The Great Smelling Bee by R.L. Stine

Chapter 2
A W HOLE O THER C HAPTER
    The Whole Other Chapter began this morning.
    I was smiling. Innocent. Happy. Did I have a care in the world?
    I don’t think so.
    My faithful friend Belzer carried my breakfast in on a tray. He brings me breakfast in bed every morning.
    Good kid, Belzer.
    It took me a long time to train him. But it was worth it.
    Belzer is a chubby guy with red hair and freckles. This morning he was wearing his Rotten Schoolblazer. We all have to wear the school uniform.
    But under his blazer, Belzer was wearing a white T-shirt with bright blue letters across the front. The T-shirt said: I NEED A TUTOR .
    Sad, huh?
    He wears these loser T-shirts. But, hey—I always tell him he’s looking good. I like to keep my guys happy.
    Belzer poured my orange juice for me. Then he went across the hall to his room.
    I nibbled on a few things…eggs, bacon, blueberry muffins, hash brown potatoes, flapjacks, cornflakes with bananas, and apple cobbler.
    All part of a healthy breakfast—right?
    After I swallowed the last crumb of cobbler, I did the Official Rotten School Burp for a few minutes.

    Then I climbed out of bed and put on my school uniform.
    I practiced smiling in the mirror for a while. “Bernie, those dimples are killer !”
    Happy. Innocent. Carefree.
    And then the box arrived.
    Belzer staggered into my room, carrying a HUGE wooden crate in both arms. “Big B, this just came for you,” he said. “I…I carried it up three flights of stairs.” He let out a groan. “Heavy,” he muttered. “Heavy.” His knees buckled, and he fell to the floor.
    â€œWhy don’t you set it down?” I asked.
    â€œOh. Good thinking.” Belzer dropped the crate. Then he sprawled facedown on the floor, gasping for breath.
    My two best buddies, Feenman and Crench, walked into the room.
    Feenman and Crench are tall and lean and goofy looking. But they are serious dudes. Serious about having fun twenty-four hours a day.
    Feenman has a strange hobby. He likes to paint things red when no one is looking. And Crench’s hobby? Making funny noises with balloons.
    Good guys.
    Belzer, Feenman, and Crench are crammed intothe tiny room across from me. They insisted I take the big room for myself. They knew I need my own space. Lots of quiet so I can plan and scheme.

    â€œWhat’s up with the box?” Feenman asked.
    I helped pull Belzer to his feet. “Probably a gift from one of my admirers,” I said. “Maybe the teachers all chipped in to buy me something special. You know. To thank me just for being me.”
    Crench walked around the crate. “The box is as big as our room,” he said. “After you empty it, could I live in the box, Bernie? Could I?”
    â€œDon’t be bitter,” I said. I studied the wooden crate. “Maybe April-May June sent me a big box of chocolates.”
    April-May June is the coolest, hottest, blondest, snobbiest girl in the fourth grade. “It’s about time she started to notice me,” I said. I patted the side of the box. “Think she sent me flowers?”
    â€œBernie, the box is from your parents,” Feenman said. “Look at the writing on the side. It says ‘Mr. and Mrs. Benny Bridges.’”
    â€œMy parents sent this box?” I felt a little pang in my heart, a moment of sadness. I love living at theRotten School, but sometimes I miss my parents.
    They are travel writers, so they travel all the time. That’s why they send me to boarding school. We keep in touch by e-mail and cell phone. I get to tell them how great I’m doing and how everyone thinks I’m awesome.
    But it isn’t the same as telling them in person.
    I studied the box. “A present from my parents…hmmm.” What could it be?
    Maybe it’s a car, I thought. They know I hate walking to class. No. Maybe it’s a PlayStation with a few hundred games. They know I need time