Free Moving Day by Meg Cabot Page A

everyone to play was cheerleader (teaching anyone who would listen cheers she had learned from her big sister Becca).
    We played queens until the bell rang, which happened before we even got to launch the catapult full of the heads of the warlord’s army, which we had cut off with our pretend scimitars.
    “Awww,” Erica said. “I can’t believe we have to go in. That was fun. Are you staying for lunch, Allie?”
    “No,” I said. Because I could see my parents and Mark and Kevin standing by one of the side doors, looking around for me. “I think I have to go.”
    “Well, I hope you’re going to be in our class,” Caroline said.
    “Yeah,” Sophie said. “I hope you don’t get stuck in boring Danielson’s class. That would stink!”
    “That would stink,” I said, thinking of the thought bubbles. I was kind of shocked, but I was starting to find myself getting excited by the idea of going to Pine Heights.
    Which was crazy! I didn’t want to move! Zombie hand! Horrible dark bedroom!
    “Well, it was nice to meet you guys,” I said, just as Mom and Dad spotted me and started waving like crazy like they thought there was a chance I might miss them or something, which wasn’t likely since they were the tallest people on the playground, outside of the teachers. “But I better go.”
    “Bye, Allie!” Sophie called as she went to join the line to go back into the school.
    “Yeah, see you later, Allie,” Caroline said.
    “Bye, Allie! See you on our street!” Erica called, hurrying off with her friends.
    I went over to join my family instead of all the kids filing back into school. It was weird, though. I didn’t really want to.
    “Well,” Mom said, looking pleased. “I see you made some new friends.”
    “Yes,” I said. “They’re in Erica’s class with Mrs. Hunter.”
    “And what did you think of Mrs. Hunter?” Dad wanted to know.
    I started to say that I thought Mrs. Hunter was the nicest, prettiest teacher in the whole world—nicer even than Ms. Myers. But fortunately, Mark cut me off.
    “ My new teacher,” he said, “is so cool. Mr. Manx? He has seven newts in a terrarium in class—well, there used to be eight, but one got eaten by the others. Anyway, he let me feed them. Newts eat anything that moves that can fit in their mouths. I fed them a cricket—”
    “That is disgusting,” I burst out, glad for the distraction from how much I liked this school. “The poor cricket!”
    “It’s the circle of life,” Mark said matter-of-factly. “The newts eat the cricket and then poop him out and then the poop becomes fertilizer and then—”
    “Kevin,” Mom said quickly, “what did you think of your class?”
    “Not much,” Kevin said. We had started walking home by then. Home? I mean, to the new house. “That school isn’t very fancy.”
    “You only like things if they’re fancy,” Mark said disgustedly.
    “It may not be as new as your school in Walnut Knolls,” Dad said, “but it’s a very good school.”
    “But it smells old,” Kevin complained. “And it looks old.”
    Right as Kevin said this, our new house loomed into view, with its dark windows and creepy trees with their black branches scraping against the sky.
    And I realized Kevin was right. He may only have been five, but he’d reminded me of something important. That just because I’d liked Mrs. Hunter and Erica’s friends didn’t mean I wanted to move. I couldn’t move. I wasn’t ready to give up my old friends and my old school and my old house. Not to move into a new house that was falling down so badly they wouldn’t have even let it on Please Fix Up My House. That was also, by the way, haunted. No way!
    “I don’t think we can get as good an education at Pine Heights as we can in Walnut Knolls,” I said.
    “Allie!” Mom cried. “Don’t be ridiculous! Of course you can! How can you even say that?”
    Because of the zombie hand, I wanted to say.
    And I knew I had to forget about Mrs. Hunter and