Just step over that giant boa constrictor. Don't worry. He almost never strikes when he's curled up like that. Besides, I fed him someone â oops â I mean,
something
this morning.

The Hall of Horrors is a very special place.

Frightened kids find their way here. Haunted kids. Kids with terrifying stories to tell.

They are eager to tell their stories to me. For I am the Listener. I am the Story-Keeper. I keep the stories safe within these castle walls.

We have a visitor today. His name is Lee Hargrove. He is twelve.

Lee is all tense, hunched up in that big leather harmchair. And what is he squeezing in his hand? Is it a rabbit's foot?

Let's ask him.

“Why did you bring that rabbit's foot, Lee?”

“Because I've had some bad luck lately. I hope this is a good-luck charm.”

“Well, it wasn't good luck for the rabbit!” I joke. Lee doesn't smile.

“When did your bad luck start?”

“I guess my worst luck was at my friend's birthday party. It was a horrible day for me. Things got totally out of control. And I was asked to leave the party.”

“Why don't you start at the beginning, Lee? I am the Story-Keeper. Tell me your story.”

Lee squeezes the rabbit's foot in his fist. “It's a creepy story. Are you sure you want me to tell it?”

Go ahead, Lee. Don't be afraid. There's Always Room for One More Scream in the Hall of Horrors.

My name is Lee Hargrove, and I want to start out by saying that Cory Duckworth is my friend.

It's true that I
hate
Cory a lot of the time. But that's only because he is so lucky. Cory is lucky
all
the time. I mean, twenty-four hours a day and on weekends, too.

That's why a lot of kids at Garfield Middle School call him Lucky Duck. (Duckworth â get it?)

Cory even
looks
lucky. He has curly blond hair and round blue eyes, a nice smile, and a dimple in his chin. You know. The kind of cute dimple that says
I'm luckier than you
.

Cory is smart and has a funny sense of humor. And he's really good at sports. Which is another reason why I hate him.

See, I'm into sports, too. And I have a goal. I guess you could call it my one big dream in life.

All I want is a scholarship to Summer Sports Camp.

It's only spring. But I think about it all the time. Summer Sports Camp is very expensive. My parents are both teachers at the high school. They say they can't afford it.

So I need a scholarship.

I don't want to hang around the house playing the same video game over and over like I did last summer. Some awesome pro athletes teach at the camp. I have to be there. I have to meet them.

Can I get the scholarship? There are only a few things in my way. And most of them are Cory Duckworth.

See, Lucky Duck is trying for the same scholarship. And so is Laura Grodin. Laura is twelve like us, and she's in our class.

Some kids say I have a total crush on Laura, and they may be right.

Cory, Laura, and I, and a bunch of other kids are trying out for the scholarship. I know we three are the best. But only one kid can win it from our school.

That means Laura and I are competing against one of the luckiest dudes in the universe. How can we defeat that dimple? Those sparkling blue eyes? That winning smile?

It won't be easy. We have to compete in three different sports. And none of them is my best sport. But we also get judged on sportsmanship and improvement and desire. And I plan to win at ALL of those.

I'm going to do whatever it takes. I'm serious.

After school, I was walking down the crowded hall to my locker. Lots of kids were heading to the soccer field. See, our soccer team, the Garfield Gorillas, plays in a spring league.

I ducked under the low yellow and blue banner:
GO GORILLAS
.

And suddenly, someone was waving something under my nose. I pulled my head back, and I saw it clearly â a twenty-dollar bill.

Yes. Lucky Duckworth was crinkling a twenty-dollar bill in my face. And he was flashing me his toothy grin.

“Check it out, Lee,” he said. He rubbed the money on my cheek.

I tried to jerk my face away. “What's up with that?”

Cory danced away a few feet. He never walks. He dances or he struts or he shuffles and slides.

“Remember? I found this money in the lunchroom?” Cory said. “Well, guess what? I turned it in to the principal's office. But no one claimed it. So I get to keep it.”

“Lucky,” I muttered.

Typical
, I thought to myself.

That's a perfect Cory story. I guess you're starting to get the idea. He doesn't need a rabbit's foot for luck.

Cory danced off down the hall. I stuck my head in my locker and screamed for a minute or two. I wasn't angry or upset. Really. Sometimes it just feels good to scream.

I mean, Cory is my friend. I can't get angry when good things happen to him â right?

I pulled my head from the locker and gazed down the hall. Laura Grodin was leaning against the wall, talking to Cory. She kept running a hand through her straight red hair and blinking her green eyes at him.

He was flashing the twenty-dollar bill in her face. And bragging about what a good finder he is. I heard him say he could sniff out money from two blocks away.

Ha. Guess he also plans to sniff out the scholarship money that I desperately need.

I watched him showing off to Laura. And I thought:
I don't want anything bad to happen to Cory. I just wish there was a way to borrow his good luck for a while.

Cory and Laura walked off together. I saw Mr. Grady, a school janitor, up high on a ladder in the middle of the hall. He was reaching both hands up to replace a ceiling light.

Cory and Laura stopped at one side of the ladder.

Mr. Grady had the big metal light fixture in both hands. What happened next seemed to move in slow motion.

The janitor let out a cry. I saw the heavy fixture slip from his grasp.

Laura was talking to Cory. She didn't see it fall. It was going to crush her head.

I opened my mouth in a horrified scream.

Cory spun around and caught the light fixture â inches above Laura's head.

Laura toppled back against the wall. Her red hair fell over her face. She uttered a startled gasp.

“Whoa.” On top of the ladder, Mr. Grady shook his head. “Great catch, kid.”

“Just lucky,” Cory said. He flashed the janitor a grin.

Laura brushed the hair from her eyes. “Cory, you â you saved my life,” she stammered. “I mean, really.”

Cory smiled and flashed his dimple. “Just a lucky catch,” he said. He handed the light fixture up to Mr. Grady.

I couldn't help it. As I watched Cory and Laura walk away, I had a few bitter thoughts.

Mainly, I thought:
Why didn't I get a chance to make the catch and impress Laura? How does one guy get to be so lucky?

After school the next afternoon, Coach Taylor called basketball practice. The team plays in late fall. But he likes to get a lot of spring practices in to keep us in shape.

I usually play center and Cory is a forward. That's because my defense is better than his.

Basketball is actually my best sport. Partly because I'm tall and lanky. I'm almost two inches taller than Cory.

Too bad it isn't part of the scholarship competition. The competition sports are tennis, bowling, and football.

But Coach Taylor said our game today was a good warm-up. He said he'd be watching us. Getting an idea of who to keep an eye on.

So the pressure was on. I wanted to look good.

We all dribbled around a bit. Pale sunlight drifted down from the high gym windows.

Some kids hung out at the wall, watching our practice. And I saw some men in ties and dark suits. Two of them wore blue baseball caps.

Coach Taylor waved us over. He's a young dude with very short brown hair and a two-day brown stubble of beard on his cheeks. He wears glasses, and he's short and not very athletic looking.

We think this might be his first job after college. I mean, he almost looks like a teenager except for the stubbly beard. But he's a good guy and a good coach. We all really like him.

“Divide up. Two teams,” he said when we gathered in front of him. “Work hard, guys. Do your best. We've got some people here watching you today.”

He motioned with his head toward the three tall, serious-looking men leaning against the far gym wall. Then he blew his whistle, and we ran out to play a game against each other.

We played hard. It was more intense than a regular practice.

I didn't know who those three guys in suits were. But Coach Taylor seemed to think they were important.

I kept glancing at them during our game. They were giants. I mean, like, seven feet tall. And big. Maybe they were athletes.

Cory and I played on different teams. On defense, we guarded each other. I was having a good game. Cory was having a hard time getting around me.

I stole the ball away from him once. And I messed up a couple of his shots. I was really getting in his face.

But near the end of the game, he got lucky. Big surprise â right?

I saw him coming. He was driving the ball right down the court, coming directly toward me.

I know his moves. He was going to drive straight at me. Give me a fake to the left. Then when I went for the fake, he would swerve around me to the right and take it to the basket.

I'd fallen for that move a lot of times. But not today.

I tightened my leg muscles. Rooted myself to the floor. Stuck my arms out.

He was coming on fast. Pounding the ball on the floor as he ran toward me.

I stuck my arms out farther.
I'm a wall
, I thought.
I'm a wall. You can't get through me.

“Hey!” I uttered a cry as pain shot over my eye.

A bug. Some stupid bug flew into my eye. My eye throbbed.

I ducked my head. Tried to rub the bug away.

But it only made the pain more intense.

Cory came to a hard stop in front of me. He arched his arms â and sent a high layup right over me.

Please, please â don't go in!
I prayed.
Don't go in!

Don't make me look like the biggest loser on the floor.

Please?