Xander and the Lost Island of Monsters Read Online Free PDF

why I had to speak to Peyton. Besides the video game. “I…the teacher…Mr. Stedman…” I was babbling, as I always did when I spoke to Mr. Phasis. “He gave me some work for Peyton.”
    Mr. Phasis leaned against the door frame and considered me the way my grandmother considers mushy brown bananas when she’s deciding whether to make some banana bread or just throw them away. “Why didn’t Peyton get it at school?” He crossed his massive arms over his barrel chest.
    I shrugged. “Mr., um, Stedman, like, forgot.”
    Mr. Phasis looked down his long nose at me. The same nose Peyton has. Peyton says it’s an aquiline nose, which means it’s like an eagle’s. “Two minutes. No more.” He moved aside. I leaped through before he could change his mind, and ran upstairs.
    In his bedroom, Peyton stood at the far corner of his bed, struggling with the upended mattress. Grunting, he pulled a blue fitted sheet over the corner, then pushed the mattress back down onto the bed frame.
    Immediately the sheet slid off the corner. “ARRRGH!” Peyton squawked. “IT. WON’T. STAY. DOWN!” He sat on the bed, put his hands in his feathery hair, and tousled it until it was as wild as a tangle of weeds.
    â€œHey.”
    Peyton looked up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Was he crying? “Now is not a good time, Xander.”
    I gulped, feeling my own cheeks go hot. Maybe I could cheer him up. I held up the 3DS. “Look what I got for my birthday.”
    â€œGood for you.” Peyton stood up again and turned his back to me. “I can’t hang out. I’ve got chores to do. I’ve been working on this stupid bed for more than an hour.” He lowered his voice into an imitation of his father’s. “‘There’s a wrinkle here, son. Redo it.’” He kicked the bed frame, then screeched and grabbed his foot. “OOWWWWW!”
    â€œHey, what’d the bed ever do to you?” I put the 3DS in my pocket and shut the door. “Didn’t he show you how to do it?”
    â€œYeah, but only once, and I didn’t think it would be so hard.” Peyton sniffled, his brows knitting together. “Who cares if there’s a wrinkle? Why does it have to be so perfect? I’m not in his stupid military.” Peyton flopped on the bed again.
    â€œLeave it to me.” Finally, I could prove to Mr. Phasis that I knew something. “My grandmother showed me how to do this.”
    â€œBut doesn’t she do it some weird Japanese way or something?”
    â€œNo, she doesn’t do it some weird Japanese way or something. She does it better than a military guy,” I retorted. “Just you watch.”
    Peyton had missed one key step—you have to put one corner of the fitted sheet on first, then the opposite diagonal corner, pulling it taut. After I did the other two corners, I put the flat sheet on, folding the top part down like a tight envelope. Finally, I showed him the special secret. I slid under Peyton’s bed and pulled the corners as snug as possible so there wasn’t a single wrinkle on the surface.
    â€œThanks, Xander.” Peyton sounded relieved. I saw his bare feet hopping back and forth. “It looks one hundred percent perfect now.”
    â€œNo prob.” I gave the sheet one final tug.
    Directly below me, I heard Peyton’s dad moving around on the first floor. “Ha,” I said. “Your dad sure is loud.”
    â€œTell me something I don’t know.” Peyton threw a blanket over the bed.
    â€œDo the corners like I showed you, and I’ll pull this tight, too.” I fixed up the blanket.
    Downstairs, Mr. Phasis’s voice rumbled. I could catch some of the words. “I better go see…little ne’er-do-well…distracting Peyton.”
    Did he just call me a “ne’er do well”?
Indignation rose in my throat like