“Fine, fine,” Mr. Barber replied. “He can show me the book later.”

Conan’s chair scraped back into place under the table.

Evan didn’t wait another second.

He jerked open the front door, pushed open the screen door, and burst out of the house like a rocket.

He could hear Andy gasping as she ran behind him. And then he could hear Trigger’s shrill yips as the dog followed, too.

Down the Barbers’ front lawn, into the street. Their sneakers slapped the pavement as they ran full speed through the darkness.

They didn’t stop until they reached Evan’s driveway.

Evan leaned against his family’s mailbox and struggled to catch his breath. He raised his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead—and saw the blue can still stuck there.

“Help me,” he pleaded. He reached out his hand to Andy.

She was breathing hard, too. Her eyes kept darting back down the street, as if she expected Conan to be chasing after them.

“Close one,” she murmured. She turned to Evan. Her eyes glowed excitedly in the light from the streetlamp. “That was fun!”

Evan didn’t agree. In his opinion, it was far too scary to be fun. And here he was, still stuck to the can of Monster Blood.

He pushed his hand toward Andy. “Pull it off,” he told her. “I think you need both hands. I can’t do it.”

She grabbed the can in both hands. The green gunk bubbled over the sides, making loud sucking sounds.

Andy tugged. Then tugged harder. Then she took a deep breath, leaned back, and tugged with all her might.

The Monster Blood finally let go of its grip on Evan’s fingers. The can slid off with a loud pop. Andy went tumbling back onto the pavement.

“Ow!” Evan held up his three fingers and tried to examine them under the streetlight. They were all wrinkled and pruney, the way they looked when he had been swimming for an hour or two.

“Yuck! That stuff is so gross!” he cried.

Andy climbed slowly to her feet. She still cradled the Monster Blood can in both hands. “At least we got it back,” she murmured.

“Yeah. Now we can bury it again,” Evan said, still examining his fingers.

“Huh? Bury it?” Andy pulled the can away, as if protecting it from Evan.

“You heard me,” Evan said firmly. “It’s just too dangerous to mess with, Andy. Take it home and bury it in your back yard, okay?”

Andy stared down at the can. She didn’t reply.

“Bury it,” Evan repeated. “Take it home and bury it. Promise?”

“Well …” Andy hesitated. Then she said, “Okay. Promise.”

*  *  *

Evan woke up with a bad sore throat the next morning.

His mother worried that he might be coming down with the flu. So she kept him home from school. Evan spent the day reading comic books and watching MTV. His sore throat disappeared by midafternoon.

He returned to school the next day, feeling refreshed and ready to see everyone.

The good feeling lasted until he stepped into Mr. Murphy’s science class near the end of the day. Evan had to walk past the hamster cage to get to his seat.

As he neared the cage, he peered in.

That’s weird, he thought. Where’s Cuddles?

When did Mr. Murphy get a rabbit?

A rabbit?!

He stopped and leaned closer to the cage.

Familiar black eyes stared up at him. A familiar pink nose twitched at him.

It was Cuddles, Evan realized.

Cuddles had grown as big as a rabbit!

Evan leaned over the hamster cage, staring at the giant-sized Cuddles, as the bell rang. He turned to see that the other kids had all taken their seats.

“Evan, I see you’re examining your victim,” Mr. Murphy said from the front of the room.

“I—uh—” Evan couldn’t think of a reply. “Victim?”

Mr. Murphy angrily narrowed his beady black eyes at Evan. “You’ve been overfeeding Cuddles, Evan. Look how fat he has become.”

Evan knew that Cuddles’s weight problem wasn’t his fault.

And it had nothing to do with overeating.

Cuddles had grown to triple-hamster size because of Monster Blood.

“When I find Andy, I’ll strangle her!” Evan muttered.

“What did you say, Evan?” Mr. Murphy demanded.

Evan could feel his face turning bright red. He hadn’t meant to talk out loud.

“Uh … nothing,” he replied, totally embarrassed. He slunk to his seat.