “How’s it going?”
    â€œWell, pretty okay for a Friday the thirteenth,” I said. Actually, the morning had flown by without any problems at all.
    I expected Hannah to make some kind of joke about how superstitious I am. But she didn’t say a word.
    I pulled the sandwich from my bag and started to unwrap the foil. “My lucky sandwich,” I said. “Peanut butter and mayonnaise.”
    â€œYum,” she said, rolling her eyes. She finally looked at me. She appeared tired. Her eyes were bloodshot, red, as if she’d been crying. Her hair was a mess, and her face was gray.
    â€œHow come you’re wearing your coat?” she asked.
    â€œOh … uh … no reason,” I said. “I was kind of cold.”
    She nodded glumly.
    â€œDid you come to school in the new SUV?” I asked.
    She shook her head. “We don’t have it yet. Dad has to go fill out a lot of papers.” She let out a long sigh.
    I lowered my sandwich. “Are you feeling okay?” I asked.
    She didn’t answer. Instead, she sighed again and stared down at the table.
    I poked her lunchbag with one finger. “What do you have for lunch?”
    She shrugged. “Just some fruit. I’m not very hungry.” She opened the bag, reached a hand in, and pulled out a bright yellow banana.
    She struggled with the skin. Then finally peeled it open.
    â€œOh, yuck!” Her face twisted in disgust. She dropped the banana to the table.
    Inside the skin, the banana was completely rotten. Just a soft pile of black mush. A horrible, sour smell—like ripe vomit—floated up from it.
    Hannah shoved the banana away. “Sick. That’s really sick.”
    â€œThe skin is perfectly fresh,” I said. “How could the banana be so rotten?”
    â€œI think I have an apple,” Hannah said glumly. She tore the bag apart and pulled out a red apple. She twirled it between her hands—then stopped with a gasp.
    I saw the deep, dark hole on the side of the apple. And as we both stared at it, a fat, brown worm—at least two inches long—curled out from inside. And then another. And another.
    The worms dropped from the apple, onto the tabletop.
    â€œI don’t believe this!” Hannah shrieked. She scraped her chair back so hard, it toppled over.
    And before I could say anything, she was running from the room.
    After school I looked for Hannah on my way to basketball practice. I was worried about her. She had acted so weird at lunch. Not like herself at all.
    I reminded myself that it was Friday the thirteenth. And sometimes people act a little weird on this day.
    But not Hannah. Hannah is the least superstitious person I know. She walks under ladders all the time, and she hugs black cats, and doesn’t think a thing of it.
    And why should she? Hannah has to be the luckiest person on earth!
    Lockers slammed as kids prepared to go home. I started to the gym, then turned back. I don’t want to carry my coat and backpack to the gym, I decided. I’m going to stuff them in my locker.
    I hesitated as the locker came into view at the end of the hall. I read the words on the door: LUCKY 13. Of course I remembered my nightmare—and the calendar from my nightmare taped on the locker door.
    But I had to open the locker. I didn’t want to carry my stuff around with me for the rest of the year!
    â€œHey, Luke!” I saw Darnell Cross waving to me from the doorway to the science lab.