look.
Then we were moving again, running through the burning convention hall toward the exits.
9
Don’t believe everything you read .
A t school the rumors about Sophie Smith had only gotten crazier over the weekend. Now the Cafeteria Girls were saying that she was a recluse with obsessive-compulsive disorder.
“That’s why she doesn’t have any friends,” said one of them.
I thought about pointing out that maybe Sophie might not have any friends because she’d been at Sheepsdale Middle School for only a total of one and a half days, but kept my mouth shut because (a) the Cafeteria Girls didn’t actually know that I existed, and (b) I was worriedwhat kind of things they’d say about me if they ever found out that I
did
exist.
“Not to mention her dad’s a complete psycho,” one of the girls said. “I heard there’s a room in his house that’s filled with torture devices.”
The entire table gasped.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. There are, like, all these high-tech machines with sharp points and crazy-looking straps. Really painful-looking stuff.”
“But … why would he need torture devices?”
“Because he tortures people. Duh!”
The girls went silent at the thought of this. It was without a doubt the longest period of silence in the history of the Cafeteria Girls, and it was only interrupted when the bell rang.
“Can you believe that?” Milton said once we’d left the cafeteria. “Sophie’s dad must be insane!”
I stopped walking outside the doorway to the debate hall and looked back at Milton.
“Have you ever thought that some of the stuff we hear about people at this school is made up?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, those girls aren’t always reliable.”
“Maybe, but …” Milton unzipped his backpack and reached inside. “Wait till you see
this
.”
Milton pulled out a magazine. The title stretched across the top section of the cover:
SUPER SCOOP
I’d seen it in supermarkets, always full of gossip about celebrity superheroes and supervillains. According to my parents,
Super Scoop
was a trashy tabloid that made the Cafeteria Girls look like a professional fact-checking department. Maybe that was why it was so popular.
On the cover of this week’s issue was a photograph of Captain Justice. Beside the photo was a block of bold text:
CAPTAIN CAUGHT CANOODLING!
Captain Justice was standing next to a tall, slender woman with fiery red hair and a matching cape. She was wearing sunglasses and holding a coffee cup. They looked to be frozen in a moment of laughter at something one of them had just said, obviously unaware that they were being photographed.
“That’s Scarlett Flame!” Milton said, pointing at the red-haired woman. “She’s the one who fought the Abominator on the roof of the Empire State Building. There’s tons of cool stuff in here!”
My mom had a different opinion about
Super Scoop
. “Trashy magazines like that give us all a bad reputation,”she had whispered to me the last time we’d passed an issue in the checkout line at the grocery store. I’d wanted to point out that trying to destroy the world probably didn’t do much for their rep either.
Mom had probably still been upset about the cover story from a few months earlier entitled, “The Botanist: Is She Getting TOO Close to Her Zombies?” This had been accompanied by a photo of Mom supposedly kissing one of her zombies. Actually, the zombie had been trying to bite her ear off, but the magazine hadn’t mentioned that.
“It’s not even real journalism,” Mom had complained. “It’s just
lies
. Who buys this junk?”
“My mom subscribes,” Milton said now, grinning. “I always look through the new issues when they show up at our house.”
He flipped excitedly through the magazine’s pages.
“Here’s an article about this Mexican supervillain, El Diablo Gigantico, who’s supposedly trying to make it big in America now. And this kid nFinity—he’s only
Then we were moving again, running through the burning convention hall toward the exits.
9
Don’t believe everything you read .
A t school the rumors about Sophie Smith had only gotten crazier over the weekend. Now the Cafeteria Girls were saying that she was a recluse with obsessive-compulsive disorder.
“That’s why she doesn’t have any friends,” said one of them.
I thought about pointing out that maybe Sophie might not have any friends because she’d been at Sheepsdale Middle School for only a total of one and a half days, but kept my mouth shut because (a) the Cafeteria Girls didn’t actually know that I existed, and (b) I was worriedwhat kind of things they’d say about me if they ever found out that I
did
exist.
“Not to mention her dad’s a complete psycho,” one of the girls said. “I heard there’s a room in his house that’s filled with torture devices.”
The entire table gasped.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. There are, like, all these high-tech machines with sharp points and crazy-looking straps. Really painful-looking stuff.”
“But … why would he need torture devices?”
“Because he tortures people. Duh!”
The girls went silent at the thought of this. It was without a doubt the longest period of silence in the history of the Cafeteria Girls, and it was only interrupted when the bell rang.
“Can you believe that?” Milton said once we’d left the cafeteria. “Sophie’s dad must be insane!”
I stopped walking outside the doorway to the debate hall and looked back at Milton.
“Have you ever thought that some of the stuff we hear about people at this school is made up?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, those girls aren’t always reliable.”
“Maybe, but …” Milton unzipped his backpack and reached inside. “Wait till you see
this
.”
Milton pulled out a magazine. The title stretched across the top section of the cover:
SUPER SCOOP
I’d seen it in supermarkets, always full of gossip about celebrity superheroes and supervillains. According to my parents,
Super Scoop
was a trashy tabloid that made the Cafeteria Girls look like a professional fact-checking department. Maybe that was why it was so popular.
On the cover of this week’s issue was a photograph of Captain Justice. Beside the photo was a block of bold text:
CAPTAIN CAUGHT CANOODLING!
Captain Justice was standing next to a tall, slender woman with fiery red hair and a matching cape. She was wearing sunglasses and holding a coffee cup. They looked to be frozen in a moment of laughter at something one of them had just said, obviously unaware that they were being photographed.
“That’s Scarlett Flame!” Milton said, pointing at the red-haired woman. “She’s the one who fought the Abominator on the roof of the Empire State Building. There’s tons of cool stuff in here!”
My mom had a different opinion about
Super Scoop
. “Trashy magazines like that give us all a bad reputation,”she had whispered to me the last time we’d passed an issue in the checkout line at the grocery store. I’d wanted to point out that trying to destroy the world probably didn’t do much for their rep either.
Mom had probably still been upset about the cover story from a few months earlier entitled, “The Botanist: Is She Getting TOO Close to Her Zombies?” This had been accompanied by a photo of Mom supposedly kissing one of her zombies. Actually, the zombie had been trying to bite her ear off, but the magazine hadn’t mentioned that.
“It’s not even real journalism,” Mom had complained. “It’s just
lies
. Who buys this junk?”
“My mom subscribes,” Milton said now, grinning. “I always look through the new issues when they show up at our house.”
He flipped excitedly through the magazine’s pages.
“Here’s an article about this Mexican supervillain, El Diablo Gigantico, who’s supposedly trying to make it big in America now. And this kid nFinity—he’s only
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