Free Kill Marguerite and Other Stories by Megan Milks Page A

wrap your head around it. Mr. Bowman supervises The Sweet Valley Sixers , the weekly newspaper you founded for the sixth grade. He’s a really good teacher, but he dresses terribly. When you stepped into his classroom after school to finish up an article, he was wearing a horrible striped jacket—and speaking in clicks and static into a futuristic handheld device!
    Heart thudding, you hid behind the door. Mr. Bowman had been acting odd the last few days, rarely smiling and easily losing his patience. You figured it was stress—student council elections had created a ton of extra work for The Sixers . But now it seemed clear that something else was going on. When you finally got up the nerve to sneak a look around the door, you saw Mr. Bowman reach up to his head, grab his ears, and peel off his face!
    As he stripped away the mask, you could see he had skin the color of limes. His enormous orange eyes slantedup and away from his nose. A series of muscular-looking ridges stretched from his eyes down to his lipless mouth.
    You are Elizabeth Wakefield. And your English teacher is an alien.
    Go on to the next page .

    After dinner, you head upstairs and start in on your homework unfocused, your thoughts on ‘Mr. Bowman’s’ gruesome face. Within minutes Jessica explodes like a blond bomb in the middle of your history book. “I think I need help from someone who got a four-minute head start in the world!” she sings. The two of you always joke about the fact that you’re four minutes older than Jessica. Sometimes you really feel like a big sister to your headstrong twin.
    â€œJess, come on,” you sigh. “I’m busy.”
    â€œYou said you’d help me with math,” she reminds you, her blue-green eyes pleading. “We have a test tomorrow and I still don’t get long division.”
    â€œWhat do you expect?” You shut your textbook angrily. “You’ve been copying my homework this entire unit!”
    â€œLizzie, don’t yell.” She gives you her most helpless look. “You know I was stressed out when Ms. Wyler explained it. If you’d help me out this one time, I’d never forget it for a trillion years.”
    â€œObsessing about Johnny Buck isn’t stress!” you say, referring to your sister’s rock star idol. But you can never stay annoyed at your sister for long. “I’m sorry, Jess. It’s just—I think Mr. Bowman is an alien.”
    Her eyes widen. “No way.” She sits down on your cream-colored bedspread and listens while you tell her everything: the noises, the device, the mask.
    â€œHow awful!” Jessica cries. “What do you think happened to the real Mr. Bowman? What if he’s been taken hostage?”
    â€œPoor Mr. Bowman!” you gasp. “What should we do?”
    Jessica jumps to her feet. “I have an idea!” Her blue-green eyes light up with inspiration. “If the device is thealien’s only connection to his home planet, he’ll be stuck here without it. So we’ll steal it. Then we can use it as leverage to save Mr. Bowman.”
    â€œGood thinking, Jess!” It’s moments like these when you admire your twin’s scheming mind. “But that sounds dangerous.”
    â€œIt’ll be a piece of cake. Just get someone to distract him during class tomorrow and swipe it when he’s not looking.”
    â€œI don’t know, Jess,” you say. “You know how I feel about stealing.”
    Jessica paces across the room, her sunstreaked blond ponytail bouncing up and down with each step. Suddenly she stops and twirls to face you. “I know!” she exclaims, her aquamarine eyes sparkling with excitement. “Why don’t I do it? We can switch identities during first period.”
    You chew your bottom lip. While Jessica always enjoys secrets and pranks, you dislike doing anything deceptive. “Why can’t you just wait