Dudes, the School Is Haunted! by R. L. Stine Page B

do?” I stammered.

 
 
2
     
     
    I pressed my back tight against the wall. “What are you going to do?” I
repeated.
    “I’m going to walk home—if you’ll ever let me!” she growled. She
spun away, her hands squeezed into big fists.
    “I said I was sorry!” I called after her.
    She vanished up the stairs without turning back.
    Those weird gray eyes stayed in my mind.
    I gave her time to leave the building. Then I started up the stairs.
    It was a long climb to the top floor. My legs still felt a little shaky from
running into that strange girl. And it was kind of eerie, being the only person
up here.
    My shoes thudded on the hard steps, and the sound thundered in the empty
stairwell. The halls stretched out like long, dark tunnels.
    I was out of breath when I finally reached the landing on the third floor. I
started down the hall, humming to myself. My voice sounded hollow in the empty hall. It echoed off
the long row of gray lockers.
    I stopped humming as I made my first right turn. I passed an empty teachers’
lounge. A computer lab. Then some rooms that looked empty.
    Another right turn took me into a narrow hall with wooden floors that creaked
and groaned under my shoes.
    I stopped outside the room at the end of the hall. A small hand-lettered sign
beside the door read ART ROOM.
    I grabbed the doorknob and started to pull open the door.
    But I stopped when I heard voices inside the room.
    Startled, I gripped the doorknob and listened. I heard a boy and a girl. They
were talking softly. I couldn’t make out their words. But the kids sounded like
Thalia and Ben.
    What are they doing up here? I wondered.
    Why did they follow me? How did they get up here before I did?
    I pushed open the door and stepped inside. “Hey, guys—” I called. “What’s
going on?”
    My mouth dropped open. The room was empty.
    “Hey—” I called. “Are you guys in here?”
    No reply.
    My eyes darted around the big room. Golden afternoon sunlight poured in
through the windows.
    The long art tables stood clean and empty. Some clay pots were drying on the
window ledge. A mobile made of wire hangers and soup cans hung from the ceiling
light.
    Weird, I thought, shaking my head. I heard voices in here. I know I did.
    Are Thalia and Ben playing a little joke on me? I wondered. Are they hiding
up here?
    I made my way quickly to the big supply closet and pulled open the door.
“Caught you!” I cried.
    No. No one in there.
    I stared into the dark closet. Am I starting to hear voices? I wondered.
Maybe my fall off the ladder was worse than I’d thought!
    I reached up and pulled the chain to turn on the closet light. On both sides
of me, shelves of art supplies reached to the ceiling. I spotted the red paint
we needed and started to slide a few cans off the shelf.
    But I stopped when I heard a girl laugh.
    Then a boy said something. He sounded excited. He was talking rapidly. But I
couldn’t make out the words.
    I spun back to the art room. No one there.
    “Hey—where are you?” I called.
    Silence now.
    I pulled a paint can off the shelf and tucked it under my arm. Then I grabbed
another can with my free hand.
    “Hey—!” I called out when I heard the voices again.
    “This isn’t funny!” I cried. “Where are you hiding?”
    No reply.
    They must be in the next room, I decided. I carried the paint cans out into
the art room and set them down on the teacher’s desk. Then I crept into the
hall.
    I stopped at the next door and poked my head into the room. It was some kind
of storage room. Boxes marked fragile were stacked against one wall.
    No one there.
    I checked the room across the hall. No one there, either.
    As I walked back to the art room, I heard the voices again.
    The girl was shouting now. And then the boy shouted too.
    It sounded as if they were calling for help. But for some reason their voices
seemed muffled, kind of far away.
    My heart started to beat a little faster. My throat suddenly felt