The Worst Class Trip Ever Read Online Free PDF

died in it and they never found the body. It had a rattling air conditioner and an old boxy TV that probably ran on coal. We
unpacked our suitcases and put our stuff away. Matt put the detonator, or whatever it was, under his clothes in his drawer.
    We decided that, between the room smell and Cameron, we needed to open the window, which was hard because it was kind of painted shut. When Matt and I finally shoved it open I leaned out and saw
that our room was right over the roof above the hotel front driveway. While I was leaning out I heard a voice say “Hello,” which surprised me so much that I jerked my head straight up
and banged it on the window frame. The voice giggled, and I looked to my right and saw it was Suzana leaning out of the next window over. She gave me a smile that made my stomach jump.
    “Does your room smell as bad as ours?” she said.
    “Worse,” I said. “We have Cameron in here. I’m thinking of sleeping with my head out the window.”
    She laughed—I
really
like it when I make her laugh—then said, “So what was that about back there? In the plane?”
    I shook my head. “Those two weird guys…You saw them, right?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Well, I let Matt convince me they were trying to blow up the White House.”
    “On the plane? Blow it up how?”
    “With a missile. Or something.”
    She blinked. “A missile?”
    “I know it sounds stupid. It
is
stupid. I can’t believe he got me to take it seriously. I think Matt has this ability to lower the IQ of everybody around him. It’s like
a superpower.”
    Suzana laughed again. Suddenly this was seeming like not such a totally horrible class trip.
    So of course Matt had to ruin everything.
    He stuck his head out next to mine and said, “Hey, Suzana! You know Wyatt loves you, right?”
    “Shut up, idiot,” I said, trying to push him back inside.
    “Wait for him, Suzana!” shouted Matt. “He’ll get taller someday!”
    “Shut UP,” I said, still pushing.
    “Maybe not this year, Suzana!” shouted Matt. “Maybe not for many years! But some day, when you’re seventy, you might start shrinking, and Wyatt could catch up to you!
Wait for him!”
    I shoved him really hard. The two of us stumbled back into the room and fell on the floor, and he finally stopped yelling, because he was laughing too hard to breathe. I got back up and stuck my
head out the window.
    Suzana was gone. I turned around and looked down at Matt.
    “You are
such
an idiot.”
    “Maybe,” he said, catching his breath. “But at least I don’t think Suzana Delgado might actually like me.”
    “She does like me.”
    “As a
friend
. Which is also how she likes her dog. And which is not how she likes J.P.”
    I didn’t have an answer for that, since it was true.
    Victor was standing by the door, watching us with a frowny expression, like he was looking through a microscope and we were some kind of fungus cells.
    “We’re supposed to be in the lobby,” he said. “For the bus tour.”
    So we got into the sad old elevator and clunked down to the lobby and stood around in clots waiting for the bus. I didn’t even want to look in the direction of the Hot Girl clot because I
was so embarrassed about what Matt yelled out the window to Suzana. But I glanced that way and just for a second she looked at me and smiled and I kind of smiled back and then looked away, trying
to look casual, like I had other things on my mind besides her, except of course I didn’t and my face was probably the same color as a stop sign.
    How do girls
do
this?
    The bus came and we got on for our tour and I was happy about two things:
    1. I didn’t get stuck next to Cameron.
    2. Instead of Mr. Barto, we had an actual professional tour guide. His name was Gene Weingarten. You know those joke disguise glasses that make you look like Groucho Marx, with the big nose and
the huge bushy black eyebrows and the bushy black mustache? Well, Gene—he said we should call him Gene—looked exactly