Excerpt
My name is Matt Daniels, and my terrifying story began on a typical morning. In my house, typical means totally annoying. Because who showed up just as my sister, Livvy, and I were finishing our breakfast?
The kid from next door. Bradley Wormser.
Everyone at school calls him Worm, and it's a pretty good nickname for him. Trust me.
Bradley shows up in our kitchen almost every morning, just as Livvy and I are finishing breakfast. And he gobbles up whatever he can grab.
He's so skinny, it's hard to believe he could eat everything on the kitchen table if we let him. He really does look like a long, lanky worm with glasses!
I have this idea that one day I'm going to glue the Pop Tarts to the table. Then I'm going to enjoy the look on Bradley's face as he struggles to pull them up.
I'm great at inventing stuff. And I'm really interested in science. And I'm a pretty good athlete.
But none of that helps me against Worm Wormser. He drives me nuts!
This morning, Bradley waited till my mom's back was turned. Then he dropped a fat, dead horsefly into my cereal. I stared down at the fly floating on top of the milk.
"Yucko," Bradley said. "You don't want that, do you, Matt? There's a dead fly in it."
He pulled the bowl away from me, tilted it to his face, and drank the cereal down. Then he spit the fly onto the floor. "Not bad," he said, using Livvy's sleeve to wipe his mouth. "A little soggy."
"Let go of me!" Livvy cried.
He snapped his fingers an inch from her nose. He thinks that's totally funny. Livvy hates it.
Mom has no idea what a pain Bradley is.
She was cleaning something at the sink. "Mom, can I have another bowl of cereal?" I asked.
"No seconds, Matt," she replied without turning around. "You've got to watch your weight. Your big swim meet is coming up soon, remember?"
My stomach growled. Angrily, I grabbed a wet glob of cornflakes from Livvy's bowl with my fingers — and stuck it onto Bradley's nose.
Mom turned around. "Matt!" she shouted, glaring at me. "Don't play with your food!"
"Yeah, Matt. Don't play with your food," Bradley said, grinning.
As soon as Mom went back to cleaning, he made a grab for Livvy's Pop Tart.
Mom turned around again just as Livvy snatched it away. "Livvy, no fighting!" she snapped.
"But, Mom —"
See what I told you? You spell Bradley's name P-A-I-N.