Mob School Survivor Page 4

  As much as she likes to pretend I don't exist, she pretty much needs me to keep her on track. You're welcome, is what I wanted to say to her.

  Then I snatched Great-Great-Grandpa Gerald's photo right up. My Evil Twin can write about Cat-Lady Creeper or Convict Creeper, for all I care. But Gerald is all mine.

  Dad started running through the family tree with my Evil Twin. She didn't seem all that into it, though. She said she was going to write her report on some guy named Herobrine.

  Dad was like, "Hero who?"

  And then Cate started to cry. AGAIN.

  It turns out that Herobrine is some phantom miner who used to be human. So Cate thought Chloe was making fun of Steve.

  I thought that was kind of a leap. But Mom took Cate aside and started saying all this stuff like "It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

  REALLY?

  See, I know that's not true. I love burned pork chops. But Mom hasn't made them in so long, I almost wish she'd NEVER made them. Because if she hadn't, the brussels sprouts she makes now wouldn't seem nearly so disgusting.

  But I kept my mouth shut. The last thing I wanted to do was get stuck in a conversation with my mom and sister about love.

  Good thing I didn't, too, because I'm in my room now, and I can still hear them out there in the living room talking about it. BLECH.

  Anyway, enough about all that. This creeper has a history report to write.

  DAY 20: TUESDAY

  Wow, I really did not see that coming.

  Sam met me at school last night, and he started picking a fight. SAM. You know, the slime who usually can't wipe the smile off his face? Yeah, that one.

  I didn't even recognize him when he bounced up to me all quivery and angry. He was almost spitting when he said, "You're just a sneaky creeper!"

  Say WHAT?

  Then he bounced away without even explaining why he was so mad.

  I started sweating right there in the hallway. Did I mention that sweating is not good for my psoriasis? Stress isn't either, and Sam had just dumped a whole heap of it on me—for no good reason.

  I had to hear it from Ziggy Zombie first. Ziggy said there's a rumor going around that I was the one who wrote the note—the note that broke up Sam and Willow's little romance.

  Now, let's just get one thing straight: I did not write that note. I might have, if I'd gotten the idea before someone else did. Because I don't think that Willow Witch is all that good for Sam. But I didn't do it.

  I asked Ziggy who started the rumor, and he didn't know. I guess it doesn't really matter. The point is, Sam BELIEVED it. And he stopped talking to me.

  Mondays are hard enough to face. But last night was even tougher without that slime by my side.

  In history class, I tried to tell Sam that I didn't write that note. But he wouldn't even look at me. During our quiz, I could see he was shaking—he was THAT mad at me. And I started itching like crazy.

  When I leaned sideways to rub my shoulder against the back of my chair, Mrs. Eagle-Eyes Enderwoman caught me and thought I was cheating. So now I look even MORE like a sneaky creeper. And Sam didn't even stick up for me.

  During lunch, I didn't see him at all. Ziggy scooted his chair close to mine and offered me half of his flesh sandwich. But the way I was feeling, I couldn't have forced down a burned pork chop. It didn't help when Ziggy happily pointed out that my rash was coming back. GREAT.

  I went to art early hoping I'd run into Sam. But he wasn't there. We were dying wool with dyes made from flowers and bone meal. Can I just say that wool is a VERY itchy material? Somehow, I made it through class. But I must have been thinking about Sam the whole time, because I put some cactus in my dye and turned it slime green.

  Sam wasn't in science class either. He must have gone home sick. We were supposed to memorize all the different ores in the Overworld. But how could a creeper think about that at a time like this?

  Instead, I tried to write a rap song. That usually makes me feel better. But every song I started was kind of lame.

  So finally, I just gave up.

  DAY 24: SATURDAY

  What a waste of a week. I should just scratch my "30 Days to Surviving Mob Middle School" plan right now and start a new one—a 30-day plan for making up with Sam.

  But at this rate, that might take a hundred days. Or a thousand. Seriously, there might not even be enough days in the Overworld.

  I know—I'm being dramatic. But can you blame me? Sam's been ignoring me all week!

  Do you want to know how bad it's gotten? I'll tell you. There's a rash over my ENTIRE body right now. And there's something else, too, but I'm only going to say it ONCE. Here goes:

  Ziggy Zombie invited me for a sleepover. I guess with Sam and me on the outs, he's making his move to fill the "new best friend" spot. And I'm in such a funk that I actually said yes.

  Yup, you heard me: I said YES.

  Wait, what? I said YES?

  A zombie asked me for a sleepover, and I said YES? What was I thinking???

  This fight with Sam has GOT to stop, or there's no hope for me. None at all.

  I tried to get out of the sleepover, but Mom said that wouldn't be polite. I wanted to tell her that I've watched Ziggy eat lunch for three weeks straight now, and he's not all that big on politeness. But there's no arguing with Mom.

  So I packed my survival kit:

  • My anti-itch coal-tar lotion. I'm pretty much taking baths in the stuff now, but I can't say that it's really working.

  • Snacks—and lots of them. You never know what a zombie mom is going to put on the dinner table.

  • My book on squids. The way Ziggy looked at Sticky, he'll be all over this book. So if he wants to do anything boring or weird, I'll just stick this book in his face. Presto. New activity.

  • My running shoes. Maybe Ziggy and I can practice our sprinting. And I can outrun him and just disappear.

  The good news is zombies can't be out in daylight. So this sleepover won't drag on forever. With any luck, I can be out of there before dawn and not even have to go to sleep.

  So I guess it's not really a "sleepover." It's just an "over." And hopefully it'll be OVER fast!

  DAY 25: SUNDAY MORNING

  Oh, man. I do not even know where to start with this one.

  I guess I'll start with the good news, because there's not very much of that. The good news is that Ziggy's mom is a pretty good cook. Her roasted carrots and potatoes were right up there with Mom's (but I'd never tell Mom that).

  I steered clear of the roasted meat though, because I couldn't really tell what it was. And it had this sort of rotten smell.

  So that's the good news. I hope you weren't hoping for more.

  The bad news is that Ziggy has a baby zombie sister. AND a pet spider. And I really don't know which one is more terrifying.

  The spider's name is Leggy—imagine that. I guess zombies aren't really known for their brains or creativity.

  Leggy stayed out of our way, which I was glad about. But I kept getting stuck in his webs. They were so sticky and ITCHY! Not to mention gross. I still feel like I have pieces of web stuck all over me, which does not help with my itchiness.

  So every time I got stuck in a web—and there were a LOT of times—Ziggy had to cut me out. And he was SO slow!

  You'd think a guy with a pet spider would be pretty speedy with those scissors.

  But there was nothing slow about Ziggy's sister, Zoe. That baby zombie zoomed around me in circles. She could even run through holes in the spider web and not get caught. I'm not making this stuff up—it really happened, even though I wish it were just a bad dream, believe me.

  So when Ziggy asked if I wanted to go spy on some villagers, I didn't pull out my squid book and try to distract him. I put on my running shoes and said, "Let's go."

  Ziggy lives near a village of farmers and miners. I don't get to see humans up close very often. My parents think mobs and humans should pretty much keep to t
hemselves—which explains the Steve incident. So if I get a chance to spy on a few humans, I'm going to take it. Yes, sirree.

  Ziggy led me to the edge of town. We hid behind a stone wall and watched the villagers finishing their chores.

  They wear all these different-colored outfits. It reminds me of the Fashion Queen, who is always trying to look like something else.

  When I asked Ziggy about it, he said it's because humans aren't a very good color. They're kind of pinkish-brown—not a good solid green like we are. That made sense to me. Every once in a while Ziggy says something smart, but I don't say so. A compliment like that could go to his head.

  Anyway, this one villager wasn't wearing robes. He wore a blue shirt and even bluer pants. Something about his clothes reminded me of Ziggy. When I looked at the zombie next to me, I realized he was wearing the exact SAME outfit! How weird is that?

  I mentioned that to Ziggy—but I must have said it too loud. He shushed me, which I thought was pretty rude.

  Everyone knows zombies are way louder than creepers.

  Then Ziggy said the villager was kind of famous and that his name was STEVE.

  Well, that just about knocked me right over. I made him say the name three times before I believed him.

  So Steve was REAL. I was looking at the guy who'd turned my sister's heart into a green glob of mush.

  I wanted to be mad at him, but I wasn't. He looked like a pretty nice guy. It's not his fault that my dad isn't big on humans.

  Then I saw this human girl walk out of a shop and stand next to Steve, like they were together or something. And get this: she had RED HAIR.

  All of a sudden, Rosy the Wig started making a whole lot of sense.

  We watched those villagers until they went into their houses and turned out the lights. Ziggy wanted to make scary noises and stuff outside their windows. I guess he does that sometimes at night—it's a zombie thing.

  But I kept thinking about Steve and Cate. And Sam and Willow. And all I really wanted to do was go home. So I told Ziggy about the squid book back at his house, and he pretty much sprinted all the way there.

  When Ziggy finally fell asleep, the sun was starting to come up. So I snuck out of his room to make my getaway.

  I wasn't expecting a watchdog outside the door—or a watch BABY.

  Zoe was in a playpen in the living room. I guess baby zombies don't have a problem with sunlight. She was standing next to the window, happy as a kid could be.

  But when she saw me, she wanted OUT. I guess she thought I was her ticket to freedom. I couldn't blame her. It would be a real bummer if you were the only one in your family who could play during the day.

  So I did what any decent creeper would do. I hung out with her—just for a little while.

  I sang her a rap nursery rhyme until she laid back down and started making sleepy grunts and groans.

  I guess having a baby sister has taught me SOMETHING (besides running for cover whenever that baby gets mad).

  By the time I left, the sun was hiding behind some clouds. It looked like it was going to rain, which was kind of a problem.

  On rainy days, all the mobs come out—even zombies. In fact, Ziggy probably woke up right after I left and wondered where I went. I'm going to have fun explaining THAT one tomorrow night at school.

  But right now? All I want to do is go home and sleep. Baby-zombie-sitting is exhausting stuff.

  DAY 25: SUNDAY NIGHT

  Mom woke me up early tonight to say that Chloe was missing. Her bed wasn't even slept in.

  I don't know why I have to be the one to go out searching for my Evil Twin. I'm probably the only one who WOULDN'T miss her if she actually went missing. But Mom said that if I found Chloe, she'd make me roasted potatoes for dinner.

  I saw my opportunity right then and there. Mom needed something from me and was willing to COOK for it. So I turned down her offer and asked for something even better: pork chops.

  Mom came back with (wait for it …) roasted potatoes. I guess she wasn't in the bargaining mood.

  I accepted her offer. I mean, potatoes aren't as good as burned pork chops, but they're a whole lot better than brussels sprouts. So I set out to find my Evil Twin.

  I looked all over our neighborhood first, but things were pretty quiet on the creeper cul-de-sac.

  The thing is, I don't really know where my sister hangs out. I don't know what she likes to do. I don't even know who her friends are.

  She wants to pretend that I don't exist. So I pretend she doesn't exist. And it's very hard to find someone who doesn't exist.

  I stopped for a moment and thought HARD. If I were my Evil Twin, what would I be doing right now?

  The answer came right to me: I'd be blowing up somewhere. And there's one place that's really good for that, a place where you can blow up without doing any damage: the strategic explosions field at school.

  School always looks weird on the weekend, like an abandoned mineshaft. The building was dark, with no lights on. And the fields were totally empty. It kind of gave me the willies.

  I looked at the oak tree that Bones hit with his arrow a couple of weeks ago. It seemed more like a couple of YEARS ago. I mean, Sam and I were actually still friends back then.

  There wasn't an arrow sticking out of the tree anymore.

  But there was something GREEN standing next to it. A creeper who looked very familiar. My Evil Twin. But what was she doing?

  Normally if I saw her somewhere, I'd head in the opposite direction. But I had a roasted potato dinner riding on this. So I walked right up to her and asked in my nicest fake voice what she was doing.

  I expected her to tell me to go away, or to call me Itchy and make some crack about my rash. Instead, she actually told me what she was doing. She said she was waiting for lightning—so that she could get HIT.

  Well, what does a creeper say to that? All I could think was, did she hit her head? Was she hungry? Had she been bitten by a cave spider?

  Lucky for me, she was feeling chatty. She reminded me about our great-grandpa who had been struck by lightning.

  I guess after I left the room last Sunday, Dad told her how Great-Grandpa Casper had survived the strike. And he was super charged after that. His blasts were ten times more powerful than before.

  So that's why she wanted to get struck by lightning—to get super charged.

  She was just going to hang out by that oak tree until the storm came. As if it were the easiest thing in the world to get struck by lightning—and survive.

  Now I had a couple of choices. I could have gone home and told Mom that Chloe was fine, that she'd be home in a bit (after she did her little get-hit-by-lightning thing). Or I could try to talk my sister out of it.

  Because I'm a good guy, I did the second thing. I asked her why she wanted to be super charged. I actually complimented her blasts, which are pretty strong already.

  I guess saying something nice to her helped. All of a sudden she was talking to me like we were BFFs. She told me she was tired of dealing with Bones, that she was going to blast him and his sorry skeleton gang sky high. As soon as she was super charged, that is.

  I couldn't believe it. My sister was going to risk her life just to get back at that bony bully? I thought that was crazy, and I told her so.

  I said she just had to practice some self-control and not let Bones get to her. I even suggested she try some chanting. I don't know why I threw in that last part. Maybe I just wanted to sound like I knew what I was talking about.

  Anyway, that was NOT the advice Chloe wanted to hear. She turned into Evil Twin again and said that I was a freak pacifist creeper who would never understand. I thought she was going to blow up right then and there. But she did something even worse. She started to cry.

  I have never, ever, ever seen Chloe cry. Wait, maybe I did once when we were little and someone thought she was me.

  Being confused for a boy kind of rubbed her the wrong way. But since then? Dry eyes—all the time.

>   So this crying Chloe really threw me for a loop. What was I supposed to do?

  I heard thunder overhead, and then I saw that we were standing under the tallest tree on the hill. I guess Chloe knew what she was doing when she picked this one. Lightning could have struck at any second, so I told her we had to go home. NOW.

  I couldn't believe she was risking her life AND mine because of a stupid skeleton with a big mouth! She stared at me for what felt like ages. Then she finally ran away toward home. I think she was still crying.

  When I started to run after her, I saw that we weren't alone. There, leaning against a tree in the spider riding field, was Eddy Enderman.

  I almost looked away. That's what I'm supposed to do, I know. Those are the rules. But right that second, with my sister all upset because of Bones the Bully, I didn't care about the rules. So I looked at that Enderman—RIGHT IN THE EYES.