Read I So Don't Do Spooky for Free Online

“Yeah. And you are?”
    â€œI’m, uh, uh, homeschooled.” Yikes. My mind blanked. I can’t believe I forgot to think of a fake name.
    â€œShe means, what’s your name?” Austin says.
    Thank you, Austin, who I’m sure has many friends, given his helpful personality. I tap my thinnish bottom lip. Sherry. Sherry. Rhymes with … “Mary.”
    â€œWe don’t usually let homeschooled kids join our team.” Claire hooks hair from the longer side behind her ear.
    â€œYou have to let me. It’s the law.” Here is an advantage of living with The Ruler, who has mentioned at the dinner table how public schools must allow homeschooled kids to join extracurricular clubs. I know for sure we have a couple in the band at Saguaro.
    Claire hooks hair from the shorter side behind her ear. “Mary, got any experience with robots?”
    â€œSome.” If you count babysitting a younger brother who plays with Transformers. “I know about motion sensors.” If you count having a best friend who plays with them.
    Like they’re waking up from a deep sleep, the other students start adding to the conversation. They obviously all bow to Queen Claire, though. A girl in cool boots says, “We could use some extra help.” A guy with a mohawk says, “The practice competition is just around the corner.”
    â€œCome on, Bryce,” Austin says to a redheaded guy who’s kneeling and sorting miniature thingies into piles by shape. Very
Sesame Street
.
    They go into a small room at the back and return with a piece of plywood on wheels. In the middle of this homemade dolly sits a big lump hidden under a thick blanket. They wheel the dolly onto the tarp.
    Then, pulling on a corner of the blanket, Claire begins to slowly unveil the lump. With a final yank, it’s revealed.
    Squatting on the plywood is a gray metal platform about the size of a kitchen tray. Attached to it are smaller gray metal rectangular pieces, a few gray metal stick arms, rubber wheels and many, many unsightly wires. It’s about knee high.
    Sometimes, a thought from my brain will gallop out of my mouth before I can lasso it. I say, “That’s your robot? Could it be more boring?”
    Shocked silence in the Donner computer lab.
    Another thought gallops out. “You need to seriously bling out this robot. So it looks totally different from every other robot at the competitions.” I walk over to the dolly and examine the robot from all angles. “Are your school colors white, black and turquoise?”
    A girl with a bunch of forehead pimples says, “Yeah.”
    â€œI’ve got some gorgeous glass gemstones and sequins left over from decorating my bedroom that we could use. They’re turquoise plus sea green, a cuter color than just plain turquoise.” I launch into a description of my room and aquarium, because the two totally coordinate. It’s the way my fish and I roll. For my walls, I mixed up this unique turquoise + sea green paint at Home Depot and tossed in glitter. I sewed sequins in different shapes on my beautiful wavy blue and green bedspread. I glued glass gem-stones around the doorframe and windowsill. I painted and decorated mini castles and treasure chests for my fish. And finally, after months and months of hunting, I found turquoise + sea green gravel for the bottom of the tank. Quite frankly, my room and aquarium could be featured in a fancyschmancy decorating magazine. Or at least in a pet magazine.
    Okay. No need for me to help the Donner team. Butwhen it comes to beauty and fashion, even for a robot, I’m all about sharing. It’s my generous nature.
    Claire rudely interrupts my chat. “Button people? Can you use Mary?”
    â€œNot really; we’re in good shape,” Mohawk Guy says. “We’re making buttons with our logo to hand out at the meets,” he explains to me. “All the teams