Goosebumps Most Wanted - 02 - Son of Slappy by R.L. Stine

And then she turned to me.
    “Jackson?” she called.
    My breath caught in my throat.
    Oh, no. Caught.

“Jackson?” she repeated.
    I lowered my eyes to my backpack. Maybe I can tell her I picked up the test by accident.
    “Jackson, I understand you had a very scary experience in the art room,” Miss Hathaway said.
    “Uh … yeah,” I murmured.
    “Are you feeling okay? If you’d like to go take a short rest in the nurse’s office …”
    I let out a long breath. She didn’t see me take the test.
    “No, I’m fine,” I said. “Just a little shaky. But I’m okay.”
    Everyone was looking at me now. “I’ll probably have nightmares about dogs tonight,” I said. “Dogs with big paintbrushes.”
    It was a lame joke, but a few kids laughed.
    Miss Hathaway smiled — but her expression suddenly changed. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open. She was staring at the spot where the History test had rested.
    “Uh-oh,” she said. “Uh-oh.” She jumped to her feet. Her face turned bright red. She drummed the desk with her fingers.
    “The History test for tomorrow seems to be missing,” she said through clenched teeth. I could see she was trying to stay calm. But she was angry and upset and couldn’t hide it.
    Her eyes swept the room. She was going from face to face.
    “I’m sure someone picked it up by accident,” she said. “If you’d like to return it now, I won’t say another word about it.”
    Kids mumbled and whispered.
    Across the room, I saw Stick give Miles a shove. “Go ahead, Miles. Give it back,” he said.
    Everyone turned to them. Stick tossed his hands up. “Joking!” he said. “Just joking.”
    Miles punched Stick in the ribs. “How funny was that ?”
    “That was a lame joke, Mickey,” Miss Hathaway scolded him. “This is a serious matter. Stealing a test from a teacher’s desk is serious. It’s a school crime. You can be suspended for doing this.”
    The room grew silent again.
    My head buzzed. I felt as if I were gazing through clouds.
    Miss Hathaway pressed both hands on her desk. “I’m going to ask one more time,” she said. “If you took the test, bring it up here and no questions will be asked.”
    No one moved.
    She drummed her fingernails on the desk. She turned to Clay Dobbs. Clay is like my sister, Rachel — always in trouble. There’s one in every class.
    “Clay?” Miss Hathaway said, giving him the evil eye. “Do you have something you want to tell me?”
    Clay let out a bleating sound. Like a sheep caught in a fence. “No way!” he cried. “Why are you looking at me ?”
    Miss Hathaway raised her eyes to Stick and Miles. “You boys were joking, right? You didn’t really take the test, did you, Miles?”
    Miles shook his head. “I get A’s in history,” he said. “No way I need to cheat.”
    “Then who took it? Come on. Somebody confess.” Miss Hathaway’s eyes moved slowly from face to face.
    She didn’t even glance at me. She knew Jackson Stander would never steal a test. She knew what a good, honest dude I am.
    As I watched her, I had to laugh. Ha-ha. Too bad for you losers. I’ll get an easy A tomorrow. I’ll get every single answer right.
    Whoa. Wait. I suddenly realized the kids were all staring at me. Miss Hathaway, too.
    Oh, no. They were staring at me because I was cackling at the top of my lungs.

I hurried home after school. Stick and Miles wanted to hang out. But I told them I had too much homework.
    My brain felt normal. I wanted to take care of my Slappy problem while I still felt like myself.
    I heard voices in the den, but I didn’t stop to say hi. I ran up the stairs and into my room. I closed the door behind me.
    Slappy sat on my bed, just where I’d left him that morning. He opened his eyes wide when I walked in and tilted his big head toward me.
    “How’s it going, Son?” he called in his high, tinny voice.
    “Don’t call me that!” I screamed. “Don’t ever call me son!”
    “Tell me, Son, did you get my