Homeroom Headhunters by Clay McLeod Chapman

snorted. Compass laughed along with him.
    Out of nowhere, Sully brandished a slingshot. Before Sporkboy could even blink, she’d loaded a penny, aimed, and fired.
    Bull’s-eye —right in the navel.
    â€œOwww! I was just joking.”
    â€œFor the female of the species is more deadly than the male,” Sully recited.
    â€œWho the heck said that?” Sporkboy rubbed his sore tummy.
    â€œRudyard Kipling.”
    â€œYeah, well— For a penny in the belly isn’t as painful as my fist in your face ,” he spat back. “That was me . I said that!”
    â€œEnough!” Peashooter silenced the two of them. He then turned back to me. “We’ve had our eyes on you for some time.”
    â€œWhat did I do?”
    â€œWe know you’re looking for an escape.”
    Escape?
    With all the blood in my body rushing to my skull, I was having a full-blown hallucination. Either that, or this had just become the weirdest Halloween of my life.
    â€œThe time to rise is nearly upon us.” Peashooter gnashed the teeth of his staple remover in front of my face. “Who will you stand by? Us—or the cattle you call classmates? You have been chosen to join our tribe. To become one of us! ”
    Along his left forearm, I could read DAMAGE DONE .
    This can’t be happening.
    Sporkboy lunged forward, and I flinched, thinking he was about to bludgeon me with his sock cudgel again, but Peashooter held out his hand, halting him.
    â€œEnough.”
    â€œCome on,” Sporkboy whined. “Let me just have a little fun with him.…”
    Peashooter leaned into my face.
    â€œWe can do anything we want here.” He grinned. “This is our home.”
    Sully leaned over, whispering, “It can be your home too.”
    â€œThink about it,” Peashooter said. “We’ll be back for you.”
    â€œWhen?”
    â€œSoon.”
    Peashooter stuffed the sock into my mouth before it even dawned on me to ask him to cut me down.
    â€¢ • •
    Mr. Simms wheeled his mop and bucket into the gym. I could hear his key chain rattling at his hip ahead of seeing him.
    â€œWhat the—?” he started.
    â€œ Mmm-mff mmff-mmm! ”
    Rough translation: Get me down from here before my head pops like a tick fattened up on too much blood!
    â€œWhat’s going on here?” he asked, tugging the sock from my mouth.
    â€œKeep it down!” I gasped. “They’re watching.…”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” Mr. Simms pulled out his pocketknife and started sawing through the jump rope around my torso. “Who did this?”
    â€œHeadhunters!”
    â€œHead— what? ”
    Done with the first rope, he started on the one suspended from the basketball rim and soon sent me splatting against the gymnasium floor.
    Ouch! My body felt like a slab of beef after a few hours with a meat tenderizer.
    â€œYou’ve got to believe me,” I said, slowly regaining my equilibrium. “Somewhere in this school there’s a tribe of teenage headhunters!”
    Mr. Simms gave me a look I was a little too familiar with. He wasn’t buying a word of what I’d said.
    â€œHeadhunters? In…school?”
    â€œYes! Well. Sort of.”
    Mr. Simms didn’t say anything for a long time.
    â€œYou don’t believe me?” I said.
    â€œWould you?”
    He had a point.
    â€¢ • •
    Mom hugged me so tight, I think she may have broken a couple of my ribs. Tears ran down her cheeks. I don’t think she’d ever been this happy to see me before.
    Then she gripped my shoulders and shook me until whiplash was inevitable. Fury flashed through her face, eclipsing her relief. “ Spencer Austin Pendleton! ”
    You know you’re in big trouble when your mother pulls out your middle name.
    â€œI called the police. I had no idea what had happened to you—”
    â€œI’m sorry,