The next day at school, I met up with Amy and Andrew at lunch in the cafeteria.
"How awesome was last night!" Andrew could hardly contain his excitement. "We were so toast if that janitor had caught us." He opened the brown paper bag he was holding and pulled out what looked like a rotten cheese sandwich, and took a huge bite out of it.
"Very funny," I scrunched my nose. "We were very lucky, that's for sure." I peered over my shoulder and saw Amy making her way over from the lunch line. I gave her a thumbs up but she replied by putting a finger down her throat.
"Spicy taco noodles again!" Amy sighed as she slumped down on the chair opposite me. "Seriously guys, I'm gonna have to start bringing my own lunch to school from now on. Even if it is those horrible tuna-mayo sandwiches my mother always makes, it sure is a lot better than this crud," she lifted her fork out of the bowl and let the brownish, wet glob splash back down onto her tray with a squishy thud. "I just can't take this anymore." Andrew and I laughed. She pointed at Andrew, "Even that mess of a sandwich you are eating looks more appetizing than this."
"Hey," Andrew shot back.
"Anyway," Amy said, turning her attention back on to me, "what's wrong with your hand?" Amy motioned to my left hand.
"Oh this?" I lifted it up to show the both of them. A white bandage was wrapped securely around the palm of my left hand. After I got home after our adventure, a nasty, bloody blister had appeared on my hand. "I don't really know what happened." Amy and Andrew gave confused stares. "But I do know that it happened last night in that bug museum, right before we got out of there."
"So you cut it on a piece of glass or something?" Andrew questioned as he stuck his hand into his brown paper bag, pulled out the other half of his appealing sandwich and took a bite.
"No," I shoved a piece of toast into my mouth and waited a few more seconds before replying. "That's the strange part. I got burnt by something, but I don't know what, or even how." I flipped my hand back and forth, as if doing so was going to reveal the answer.
"Burnt?" Amy exclaimed. "But there was no heat or fire at all." A puzzled expression struck her face.
"I know, I know. The janitor must have knocked over a bottle of acid or something when he was near the desk I was hiding under, because the next thing I knew, I was putting my hand in a hole that was burning through the floor." Andrew looked at his own hand and cringed at the thought of acid burning through his own flesh. "Anyway," I went on, "did any of you guys notice how strange the janitor looked? Like his face was deformed or something?" I grabbed at my own face and pulled it in different directions.
"Not really," said Amy. "It was too dark to see anything clearly." Andrew nodded in agreement. "Your eyes must have been playing games with you or something. You know what they say, how your eyes can play tricks on you, especially at night."
"That's true," I groaned with disappointment. "But it looked so real, even though you are probably right." I sat there for a few moments, considering if what I saw as in fact real or not.
Suddenly the lunch bell rang throughout the cafeteria, bringing me back into the real world. Andrew and Amy both laughed at me as I jumped up at the sound.
"I'll see you guys by my locker after school then?" I asked as I collected my things. They both nodded as we all got up and went to clear our trays and headed off for class.
Fifteen minutes had passed since school finished when Amy made her way towards my locker where Andrew and I were waiting. She did not seem to be in a happy mood.
"Uhh!" Amy cried. "That Mr. Grange really has it out for me!" She shoved her books into my stomach and I took note to carry them and not question why. " He put me in detention for tomorrow afternoon, because I was telling little miss Sonya Downing and her group to stop talking, and yet I am the one that gets done for talking. Me! Life isn't fair!" Andrew started to laugh but quickly decided against it when Amy shot him an evil glare.
"Hey, everything is ok." Andrew hugged her in an attempt to comfort her, but I felt that it was more to make up for his mistake at laughing at her. "Mr. Grange will be Mr. Grange. He has always been like that." Andrew gave her a sympathetic look. "I'll tell you what. Since you seem to be in a bad mood, Robbie and I will give you our notes tomorrow after our second nightly visit to the museum."
My heart skipped a beat, and I was not sure if I had heard Andrew correctly. "Wha-what di-did you say?" I stammered.
"You heard me loud and clear kid." He grinned as big as he could. I really hate it when he calls me kid. We are all in the same grade, and I am only two months younger than him, so I don't even know why he calls me that. He knows I don't like it, so he will continue to do it till the end of time.
"You are what?" I asked
"We," he pointed at me and then to himself, "are going back to that museum, tonight."