Free The Rottenest Angel by R.L. Stine Page A

flashed me a warm smile, his blue eyes twinkling.
    â€œWho—who ARE you?” I stammered.
    â€œI’m Angel Goodeboy,” he said.
    â€œNo. Really,” I said. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my room?”

Chapter 2
A B AD A LLERGY
    The boy pulled a sweater from his suitcase and carefully folded it. He flashed me another smile. “I’m Angel Goodeboy,” he said again. He walked over and shook my hand.
    What was up with this guy? I stared at him. I’d never met a kid who shook hands before!
    â€œWell, I’m sorry, dude,” I said. “But you’re in the wrong room. I’m Bernie Bridges. This is my room.”
    His cheeks turned bright red. He really did look like an angel. He just needed a halo, and he’d be perfect.
    â€œI’m in the wrong room?” he gasped. “Oh, my gosh and goodness! I’m so sorry. Mrs. Heinie showed me in here.”
    â€œI guess Mrs. Heinie didn’t clean her glasses this morning,” I said.
    Mrs. Heinie is our fourth-grade teacher and dorm mother. She is so nearsighted, she can’t find her nose without a map!
    â€œShe made a mistake,” I said. “Let me help you get packed up again.”
    â€œOh, my gosh and goodness! I’m so, so, so sorry,” he said. “I hope you will forgive me.”
    â€œNo problem,” I said. “Just pack up your stuff. Maybe you could share the room across the hall with Feenman, Crench, and Belzer. There’s plenty of room over there.”
    I heard footsteps in the hall, then a voice in the doorway. “Oh. Have you two boys met?” I turned to see Mrs. Heinie peering at us through her thick glasses.
    I flashed her my best smile. “Mrs. Heinie, you’re looking wonderful!” I said. “That red bracelet on your arm—is it new? Very pretty!”
    â€œI’m not wearing a red bracelet,” she said. “I have a skin rash.”
    â€œWell, it looks very nice on you,” I said. “I’m just helping the new kid pack up. He’s in the wrong room.”
    Angel clasped his chubby little hands together. “I’m so, so, so, so sorry,” he said. “I don’t want to crowd Bernie’s space.”
    Mrs. Heinie made a choking sound. “He’s in the right room, Bernie. You’ll just have to learn to share .”
    â€œBut—but—but—” I sputtered.
    I pulled Mrs. H. into the hall. “You know I can’t have a roommate,” I whispered to her. “I brought a doctor’s note. I’m allergic.”
    I sneezed as hard as I could.
    Mrs. Heinie wiped off the front of her sweater.
    â€œSee?” I said. “That Angel kid is making me sneeze already!”
    I grabbed my neck. “My throat—it’s closing up,” I whispered. “Hard to breathe. I’m allergic to roommates. You understand, right?”
    Mrs. Heinie stepped back into the room. Angelwas waiting patiently, hands in his khaki pockets.
    â€œAngel is staying,” Mrs. H. said. “I put him in here, Bernie, because I hope a little bit of his goodness will rub off on you!”
    Angel’s eyes twinkled again. I’m not sure how he made them twinkle like that. He flashed us another angelic smile.
    â€œMrs. H., please—” I begged. “I’m allergic to that smile! Look. It’s making me ITCH all over!” I started scratching my whole body.
    Mrs. Heinie scowled at me. “I don’t want any trouble from you,” she growled. “And don’t try to teach him any of your sneaky tricks. He’s a good boy, and he’d better stay that way!”
    Angel’s little red mouth formed a pout. “Oh, my gosh and goodness. I’m sorry if you don’t want me, Bernie,” he said in a soft, sad voice. “I’ll stay out of your way. I’ll stay in that corner over there.” He pointed.
    â€œTell you what,” he said.