Sophie Simon Solves Them All Read Online Free

in his usual seat with Julia.
    He was sitting in the fourth seat from the back on the left side, which was the second to grossest seat on the whole bus.
    And he was sitting next to Sophie Simon.
    Owen was sitting there because he had a problem.
    A huge problem.
    An enormous problem.
    And he was positive that Sophie Simon was the only person who could help him.
    But Sophie wasn’t paying any attention to him. Owen didn’t even think she knew he was there. She was busy reading a gigantic book called Basics of Human Psychology .
    Owen didn’t know how Sophie could read a book like that. He got bored halfway through the title.
    Sophie sure was weird, he thought. She was always reading boring books. And talking to Sophie made his brain dizzier than a windup monkey toy.
    No wonder she didn’t have any friends.
    Owen looked to the front of the bus. He half-hoped Julia would be looking his way so he could make “I really can’t do this” eyes at her, and she’d understand and make “It’s okay, come sit up here with me” eyes at him.
    Julia wasn’t looking his way.
    She was holding a piece of paper over her head. She’d ripped one out of her green journalist’s notebook and scribbled a note on it. Owen knew she’d written it just for him.
    Get on with it already.
    Owen ran his hands over the creases in his pants.
    He turned back to Sophie Simon.
    â€œUm, Sophie?” he said softly.
    Sophie did not look up.
    Owen cleared his throat and tried again.
    â€œUm? Sophie? ”
    She still did not look up.
    Maybe it was useless, Owen thought. His problem was too big. Probably even someone as smart as Sophie Simon couldn’t solve a problem as big as his.
    It all had to do with his birthday on Sunday.
    For most kids, birthdays were happy times.

    For most kids, birthdays meant pin the tail on the donkey and balloons and maybe a dinosaur cake.
    Most kids did not have Owen’s mother.
    This year, Owen’s mother was planning a “birthday pool-party extravaganza.”
    There would be an eight-layer ice cream cake.
    There would be a high-dive contest.
    And there would be an “old-fashioned taffy pull.”
    Owen didn’t like eight-layer ice cream cakes. One of the layers always toppled off your plate and landed in your lap and got you messy.
    He didn’t like high-dive contests. He was terrified of heights and petrified of diving.
    And he did not want to participate in an old-fashioned taffy pull. Taffy was sticky and sloppy and sweet. He didn’t want to pull it. He didn’t want to do anything to it.
    But the worst part of Owen’s birthday was the present.
    Every year, Owen asked his mom for something he really, really wanted.
    And every year, she got him something completely different.
    Two years ago, when Owen was turning seven, he’d asked his mom for a new pair of shoes—black lace-up ones to go with his school pants. Owen had really wanted a pair of nice, clean, shiny black school shoes.
    But Mrs. Luu hadn’t gotten him nice, clean, shiny black school shoes.
    Instead, she’d bought him antigravity boots.
    Those boots sent Owen flying into the ceiling like a rocket, and off to the hospital with a concussion.
    Last year, for Owen’s eighth birthday, he’d asked for a book about robots—one with colorful pictures and fun facts about robots through the ages. Owen had really wanted a nice, small, fact-filled book about robots.
    But Mrs. Luu hadn’t gotten him a nice, small, fact-filled book about robots.
    Instead, she’d bought him an actual, life-size robot with “realistic battle action noises” and a toy laser gun.
    That robot had fired sparks at Owen for five days straight, until he finally figured out how to take out the batteries.
    It seemed like no matter what Owen wanted, his mother got him the exact opposite .
    So this year, Owen hadn’t been so sure it was a good idea to tell his mother