Read Online Pizza Is the Best Breakfast by Allison Gutknecht - Free Book Online Page A

wave my marshmallow ghost around like he is floating.
    In an equally spooky voice, Paige answers, “I’m afraid they’re going to bite our heads off,” and then she sticks her entire marshmallow ghostinside her mouth and chomps down. I do the same to mine, and I am pretty sure these marshmallow ghosts are the best recipe I have ever made.
    And for the first time all week, I remember why Paige truly is my favorite cousin.

    *  *  *
    â€œDennis stole my cookbook,” I say to Anya the minute I see her at school the next morning. “He took it out of my book bag.”
    â€œNo way,” Anya says. “He is terrible.”
    â€œWill you help me get it back?” I ask.
    â€œOf course,” Anya answers, and this is why she is my favorite person in the world. “I’ll go distract him. You look in his book bag.”
    â€œWhat if it’s not in there?” I ask.
    â€œThen we’ll check his desk.”
    â€œWhat if he took it home?”
    â€œI bet he didn’t,” Anya says. “You stay here.” She points toward Dennis’s cubby. “When you see me talking to him, make your move into the book bag.”
    I hide behind the curtain in the cubbies and watch Anya walk over to Dennis’s desk. She stands behind his chair so that Dennis has toturn around to talk to her and is facing away from the cubbies. Anya is pretty much a genius, I think.
    As fast as my legs can go, I run over to Dennis’s cubby and unzip his bag. I don’t like touching Dennis’s things because they are covered in all his gross Dennis germs, but this is an emergency. I open the book bag as wide as I can and look inside.
    â€œYuck,” I say. Dennis’s bag is filled with dirty tissues and candy wrappers and bottle caps and action figures (which he is not supposed to have in school) and a bunch of other dumb boy things.
    But no cookbook.
    I stuff his bag back in his cubby and march straight over to his desk. I do not even care about Anya’s plan anymore, because I am furious.
    â€œGive it back,” I say as soon as I reach him, and I say each word like there is a period after it.
    â€œWhat are you talking about, Polka Dot?” Dennis responds.
    â€œGive it back,” I say. “I know you have it.”
    â€œI don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    â€œGIVE. IT. BACK!” I am yelling now. “It’s very important!”
    â€œI told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Dennis answers. “I didn’t take any of your ugly things.”
    I step right over to Dennis so I am standing above his Mohawk, and I push my way toward his desk. I look inside and begin dumping out all of the contents—folders and notebooks and crinkled-up papers and dried-up markers and dusty raisins. They hit the floor one right after the other as Dennis scrambles to catch them.
    â€œMandy! MANDY!” I whirl around at the sound of Mrs. Spangle’s voice. “What on earth is the problem now ?”
    â€œDennis stole my cookbook,” I explain. “My grandmother gave it to me, and it is very important, and I need it back now or else I won’t get to go to the carnival with my cousin, and he stole it.”
    â€œI didn’t steal it!” Dennis yells back. “I promise! Mrs. Spangle, I didn’t.”
    â€œMandy, when was the last time you saw your cookbook?”
    â€œYesterday,” I say. “I had to bring it to school because I didn’t want my cousin to cook out of it without me, because then Grandmom would have brought her to the carnival and not me, so I had it in my book bag and I was showing it to Anya and Natalie, and now it’s GONE.”
    â€œSee, this is why I don’t like you bringing things that are important to you to school,” Mrs. Spangle says. “But since that ship has already sailed, did you check your cubby?”
    â€œYes,” I