Second Star to the Fright (Disney Chills 3)

“Hey, watch it, Littles,” Michael said, rolling his eyes. “Stupid goobers.”

“Remember when that was us?” Barrie said, feeling a rush of nostalgia. He watched the five-year-olds cracking each other up with fart noises. That had been them once. So much had changed since then. Though, his friends still thought farts were funny. Who didn’t?

“Yeah, much better to rule the school!” John added, scowling at the kindergartners and their silly antics. “At least for four more days.”

They busted out their secret Lost Boys handshake as they reached their class. “Lost Boys forever!” they chanted together as they slid their hands apart and marched into the classroom.

Inside, Mr. Bates was trying to calm the raucous students and get them to settle down, but Barrie lingered back. He needed to examine the hook and letter. It was really happening—he didn’t have a birthday today. Talking to his friends had confirmed that. They had never forgotten his birthday before. It could only mean one thing—his wish really was coming true.

“Hey, I gotta hit the bathroom,” Barrie said, backing away. “I’ll see you in a sec.”

“Just don’t be late,” John warned. “Mr. Bates is kind of unhappy with you after last week and that whole not-doing-your-homework situation.”

“Yeah, if you get marked tardy, there’s no way your parents will let you go to the concert tomorrow night,” Michael added. “You’ll get grounded. Like for real.”

* * *

Barrie knew it was risky—the bell would sound soon, and Michael was right about him needing to avoid getting in trouble if he wanted to go to the concert. But his heart raced with excitement over the thought that he had gotten his wish. That it had actually come true.

Now I can keep my friends, he thought, and we can stay Lost Boys forever.

His heart still pounding, Barrie closed the door behind him. Across the hall, he spotted an empty classroom. The lights were off. It was a science lab. It was closer than the bathroom, which was all the way down the hall. He ducked inside the shadowy room. The

overhead fluorescents were switched off. Stainless steel tables spanned the room. Metal shelves with beakers, microscopes, goggles, and other lab equipment lined the walls, along with slop sinks. EMERGENCY EYEWASH STATION read a green sign over the sinks.

Barrie checked to make sure the room was deserted. Outside, the halls had quieted down. He didn’t have much time. Quickly, he pulled out the hook and letter from his backpack, ensuring that he still had them. As he ran his fingers over the hook and reread the letter, he felt elated.

“I’ll never grow up because I don’t have a birthday anymore,” he whispered to the hook. “I’m going to stay the same age forever.”

All his fears about getting older. The stuff Rita told him about. Losing her childhood best friends. The social pressure. And…algebra. His parents and their constant stress over their jobs and money and bills. Now he would never have to go through all of that.

He was always going to be a kid. No responsibilities. Just fun.

“Heck, I don’t even have to pay attention in class anymore,” Barrie whispered excitedly to the hook. He fished his math homework out of his backpack, balled it up, and tossed it in the trash by the eyewash station. “Good riddance.” He already knew everything that he needed to be a kid. He didn’t need to learn all that boring adult stuff. He’d never have to do algebra.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Barrie tensed at the sound of rhythmic dripping. He glanced over at the eyewash station. The eyeholes were slowly releasing droplets of water. Somebody must have left the taps on. He turned them off, and they stopped dripping. He turned away, but then he heard it again.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

His breath caught in his throat. He was sure he’d turned the taps off. The dripping morphed into gushing. Slowly, he turned around. Water rushed out of the eyeholes. He leaned over the sink. The tap water smelled…like the ocean.

“That’s weird,” he whispered.

He tasted the droplets on his fingers. They tasted salty.

Quickly, he shut off the faucet again with an uneasy shudder.

Maybe they were having plumbing problems at the school? After all, it was an older building and run-down. Stuff always seemed to be breaking. He shrugged, zipped up his backpack with the hook, and headed for the door. He needed to get back to class before the bell.

Thump. Thump.

Barrie’s heart all but stopped. It couldn’t be. He froze in his tracks and listened harder.

Thump. Thump.

That sound. It was the same sound he’d heard on the pirate ship, but it was coming from the closet in the back of the science lab. Behind the glass of the door, he saw a shadow move.