Free Ghost Detectors Volume 1 by Dotti Enderle Page A

smeared on her muffin.
    His dad just grunted. Malcolm guessed he hadn’t had a chance at the bathroom either.
    â€œAnd it’s already the first day of school,” Mom continued.
    â€œPlease, don’t remind me,” Malcolm said, sipping some juice.
    Mom sniffed the air. “It even smells like the first day. I can smell the newly sharpened pencils, chalk dust, and Big Chief tablets.”
    â€œWhat are Big Chief tablets?”
    â€œThat’s what we used when your dad and I were little. Right, dear?” she said to Dad.
    Dad grunted again. He never looked up from staring at his coffee.
    The bathroom door flew open, rattling the entire house. “MOM!” Cocoa shrieked.
    She stood in the doorway, wearing a violet shirt, purple skirt, plum-colored hoop earrings, and lavender tie-dyed sneakers. The indigo tint of her nail polish, eye shadow, and lip gloss looked like something from the “undead” cosmetic line.
    Cocoa reminded Malcolm of an enormous grape. If she stood there for about 40 years, she could pass for a California raisin.
    â€œMom!” she whined this time. “Look!” She held out her shirt and pointed near the hem.
    â€œWhat is it, sweetie?” Mom asked.
    â€œLook!” Cocoa said again.
    Mom squinted. “Look at what?”
    Cocoa moved closer. “This!”
    Mom squinted more. “I don’t see anything.”
    â€œOf course not! The rhinestone heart fell off!” Cocoa drooped and sobbed like she just flunkedhistory or something. Tears gushed down her cheeks. Malcolm didn’t see what the big deal was, but that was a girl for you.
    â€œNo one will notice,” Mom assured her soothingly.
    â€œThat’s what I’m afraid of!” Cocoa stomped her foot. “No one will notice this awesome outfit.”
    Malcolm didn’t know about awesome. But now that Cocoa was no longer blocking the doorway, he saw his chance at the bathroom. Before he could move a muscle, Cocoa whipped around.
    â€œNow I have to rethink the whole thing. I must look perfect for the first day!” she yelled. She clomped back to the bathroom, slamming the door.
    â€œHey!” Malcolm called. “Your clothes are in your bedroom!”
    â€œBut crying smeared my makeup, dufus. I have to redo it!”
    For once Malcolm looked forward to his first day of school—just so he could use the boys’ room!

CHAPTER THREE
SLOW RIDE

    T he back of the school bus was indeed the bumpiest part. Malcolm wondered if the bus driver, Mr. Mullins, actually aimed for every pothole in the road. The boys were trapped in the far corner amid a crowd of chattering students.
    Dandy yawned. “It’s bumpy and hot back here. It’s not as great as I thought it would be.”
    â€œNo kidding,” Malcolm said. He tried pulling down a window, but no amount of tugging would free it.
    Malcolm gave up and slumped down in his seat. But then he remembered something important. He reached into his backpack and pulled out his digital camera.
    â€œWhat’s that for?” Dandy asked. Sweat beads had formed on his nose like teeny raindrops.
    â€œPictures,” Malcolm answered. “This year we’re part of the yearbook staff, remember?”
    Malcolm hadn’t really wanted to be on the yearbook staff, but he was talked into it because they needed a photographer.
    At first he’d resisted, but then he imagined all the cool things he could do with the photos. There was no limit to the fancy photo effects he could dream up.
    He was already planning to swap the principal’s head with the school mascot, a hornet. And he may even add bubbles to the noses of the student council. Malcolm was set to make this year’s Waxberry Elementary yearbook the best ever.
    Dandy scratched his nose, smearing the dirty sweat. “I don’t know how to put together a yearbook.”
    â€œIt’s not hard. Remember when we were in kindergarten, and