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Ben paused in the hallway to check his class schedule.

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His first class was Cooking in room 103.

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"Cooking class?" thought Ben. "I don't want to learn to cook!"

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Around him lockers slammed and feet thudded as other monsters hurried to their classes.

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"How does my eye makeup look?" Ben heard a purple monster ask a goblin.

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"My mom says I put way too much on."

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"It looks great," answered the goblin.

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"But you missed your fourth eye completely."

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Ben sighed and floated down the hall and into room 103.

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He saw a zombie sitting alone at a table.

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"Hi," said Ben. "Can I sit here?"

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The zombie stared silently at Ben.

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Ben felt uncomfortable. "Maybe he doesn't like me," he thought.

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There hadn't been any zombies at his old school—mostly just other ghosts.

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A witch sat down at the table. Ben recognized her from his homeroom.

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She had flowing black hair and was dressed all in black.

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Even her fingernails were painted black.

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The witch smiled at Ben.

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"Zombies just like to stare. It doesn't mean he doesn't like you."

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"What?" Ben thought, startled. "How did she know what I was thinking?"

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The witch laughed.

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"I can't <font color="#ffff00"><i>always</i></font> tell what others are thinking, but sometimes I can. Have a seat."

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"Uh-oh," Ben thought, sitting down.

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He was going to have to watch his thoughts when this witch was around.

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Ben sneaked another look at the witch.

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Her eyes were green and flecked with gold.

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She was the most beautiful witch he'd ever seen.

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Just then a huge monster with two sharp horns stalked over to the table.

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"Move over!" he growled at Ben. "<font color="#ffff00"><i>I</i></font> sit next to Winnie!"

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"Chill out, Mog," said the witch, spreading her fingers to admire her nail polish.

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Mog ignored her. He moved his face so close to Ben's that their noses nearly touched.

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"Did you hear me?" said Mog. "I said, move over!"

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The room was suddenly quiet. All the other monsters were looking at Ben.

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Ben puffed out his chest, trying not to look scared.

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"I heard you," he said. "But I'm not moving."

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He glanced at Winnie, who was watching him with a surprised look.

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Mog glared at Ben for a few moments.

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Finally the big monster grunted and sat down on the other side of Winnie, at the end of the table.

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To Ben's surprise, a ghoul sitting at the next table gave Ben the "claws-up" sign.

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A moment later an old witch hobbled into the room.

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She wore a crooked purple hat and orange sunglasses.

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On her chin was a huge mole.

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"She used to be the broom-flying teacher," Winnie whispered.

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"My sister had her last year. She was terrible at flying brooms, though.

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So now a new teacher, Miss Bungle, teaches it."

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"Good morning, monsters," said the teacher.

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"My name is Mrs. Hag, and I will be your cooking teacher."

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Mog groaned.

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"Excuse me!" said Mrs. Hag, fixing her eyes on Mog.

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"Did you have something to say?"

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"Yeah," said Mog. "I hate cooking."

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"We actually have something in common," thought Ben.

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Mrs. Hag grinned, revealing a row of brown, rotted teeth.

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"Well then, Mog, perhaps you'll prefer cleaning.

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That will be your job at the end of class."

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Mog scowled, and Ben tried not to laugh.

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After Mrs. Hag took attendance, she opened an enormous cookbook.

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"For our first cooking lesson, we will make Slimy Toad Stew."

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"Yum!" said the ghoul, smacking his lips.

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"First we need to gather the ingredients." Mrs. Hag read from the cookbook.

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"Let's see . . . Six rotten eggs, four dried worms, one ounce of bat claws.

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Oh, I just bought some bat claws yesterday."

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She felt in her pocket. "I thought I had them with me."

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Mrs. Hag searched her other pockets, but she couldn't find the bat claws anywhere.

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"Oh, well. I must have dropped them somewhere," she muttered to herself.

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Mrs. Hag opened a cabinet and peeked inside. "What else can we use?

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Aha! These thorns will probably work just as well as bat claws."

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The teacher pulled a small bag from the cabinet.

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"It says here that these are very special thorns," said Mrs. Hag as she examined the bag.

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"They're from a bush that was grown by the light of the full moon."

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"I'm not sure she knows what she's doing," Winnie murmured.

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By now some of the monsters in class were starting to doze off.

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Ben thought he heard the zombie snoring, but the zombie's eyes were still open. Ben looked at Winnie.

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Winnie shrugged. "I don't know either.

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He might be sleeping, or he might be awake. It's hard to tell with zombies."

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Ben was about to respond when suddenly his stool flew out from under him and across the room!