17 - Why I'm Afraid of Bees by R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead) Page B

frowning. “Try not to destroy the furniture, okay? I
was just about to make myself a sandwich. Would you like one?”
    “I guess so,” I muttered, sitting down at the table.
    “Would you like the usual?”
    I nodded. “The usual” was peanut butter and jelly, which I never get tired
of. For a snack, I usually like taco chips, the spicier the better. As I waited
for my sandwich, I ripped open a new bag of chips and started chewing away.
    “Uh-oh.” Mom was rummaging through the refrigerator. “I’m afraid we’re out of
jelly. Guess we’ll have to use something else.”
    She pulled out a small glass jar. “How about this with your peanut butter?”
    “What is it?” I asked.
    “Honey.”
    “Honey!” I shrieked. “No way!”
     
    Later, I was feeling lonely. I wandered over to the school playground. As I
walked by the swing set, I saw a bunch of kids I knew from school.
    They were standing around on the softball diamond, choosing up sides for a
game. I joined them. Maybe, just maybe, they’d let me play.
    “Gail and I are captains,” a boy named Louie was saying.
    I walked over and stood at the edge of the group. I was just in time.
    One by one, Louie and Gail picked players for their teams. Every kid was
chosen. Every kid except one, that is. I was left standing by myself next to home plate.
    As I slumped my shoulders and stared down at the ground, the captains
starting fighting over me. “You take him, Gail,” Louie said.
    “No. You take him.”
    “No fair. I always get stuck with Lutz!”
    As the two captains argued over who was going to be stuck with me, I could
feel my face getting redder and redder. I wanted to leave. But then they all
would have said I was a quitter.
    Finally, Gail sighed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, all right,” she said. “We’ll
take him. But remember the special Lutz rule. He gets four strikes before
he’s out!”
    I swallowed hard and followed my teammates out onto the diamond. At that
point, luck was with me. Gail sent me to the outfield.
    “Go way out in right, Lutz,” Gail ordered. “By the back fence. Nobody ever
hits it out there.”
    Some kids might be angry about being stuck so far away from the action. But I
was grateful. If no balls were hit to me, I wouldn’t have a chance to drop them
the way I always did.
    As I watched the game, my stomach slowly tied itself into a tight knot. I was
last in the batting order. But when my turn at the plate finally came around,
the bases were loaded.
    I picked up the bat and wandered out toward the plate. A groan rose up from my teammates. “Lutz is up?” somebody cried in
disbelief.
    “Easy out!” yelled the girl playing first base. “No batter, no batter, no
batter!” Everyone on the other team hooted and laughed. Out of the corner of my
eye I saw Gail put her face in her hands.
    I ground my teeth together and started praying. Please let me get a walk.
Please let me get a walk. I knew I could never hit the ball. So a walk was my
one and only hope.
    Of course I struck out.
    Four straight strikes.
    “Lutz the Klutz!” I heard someone cry. Then a lot of kids laughed.
    Without looking back, I marched off the baseball diamond and away from the
playground. I was heading home toward the peace and quiet of my own room. It
might not be perfect, I thought. But at least at home no one teased me about
being a klutz.
    “Hey, look, guys!” a voice shouted as I turned onto my street.
    “Hey—wow—it’s Lutz the Klutz!” someone else answered.
    “Lookin’ good, dude!”
    I couldn’t believe my bad luck. The three voices belonged to the biggest,
meanest, toughest creeps in the entire neighborhood—Barry, Marv, and Karl. They’re my age, but at least five times as big!
    These guys are gorillas! I mean, their knuckles drag on the sidewalk!
    And when they’re not swinging back and forth on a tire swing in their gorilla
cage, what’s their favorite activity?
    You guessed it. Beating me up!
    “Give me a