Free The Ghost in Room 11 by Betty Ren Wright Page A

insisted. “This is an old school, and it’s haunted. Ask the teachers. Ask Mr. Beasley.”
    Mr. Beasley was the principal. Matt had met him on his first day at Healy. He’d told Matt that the governor of the state and the mayor of Healy had been students at Healy Elementary. He’d talked about hard work and no shoving in the halls. He hadn’t said a word about ghosts.
    â€œOr if you’re scared to ask Mr. Beasley,” Charlie went on, “you can find out for yourself.”
    â€œHow?” Matt asked, not really wanting to know.
    â€œHide in the school till everybody leaves. See what happens.”
    Matt wished he’d gone home instead of hanging around the playground. Being alone in a new house was no fun, but talking to Charlie was even worse.
    â€œWhy would I want to be stuck in school all night?” he said nervously. “My folks would call the police.”
    â€œYou wouldn’t be stuck,” Charlie argued. “You can always open the front door from the inside.”
    Matt started toward the road, walking fast. “Only stupid people believe in ghosts,” he yelled over his shoulder. “Ghosts are stupid!”
    He felt better after that, but only for a minute. Then he realized he’d left his library book next to the swing. He whirled around, but Charlie already had the book in his hand.
    â€œForget something?” he teased.
    Matt grabbed it and ran across the playground with Fifteen Famous Ghost Stories clutched in his hand. He tried not to hear the laughter that followed him.
    Just wait , he thought, but he didn’t know what he meant. He only knew that moving to Healy was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

2
    A Bunch of Lies
    â€œSo how is it going at school?” Matt’s dad asked that evening. “Are you making friends?”
    Matt shrugged. “It’s okay.” He kept his eyes on the television and hoped his mother wasn’t listening. She could tell when he was hiding something.
    â€œIf people aren’t friendly, it may be your own fault,” she called now, from the kitchen. “Try hard, Matthew. Smile. You have a very nice smile.”
    Matt sank deeper in his chair. Could his mother read other people’s minds the way she read his?
    Luckily, his dad couldn’t read minds at all. “Well, I’m glad you’re off to a good start,” he said. “Healy is a fine place to grow up in.” He switched channels, but Matt didn’t care. The sooner they stopped talking about school the better. No one else knew what it was like, being the new kid.
    The next morning the Barbers left the house together. His parents drove to the bus station, and Matt walked down the road toward the school. When he was close enough to hear voices from the playground, he sat under a tree.
    Big-mouth Charlie , he thought. After today things would be different. After his speech, everyone in the class would know Matt Barber was special.
    He stayed under the tree until he heard the warning bell. Then he ran, leaning forward with his arms spread like Superman. He reached the school door just in time to file in with the rest of the fourth grade.
    Matt’s seat was in the back row, which could be either good or bad. It was good because most of the time Mrs. Sanders seemed to forget he was there. It was bad when she remembered. Today it was very bad, because the first thing she did was return yesterday’s spelling tests.
    â€œYou and I are going to have to do some hard work, Matthew,” she said. “I almost wore out my pencil on this one.” She laid the test on Matt’s desk. There were fifteen words on the list, and twelve of them had checks next to them. Some kids giggled.
    â€œDon’t you dare laugh,” Mrs. Sanders said sternly. “There wasn’t a perfect paper in the whole class. I’m ashamed of all of you! Your homework tonight will be to write each misspelled