59 - The Haunted School Read Online Free Page B

red-and-black crepe-paper tablecloth
over the refreshment table. I glanced up at the scoreboard clock. Seven thirty.
The dance was scheduled to start at eight.
    “We still have a lot to do,” I said.
    Ben tugged his end of the paper tablecloth too hard. I heard a soft ripping
sound.
    “Ooops,” he said. “Anybody bring any tape?”
    “It’s no problem,” Thalia told him. “We’ll just cover the torn part with soda
bottles or something.”
    I glanced at the clock again. “When is the band supposed to arrive?”
    “Any minute,” Thalia replied. “They were supposed to get here early to set
up.”
    Some kids had formed a band called Grunt. It was sort of a strange band—five guitar players and a drummer. And I heard some kids saying that three of
the guitar players didn’t really know how to play.
    But Mrs. Borden asked them to perform a few songs at the dance.
    It took us a while to get the tablecloth straight. It wasn’t quite big enough
for the table.
    “What’s next?” Ben asked. “Do we have decorations for the gym doors?”
    Before I could answer, the double doors swung open, and Mrs. Borden came
charging in. At first, I didn’t recognize her. She wore a shiny bright red party
dress. And she had her black curly hair piled up high on her head behind a
silver tiara.
    Even with her hair piled up, she still wasn’t much taller than we were!
    Her eyes darted around the gym as she hurried over to us. “It looks great!
Just fabulous, guys!” she gushed. “Oh, you worked so hard! You did a
wonderful job!”
    We thanked her.
    She slapped a Polaroid camera into my hands. “Take pictures, Tommy,” she
instructed me. “Snapshots of the decorations. Hurry. Take a whole bunch before
people start arriving.”
    I examined the camera. “Well… okay,” I agreed. “But Thalia, Ben, and I
still have some stuff to do. We have posters for the doors. And we need more
balloons over there. And—and—”
    Mrs. Borden laughed. “You’re a little stressed !”
    Thalia and Ben laughed too. I could feel my face turning hot. I knew I was
blushing.
    “Take it easy, Tommy,” Mrs. Borden said, patting my shoulder soothingly. “Or
you won’t survive until the dance.”
    I forced a smile. “I’m okay,” I told her.
    Little did I realize that—after all my hard work—I would never see the
dance.

 
 
10
     
     
    “Yo! Look out!”
    “Move that amp! Hey, Greta—move that amp!”
    “Move it yourself!”
    “Where’s my wa-wa? Did anyone see my wa-wa pedal?”
    “I ate it for breakfast!”
    “You’re not funny. Move that amp!”
    The band members arrived while I was snapping Polaroids. And they instantly
took over, making a big racket as they set up by the bleachers.
    The guitarists were all guys. Greta was the drummer. Seeing her lug her drums
across the gym reminded me of the lipstick battle in class on Thursday.
    After school, I’d asked Thalia what the big deal was. “Why did you go nuts?”
I asked.
    “I didn’t go nuts!” Thalia insisted. “Greta did. She thinks because she’s so
big and strong she can just grab whatever she wants.”
    “She’s really weird,” I agreed. “But you were so upset—”
    “I like that lipstick. That’s all,” Thalia replied. “It’s my best
lipstick. Why should I let her grab it from me?”
    Now Greta, dressed in black as always, was setting up with the rest of the
band. They were all laughing and shoving each other around, tossing cables back
and forth, tripping over their guitar cases. Acting like big shots because they
had a band.
    A few other kids started to arrive. I recognized the two girls who were the
ticket takers. And a couple of kids from the refreshment committee, who started
complaining that somebody ordered only Mountain Dew and no Coke.
    I scrambled around, snapping photos of the banners and the balloons. I was
setting up to shoot our bison poster—when a loud shout made me spin around.
    I saw Greta and one of the guitar