Free Middle School: My Brother Is a Big, Fat Liar by James Patterson Page A

the tub, and let out a huge “Bluurrggh!”
    I fake-barfed warm rice pudding all over Missy. The moment it glopped down the side of her head, she screeched like a cat in heat. Like a cat in heat that’s just been puked on
while peeing
.
    “BLUURRGGH!!!” I upped the volume of my retching noises.
    The other Princesses rushed to help, but the door was locked and Missy was blinded by pudding, so they fumbled around while I just calmly walked out of there as if nothing had happened. My only regret was that I didn’t actually get to see Missy, but I had a heck of a great time imagining it.
    Mom was right—revenge tastes best when you add a little extra nutmeg.

A Visit with the Lizard King
    I was only in homeroom for about five seconds when the school secretary appeared and handed a note to Mr. Grank. When he read it, his head snapped up. “Rafe’s SISTER,” he announced, “the Lizard King has called you to the Pit of Torment.”

    “Hmm.” I kicked the giant pudding tub behind my desk. “Okay.” I followed the school secretary down the hall to the principal’s office.
    A cricket chirped as I slid into the chair across from the Lizard King, Mr. Dwight. My flesh crawled as his long tongue shot out and his teeth crunched. The room went silent.
    Poor cricket.
    “I hear you’re following in your brother’s footsteps, Ms. Khatchadorian,” the Lizard King hissed. “Why don’t you tell me about this pudding incident?”
    “Pudding?” I repeated, as if I had no idea what he was talking about. I was doing my very best
whatever-are-you-talking-about-my-good-sir?
face, with my hands clasped under my chin. It’s a proven innocence stance.
    Heh-heh-heh.
A chuckle from a giant lizard is a scary sound. The Lizard King stretched out a scaly hand and tapped his claws on the arm of his throne. “Come now, Ms. Khatchadorian,” he said. “Someone poured a pot of pudding on Missy Trillin, and you are the prime suspect.”

    Please note: I didn’t even lie!
    But there was something in the Lizard King’s golden gaze that told me he wasn’t buying it. I bit my lip and smiled nervously. I wished he would ask me a question or something, just so I wouldn’t have to sit there in silence until one of us died.
    At that moment, there was a knock at the door. Before the Lizard King could even shout, “Come in,” my defense attorney strolled in. Well, I guess he was supposed to be my defense attorney.
    It was Rafe.

This Deserves Two Chapters
    Y ou’re pinning this on the wrong girl,” my brother said. Rafe plopped a briefcase on the Lizard King’s desk, and a pile of papers spilled out. Rafe picked one up. “Exhibit A.”
    “What’s this?” The Lizard King frowned at the paper.
    “Her report card from last year.” Rafe held out another paper. “Here’s the one from the year before that. And the one from the year before. As you can see, the grades are straight A’s.”
    The Lizard King eyed the papers and suddenly let out a stream of fire from his mouth that turnedmy report cards into ash. But Rafe just went on with his speech.
    “Georgia also got 1s in effort, which—honestly—is a little obnoxious. I mean, who tries that hard in study hall?”
    “If you’re trying to make a point, Mr. Khatchadorian, I suggest you do it soon,” the Lizard King told him. “I’m getting hungry.”
    “Um… right. My point is,” Rafe said, “that Georgia was a model student until she came to Hills Village Middle School. And that’s my fault.”
    “Rafe?” I was so surprised, I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
    My brother turned to face me. “I’m sorry, Georgia,” he said. “I know everyone thinks you’re guilty because I pulled so many pranks here. But”—he turned back to face the Lizard King—“Georgia is not
me
. Not even close.”
    There was a long stretch of silence like a curving road leading who knows where. I stared at the Lizard King. He stared back at me. “Do you have anything to add?”