Alien in My Pocket #5: Ohm vs. Amp Read Online Free

look confused. “I have no idea what smell you’re talking about.”
    â€œAre you cooking eggs in your room?”
    â€œEggs? What? Seriously, Mom? Do you think I’m running a truck stop in there?”
    â€œMaybe! You tell me, Zack. I was overcome with the smell of rotten eggs in my own son’s room.” Her eyes got watery, either from emotion or the act of recalling the smelly egg smell. “I actually gagged—in my own house!” she continued. “Cooking eggs in your room? That is not safe. You’re putting your whole family in danger.”
    â€œWhat? I was not cooking eggs. Trust me. It’s probably just my baseball cleats under my bed or something, covered with some kind of sock mold or toe fungus.”
    I instantly knew what the smell really was. It was Ohm, making my mom think she was smelling rotten eggs. It was an Erdian mind trick, not unlike a skunk’s defense, but you only think you’re smelling something disgusting. Amp had done this trick to me before.
    The terrible smell was overwhelming, and a great way to get rid of someone. But it was also something I could not easily explain to Mom without blowing the whole aliens-are-in-your-house-right-now thing.
    I squirmed in my chair. At least it sounded like she hadn’t seen the new dent in the wall above my bed. That was something to be thankful for.
    â€œAnd there’s a big dent in your wall,” she said. “I can’t imagine what that is from.”
    â€œI think Olivia did that,” I muttered. Talk about throwing your best friend under the bus. I could swear I heard Olivia grunt in protest outside the kitchen.
    Mom stared at me with a mixture of anger, puzzlement, and disappointment—the big three. “I’m calling my sister tomorrow. Your aunt Joni is a dietician and she can help you see the error of your ways.”
    â€œMost of that isn’t even mine,” I protested, staring at the mountain of empty calories in front of me.
    She shook her head at me. “Marshmallows? SweeTarts? Ritz Crackers? Rotten eggs? I’m speechless, Zack!”
    â€œSpeechless? Oh, you seem to be doing okay.”
    She narrowed her eyes at me. “Watch your tongue, Willy Wonka. I don’t want to find any more wrappers or walk in on you roasting marshmallows.Or cooking a Denver omelet. Got it?”
    I wanted to argue, but couldn’t stop thinking about the strange alien up in my room and the possibility that we were just minutes from a global invasion.
    And I couldn’t explain a single thing without blowing Amp’s cover, or think fast enough to come up with a half-good lie.
    That’s when I saw Olivia poking her head in the kitchen doorway right over my mom’s shoulder. She was waving at me to come urgently. Her teeth were clenched. Her eyes were bugged out.
    What now?
    I did a fake yawn and said I was sorry. I got up, gave Mom a half-hearted sideways hug, and told her I’d clean up the mess in my room. “Don’t worry, my diet isn’t as bad as it looks.”
    She didn’t hug me back, which was good, because if she had, she might have seen Olivia waving like a lunatic just a few feet behind her.

Bedspread Rumble
    â€œW hat were you going on about in there?” Olivia hissed. “Like two old ladies having tea and crumpets!”
    â€œWhat the heck is a crumpet?”
    â€œWe’ve kind of got an urgent situation here, Zack.”
    I sighed. “She thinks I’ve got a junk-food-eating problem.”
    â€œShe’s right about that.”
    â€œThanks for your support.”
    From around the corner, I could hear my mom throwing away the mountain of marshmallows and crinkly old candy wrappers.
    â€œSo, Amp, how do you want to play this?” I asked into the darkness.
    â€œAmp’s not here right now,” Olivia said. “Hebit me on the finger—the rat—and then he ran off.”

    â€œAre you