Free Superheroes Don't Eat Veggie Burgers by Gretchen Kelley

everywhere,” she says, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “Dad texted and said he’s going to be here any minute, and he’s got a van full of veggie burgers that need to be dropped off before dinner.”
    I have to practically run to keep up with her.
    â€œBut I’ve got to find—”
    â€œCome on , Charlie.”
    We get to the main entrance, and Stella pushes the double doors open. The air is heavy with the smell of salt and seaweed. I scan the crowd of kids waiting for their rides to show up. Still no Franki.
    I hear a quick honk as the old blue van pulls around the corner, my dad’s arm waving out the window.
    â€œHey, guys,” he calls out. “How was the—” He stops when he sees me. “What’s wrong with you ? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
    Stella jumps into the front seat, waving at a few of her friends. I slide into the back as my dad turns to get a better look at me.
    â€œEverything okay?”
    I nod, staring out the window.
    â€œOh, don’t worry about him, Dad,” Stella says, answering for me. “The first school festival can be a bit … overwhelming for a sixth grader.”

 
    CHAPTER
    13
    I wake up in the middle of the night, my room so black, I can’t tell if my eyelids are open or closed.
    I toss and turn, but all I can think about is the journal.
    Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. I kick off the blankets and climb out of bed. The floorboards creak as I tiptoe across the room and flip on my desk lamp.
    It sits smack-dab in the middle of a pile of papers, the soft leather cover practically glowing under the warm light.
    As soon as I touch it, the prickling starts. It zips through my fingers and up the inside of my arm.
    Calm down, I tell myself. This isn’t what you think. Stuff like this only happens in Hollywood movies and science-fiction books.
    I flip to the last entry, the one I wrote about Bloogfer.
    I squint at the words, but all I can think about are the ones Mr. P said to me in the gym.
    I didn’t find it.… It found you.
    I flip back another page and try to read the one about the Imbecile, but again, it’s no use. Mr. P’s voice is still in my head.
    It’s a special journal, pardner.
    Tiptoeing into the hallway, I peek around the corner and into Lucy’s room. The pink polka-dotted night-light gives the room a rose-colored glow. Her stuffed animals are lined up across her bed, standing guard, like usual.
    Only Lucy isn’t in the bed.
    I look down. There, in the middle of the rug, my sister sleeps curled up in a ball. Her leg twitches, like she’s chasing something in her sleep.
    I hurry back to my room. The magnolia tree outside my window sways in the wind, its branches tap-tapping on my windowsill. I grab my jeans off the floor and dig into the back pocket, finding Pickles’s note again.
    WORDS CAN BE POWERFUL. BELIEVE IN THEIR MAGIC AND ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN.
    Pickles said the answers wouldn’t be as obvious as they seem. But I think I know someone who can at least help me start figuring out the questions.

 
    CHAPTER
    14
    Monday morning, I hightail it to school before anyone’s awake. The sun is just starting to peek above Gatehouse as I run across the street and then the courtyard. I take the steps two at a time and try the double doors, but they are still locked. Even the janitors aren’t here yet.
    I lean against the cold brick wall and watch the colors in the sky change as the sun climbs higher. A lonesome seagull cries out overhead, probably feeling ripped off now that all the tourists have left.
    I stuff my hands into my pockets and exhale, my breath coming out in puffs. Normally, I would never be at school this early, but I’ve got to talk to Mr. P before first period. Maybe he can help me figure out if there’s some connection between the things I’m writing in my journal and the things that are happening