My Hairiest Adventure by R. L. Stine Page A

Coke can
at me and started chanting. “Hairy Larry! Hairy Larry!”
    “Come on, guys!” I pleaded. “I’m serious!”
    That made Kristina and Jared laugh even harder.
    I turned to Lily, who was still standing beside the couch. She had a troubled
expression on her face. She definitely wasn’t laughing. She lowered her eyes to
the floor as I continued to stare at her.
    “Larry is a werewolf!” Jared declared.
    “I hope The Geeks don’t have to play when there’s a full moon!” Kristina
exclaimed.
    “Maybe Larry’s howling is better than his guitar playing!” Jared said. They
both laughed.
    “I—I was just making a joke!” I stammered. I wanted a hole to open up in
the floor so that I could disappear into it.
    I’m the only one, I realized. I’m the only one who is growing the ugly
hair.
    That’s why Jared and Kristina thought it was so funny. It wasn’t happening to
them. They didn’t have to worry about it.
    But Lily wasn’t joining in with the jokes. She turned away and started
picking up music sheets from the floor and straightening the room.
    Lily always enjoys teasing me and making me blush. I stared at her, wondering
if she had the same secret I did.
    I packed up my guitar slowly and waited for Jared and Kristina to leave. Then
I put on my coat and baseball cap and followed Lily to the front door.
    On the front stoop, I turned back to her. “Lily, tell me the truth,” I
insisted, studying her face. “Have you been growing weird patches of black hair
on your hands and knees?”
    She hesitated, chewing her bottom lip. “I… I don’t want to talk about it,”
she replied in a whisper.
    Then she slammed the front door.
    I didn’t move from the concrete stoop. I kept picturing her troubled
expression. I kept hearing her whispered voice.
    Was it happening to Lily? If it was, why wouldn’t she admit it to me? Was she
too embarrassed?
    Or was she embarrassed for me?
    Maybe it wasn’t happening to her, I realized. Maybe she just thinks I’m
crazy. Maybe she feels bad for me because I keep acting like such a jerk.
    Feeling totally confused, I turned and headed for the street. The sun was
still high in the sky, but the air felt cold. A sharp wind blew at my face as I
started toward home.
    Leaning into the wind, I reached up and tugged down my cap to keep it from
blowing away. To my surprise, I couldn’t pull it down.
    The cap suddenly felt tight. Too tight.
    I removed it and held it close to my face to study it. Had someone adjusted
the back to make it tighter?
    No.
    A chill of dread ran down my back as I raised a hand to my forehead. And
discovered why my cap didn’t fit.
    My entire forehead was covered with thick, bristly hair.

 
 
18
     
     
    I burst through the back door, into the kitchen. “Mom—look at this!” I
cried. “Look at my head!”
    My eyes darted around the room. “Mom?”
    Not there.
    I ran through the house, calling for her. I decided it was time to show my
parents what was happening to me. Time to make them believe me.
    The stripe of hair would totally gross them out, would finally convince them
this was serious.
    “Mom! Dad? Anybody home?”
    No.
    When I returned to the kitchen, I found a note on the refrigerator: WE
WENT SHOPPING IN BROOKESDALE VILLAGE. HOME LATE. FIX YOURSELF A SNACK.
    With a cry of disgust, I tossed my cap across the room. Then I pulled off my
parka and let it fall to the floor.
    My heart pounding, I made my way to the mirror in the front hall and studied myself. I looked like some kind of comic
book mutant!
    My pale face stared back at me. It appeared exactly the same. Except that I
had a thick, black stripe of fur across my forehead.
    Looks like I’m wearing a bandanna, I thought miserably. Like one of those
headbands that skiers wear. Except this one is made of disgusting hair.
    I ran a trembling hand over the thick hair.
    My chest heaved up and down. I felt like crying and screaming furiously at
the same time. I felt like grabbing