The Pirate's Booty (Inventor-in-Training) by D.M. Darroch

Author:D.M. Darroch [Darroch, D.M.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Sleepy Cat Press
Published: 2013-01-20T16:00:00+00:00

Feet wedged into brown leather shoes, BP shuffled down the hallway from Principal Quigley’s office. He couldn’t feel the ground beneath his feet and his toes felt pinched. An earsplitting “clang!” startled him and he grabbed his ears.

“Hurry, Angus! That’s the bell for first period!” cautioned an adult voice.

BP was quickly remembering how this worked, and he scurried into the first open door he saw and grabbed a seat. He dropped his book bag to the floor. Surprised faces gawked at him.

“Angus, you’re not in this class,” whispered a heavy-set, freckle-faced boy.

“Angus Clark, I’m thrilled that you enjoy art so much,” smiled a fresh-faced woman in a paint-splattered apron. “But I think you have Ms. Evergood this period, don’t you?”

BP grunted and stumbled to his feet, swung his bag over his shoulder, and looked around blankly.

“Second floor. Room 24,” whispered the freckled boy.

BP winked his eye and gave a quick nod to the boy. “Ye’ve got me marker, bucko.” The boy raised his eyebrows quizzically as BP swaggered from the art room.

He climbed a flight of stairs and scanned the doors for the number 24. There was 20, 22, next one, 24. He pushed open the door and entered the room. In front of him stood a clean, well-groomed, scar-free version of Maniacal Marge.

“So glad you could join us, Angus,” said Marge. “Please take your seat and pull out two pencils. I’m about to hand out the test.”

BP looked around the room, locked eyes with Billy, and walked confidently toward him.

“Your seat, Angus,” called Marge. BP stopped and turned. “Beside Ivy, please,” said Marge.

The dark-haired girl from the bus wiggled her fingers and smiled sweetly at him. He lifted his lip in a sneer and threw himself into the seat beside her.

“Pencil, Angus,” whispered Ivy. “Oh, I mean ‘Booty Poker’.” She giggled. He crossed his arms and fixed her with a hard stare. She raised her hand. “Ms. Evergood? I think Angus may need a pencil.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” sighed Ms. Evergood.

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