Read Online Creature from the 7th Grade : Boy or Beast (9781101591833) by Andy (ILT) Bob; Rash Balaban - Free Book Online Page B

up the stairs to Stevenson Middle School. I carry my milk crate in my claws, since none of the chairs at school could possibly fit me anymore.
    I push open the front door with my powerful tail. Mr. Arkady floats smoothly across the deserted lobby. He waves his bony hand at me. “How about seventh period, sir?” I ask.
    â€œI look forvard to seeink you then, Mr. Drinkvater!” He disappears into the assembly. There isn’t a student in sight. I guess everybody’s already in their seats.
    Well, nearly everybody. Sam and Lucille come racing around the corner. “Everybody’s terrified of you!” Lucille exclaims when she sees me. “Rachel Klempner told the entire class you bit Alice Pincus yesterday and then went on a rampage after Mrs. Adams told you no eating people on school property.”
    â€œReally?” I ask.
    â€œWhy else do you think they had to call a special assembly?” Sam replies. “You’re the biggest thing to happen to Stevenson Middle School in years.” Sam is so excited he tugs at his nose ring and it falls to the floor. Lucille and I pretend we don’t notice him picking it up, like we always do when he drops it.
    â€œWhat’s that thing on your head, Charlie?” Lucille asks.
    â€œIt’s a cap,” I reply. “My mom made it for me last night. What do you think?”
    â€œI think you should take it off,” Sam tells me. He hides his nose with his left hand and clips the ring back into place with his right. “Fast.”
    â€œThat bad, huh?” I ask.
    â€œWorse,” Lucille replies.
    I remove my cap and put it in my backpack just as Principal Muchnick hurries down the center hall stairs looking unhappy. He has two main expressions: “stern” and “sterner.” Right now he’s way past “sterner” and approaching “if looks could kill.”
    â€œYou’re five and a half minutes late, Drinkwater,” he says, looking at his watch. “I’ve been looking all over for you. This is not a very promising way to begin ‘provisional reentry.’” I bet he just can’t wait for me to goof up so he can send me home again. “Lucille and Sam: go right inside and find a seat. The place is packed to the gills. No offense, Drinkwater.”
    â€œNo offense taken, sir.”
    â€œCome with me,” Principal Muchnick orders. “Assembly is about to begin. You will be asked to say a few words. Keep your remarks succinct and to the point.”
    What remarks? Why didn’t anybody tell me I would be called upon to speak? I would have prepared a few pertinent remarks. It’s not bad enough I have to go stand in front of a crowd of people who hate my guts, now I have to say something to them?
    â€œMove it, buster.” Principal Muchnick leads me through the hallway that takes us to the auditorium’s backstage entrance. We walk up a small flight of stairs, step onto the side of the stage, and pause behind the big red curtains. I can hear a low rumble of eager voices from the audience. The assembly is about to begin.
    Speaking extemporaneously in front of large groups of people is not high on my list of favorite things to do.
Don’t panic, Charlie. You’ll be all right.
I take deep breaths and remind myself that we touched on public speaking briefly in Mrs. Adams’s English class last fall. Mrs. Adams always told us to keep our speeches “informative, entertaining, and brief.” I begin to sweat profusely.
    I notice Dr. Craverly, the school psychologist, standing in the middle of the stage, anxiously tapping the mic with his finger. “Testing, one two three. Testing, one two three.” The audience gets very quiet. “Before we start, I’d just like to say a heartfelt thank-you to . . .” Dr. Craverly stares at some notes he holds in his trembling hand. “To . . . to . . . to . . .