by R. L. Stine
“The geek enters the kitchen for his morning feeding,” Greg spoke into his tape recorder. “What does a geek eat? Let’s watch and find out.”
“Greg!” I sang. I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him.
“Hey!” He swatted me away. “Get off me, geek!”
“And Pam!” I gave her a big hug too.
“What’s your problem, pea-brain?” she snapped. “I know—you got kidnapped by aliens last night! Am I right? And they brainwashed you!”
I ignored her jokes. I patted the top of her Brillo pad hair.
“Cut it out!” she whined.
I gave my mom the biggest hug of all.
“Thanks, honey.” She patted me on the back. At least she was on my side, once in a while.
“Get some cereal, Matt,” she said. “I’m running late.”
I sighed happily and fixed myself some cereal. Everything was back to normal. No one even noticed I’d been gone.
I’m never going into that stupid guest room again, I vowed. Never. I’m going to stay in my little room from now on—no matter how cramped it gets.
THWACK! Something stung me on the back of the neck.
I whirled around. Greg grinned at me. He held a straw in one hand.
He spoke into the tape recorder. “What happens if you shoot a paper wad at the geek? How does he respond?”
“I bet he cries like a baby,” Pam said.
I shrugged and went back to my cereal. “You can’t bother me,” I said. “I’m too happy.”
Pam and Greg exchanged glances. Pam twirled one finger at the side of her head. It was the international signal for “He’s nuts.”
“Something has happened to the geek,” Greg announced.
“Yeah,” Pam agreed. “The geek has changed.”
School was so much fun that day. It was great to be in seventh grade again. So much easier than high school.
We played soccer in gym. I even scored a goal.
But on my way to my last class, I saw something that made my heart stop.
A girl walking down the hall. About my age. Long, thick blond hair in a ponytail.
Oh, no.
Lacie!
I froze. What should I do?
Were the Reality Police still after me? I had fixed everything! They didn’t need to put me to sleep anymore!
I’ve got to get out of here, I decided. I got ready to run.
Then the girl turned around. She grinned at me.
It wasn’t Lacie. Just some girl with long blond hair.
I took a deep breath. I need to relax, I thought.
It’s over now. It was all a bad dream. Sort of.
The girl walked away. I went to my last class. No sign of Lacie, Bruce, or Wayne anywhere.
I whistled all the way home, thinking about how easy my homework was going to be.
I walked into the house. “Hi, Matt!” Mom called.
“Mom?” I was surprised to see her. She was usually at work when I got home. “What are you doing home so early?”
She smiled at me. “I took the day off,” she explained. “I had a few things to do around the house.”
“Oh.” I shrugged and turned on the TV.
Mom switched it off. “Matt—aren’t you curious?”
“Curious? About what?”
“About what I’ve been doing all day?”
I glanced around the living room. Everything looked the same.
“I don’t know,” I said. “What have you been doing?”
She smiled again. She looked excited about something.
“Have you forgotten?” she said. “It’s your birthday this week!”
Actually, I had forgotten. So much weird stuff had been going on.
When you’re running for your life, you don’t think much about your birthday.
“I have a special surprise for you,” Mom said. “Come upstairs and I’ll show you.”
I followed her upstairs. I started getting excited. What could the surprise be?
It wasn’t like Mom to make such a big deal about my birthday. The surprise must be something really great, I decided.
She stopped in front of my bedroom door.
“Is the surprise in my room?” I asked.
“Look.” She pushed open the door.
I peered inside. My room was filled with cartons. Big boxes from floor to ceiling.
Wow!
“Are all those presents for me?” I asked.
Mom laughed. “Presents? All those boxes? Of course not!” She cracked up.
I knew it had to be too good to be true.
“Well—what’s the surprise, then?” I asked.
“Matt,” she began, “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day. And I decided you were right. Your room is too small for you. So I’ve turned it into a storage closet.”
“You—you what?”
“That’s right.” She walked across the hall.
She threw open the guest room door. “Ta-da!”
No. Oh, no.
It can’t be. Not that.
“Happy Birthday, Matt!” Mom shouted. “Welcome to your new room!”
“Uh… uh… uh…” I couldn’t say a word.
My bed, my dresser, all my posters and books—they were all set up in the guest room.
“Matt? What’s the matter?” Mom cried. “This is what you said you wanted!”
My mouth fell open. I started to scream.
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