Project Jackalope Read Online Free

surviving until the fair.
    The science fair had given me an idea, though. Wikipedia wasn’t enough. I had to test my theory, make sure what I was dealing with.
    I sat on the floor staring at my hamper until I heard my parents go to bed. Then I snuck out into the kitchen.
    My dad always likes to get those tiny little airplane bottles of alcohol whenever he goes on trips, and he had a pretty good collection. I crept up to the shelf where he kept the bottles and poked around, trying to identify the whiskey ones. There was one right in front, but it had a bunch of red wax around the top, which made it pretty noticeable and probably messy to open, neither of which was good. It was too big a risk. I put it back into its little dust-free circle and kept poking around. Another one farther back looked pretty basic and plain,like it wouldn’t be missed. And it was all in the name of science, right? I stuck it into my jeans pocket and snagged a Dixie cup from the bathroom before sneaking back into my room. It was time for the riskiest part of my plan.
    I unscrewed the bottle top and poured the whiskey into the cup. Then I peered over the edge of the hamper.
    The jackalope was hunkered down in what used to be my gym suit, glaring up at me with murder in his eyes. Or with a sleepy expression, one or the other. It’s hard to say. I held the Dixie cup by the extreme edge and reached into the hamper, nestling the cup in the underwear fluff near the jackalope (but making sure to keep my fingers clear of the antler area). Then I waited.
    The jackalope kept glaring at me for a couple of long minutes, and then its nose got to working. It sniffed at the air suspiciously and then heaved itself up onto its feet. It blinked its huge eyes at me and then hopped over to the cup. So far so good.
    After one last suspicious look at me, it leaned forward and quickly lapped up the whiskey with a daintypink tongue. Then it sat back on its haunches, smacked its lips, and belched like a trucker.
    It was an impressive display. A belch like that could win a guy some major points.
    The jackalope burped again and flopped over onto its side, but I barely noticed. I slumped back against the wall, all the energy drained out of me. My experiment had worked. It was definitely a jackalope. Which meant one thing. I didn’t care what Professor Twitchett said. I needed help.
    I needed Agatha.

4.
I Convince a Girl to Go Out with Me
    That must’ve been the longest night of my life. I don’t think I slept at all. Even if the idea of a jackalope in my room hadn’t kept me awake, the snoring would’ve. That mutant bunny practically stripped the paint off my walls, he was so loud.
    I fished the shredded remains of Twitchett’s note out of the hamper while the little monster slept, but the pieces that had survived didn’t give me much to go on. My favorite shred, the biggest one, said handsomely reward you for your troub, which sounded fine to me. I could deal with a reward. The smaller shreds didn’t sound as promising, though. I tried to put the note back together, but somekey parts had definitely been ingested. All that was left in the end was logize, but no choi, room is the only place they don’t kno, grave danger from, and not what they seem. Hardly a bedtime story, especially when you don’t have any idea what isn’t what it seems or what the danger is.
    I did my best to think of any alternative to talking to Agatha, but I came up dry every time. I don’t want to say hanging out with her is social suicide, but with her big mouth, she can clear a lunch table faster than anybody I know. (So yeah, it’s social suicide.) But she knows Twitchett, she knows about science crap, and she wouldn’t give me half the grief that Clint Warburton would if he found out I was freaked by a tiny mutant bunny. So it had to be Agatha. I just hoped Twitchett would get over it and give me the reward anyway.
    So, no sleep? That was the downside. The upside was that I was dressed