Ben paused in the hallway to check his class schedule.
His first class was Cooking in room 103.
"Cooking class?" thought Ben. "I don't want to learn to cook!"
Around him lockers slammed and feet thudded as other monsters hurried to their classes.
"How does my eye makeup look?" Ben heard a purple monster ask a goblin.
"My mom says I put way too much on."
"It looks great," answered the goblin.
"But you missed your fourth eye completely."
Ben sighed and floated down the hall and into room 103.
He saw a zombie sitting alone at a table.
"Hi," said Ben. "Can I sit here?"
The zombie stared silently at Ben.
Ben felt uncomfortable. "Maybe he doesn't like me," he thought.
There hadn't been any zombies at his old school—mostly just other ghosts.
A witch sat down at the table. Ben recognized her from his homeroom.
She had flowing black hair and was dressed all in black.
Even her fingernails were painted black.
The witch smiled at Ben.
"Zombies just like to stare. It doesn't mean he doesn't like you."
"What?" Ben thought, startled. "How did she know what I was thinking?"
The witch laughed.
"I can't always tell what others are thinking, but sometimes I can. Have a seat."
"Uh-oh," Ben thought, sitting down.
He was going to have to watch his thoughts when this witch was around.
Ben sneaked another look at the witch.
Her eyes were green and flecked with gold.
She was the most beautiful witch he'd ever seen.
Just then a huge monster with two sharp horns stalked over to the table.
"Move over!" he growled at Ben. "I sit next to Winnie!"
"Chill out, Mog," said the witch, spreading her fingers to admire her nail polish.
Mog ignored her. He moved his face so close to Ben's that their noses nearly touched.
"Did you hear me?" said Mog. "I said, move over!"
The room was suddenly quiet. All the other monsters were looking at Ben.
Ben puffed out his chest, trying not to look scared.
"I heard you," he said. "But I'm not moving."
He glanced at Winnie, who was watching him with a surprised look.
Mog glared at Ben for a few moments.
Finally the big monster grunted and sat down on the other side of Winnie, at the end of the table.
To Ben's surprise, a ghoul sitting at the next table gave Ben the "claws-up" sign.
A moment later an old witch hobbled into the room.
She wore a crooked purple hat and orange sunglasses.
On her chin was a huge mole.
"She used to be the broom-flying teacher," Winnie whispered.
"My sister had her last year. She was terrible at flying brooms, though.
So now a new teacher, Miss Bungle, teaches it."
"Good morning, monsters," said the teacher.
"My name is Mrs. Hag, and I will be your cooking teacher."
Mog groaned.
"Excuse me!" said Mrs. Hag, fixing her eyes on Mog.
"Did you have something to say?"
"Yeah," said Mog. "I hate cooking."
"We actually have something in common," thought Ben.
Mrs. Hag grinned, revealing a row of brown, rotted teeth.
"Well then, Mog, perhaps you'll prefer cleaning.
That will be your job at the end of class."
Mog scowled, and Ben tried not to laugh.
After Mrs. Hag took attendance, she opened an enormous cookbook.
"For our first cooking lesson, we will make Slimy Toad Stew."
"Yum!" said the ghoul, smacking his lips.
"First we need to gather the ingredients." Mrs. Hag read from the cookbook.
"Let's see . . . Six rotten eggs, four dried worms, one ounce of bat claws.
Oh, I just bought some bat claws yesterday."
She felt in her pocket. "I thought I had them with me."
Mrs. Hag searched her other pockets, but she couldn't find the bat claws anywhere.
"Oh, well. I must have dropped them somewhere," she muttered to herself.
Mrs. Hag opened a cabinet and peeked inside. "What else can we use?
Aha! These thorns will probably work just as well as bat claws."
The teacher pulled a small bag from the cabinet.
"It says here that these are very special thorns," said Mrs. Hag as she examined the bag.
"They're from a bush that was grown by the light of the full moon."
"I'm not sure she knows what she's doing," Winnie murmured.
By now some of the monsters in class were starting to doze off.
Ben thought he heard the zombie snoring, but the zombie's eyes were still open. Ben looked at Winnie.
Winnie shrugged. "I don't know either.
He might be sleeping, or he might be awake. It's hard to tell with zombies."
Ben was about to respond when suddenly his stool flew out from under him and across the room!