I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!

Chapter 650 650: Trip (8)

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Rocky opened his eyes.

The room was very dark, and shadows of furniture made very creepy shapes that reminded him of every creepy ghost story his cousins had ever told him.

His fingers tightened around the edge of his blanket. His warm skin felt colder than usual.

Drip.

Something was dripping. Water? Blood? Ghost slime?

He swallowed hard.

"Kelpie?" he whispered.

No answer.

He turned his head. Kelpie was sleeping soundly in the bed beside him, his hands folded neatly on his chest, his chest rising and falling peacefully. His water droplets had stilled for once, hovering around him like tiny floating stars.

Drip.

Rocky's eyes darted to the window. Nothing. Just darkness and the faint outline of peach trees.

Maybe he should call Boo. That was a good idea. Boo was a ghost. If there was a ghost in the room, Boo could talk to it. Or fight it. Or scare it away.

Or become best friends with it and make the problem worse.

But still. Boo was better than nothing.

"Boo?" he called softly.

No answer.

He sat up and looked around the room. They had set up a small bed for Boo in the corner, but Boo was not there.

Because Boo was Boo. He slept wherever he wanted. Sometimes on the ceiling. Sometimes inside the wall. Sometimes floating in the middle of the hallway like a very confused ghost-shaped balloon.

"Boo!" Rocky called again, louder this time.

The only response was the drip. Drip. Drip.

Rocky pulled his blanket up to his chin. His face, which usually showed very little emotion, was doing its best impression of someone who was very, very scared.

The ghost stories came flooding back.

His cousins, older, meaner, rockier cousins, used to sit around the fire and whisper about the things that came out at night. Ghosts without faces. Spirits that whispered your name. Shadows that reached out and touched your shoulder when you were all alone.

Sometimes his cousins grabbed him from behind and shouted "BOO!" just to watch him jump.

Rocky had never been scared before. Not really. He was a stone spirit. Stone wasn't scared of anything.

But stone was scared of the dark.

Drip.

He looked at Kelpie again. He was sleeping deeply.

He looked at the corner where Boo's bed was. Still empty. Still Boo-less.

He looked at the door. It was closed. It had probably been closed all night. But suddenly, it looked very closed. Very shut. Very much like something could be on the other side.

Rocky took a deep breath.

He was seven years old. He was made of stone. He had survived worm attacks and monster invasions and the time Drake sneezed fire on his favorite rock collection.

He could survive a little drip.

Drip.

He could not survive a little drip.

"Boo!" he whisper-shouted.

Nothing.

He threw his blanket aside and padded across the cold wooden floor. He reached the door and pulled it open.

The hallway was dark too. The moonlight barely reached this far, leaving long shadows across the floor. The other doors were closed. Everyone else was sleeping.

Rocky crept down the hallway, his small hands brushing against the wall.

"Boo," he called softly. "Where are you?"

A creak. Somewhere behind him.

He spun around.

Nothing.

Another creak. Ahead of him.

He spun back.

Still nothing.

Then he heard it. Breathing. Soft, slow, and definitely not his.

Rocky's heart skipped a beat.

"Boo?" he whispered.

The breathing continued.

He followed the sound to the kitchen. The door was slightly open. He pushed it.

Moonlight flooded the room, silver and cold. The pots hung from their hooks. The dishes were stacked neatly by the sink. The table was empty.

And floating in the middle of the kitchen, upside down, with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed, was Boo.

He had one leg hooked over the chandelier. His other leg was bent at the knee. His cap had fallen off and was resting on the floor beneath him.

He was snoring. Soft little ghost snores that sounded like wind through leaves.

Rocky stared at him.

"Boo," he said.

No answer.

"Boo!"

Boo's eyes fluttered open. He blinked. He looked at Rocky. He looked at the ceiling. He looked at his own upside-down reflection in the window.

"Oh," Boo said. "Hello."

"Why are you sleeping in the kitchen?"

"The moonlight is better here."

"You're upside down."

"The moonlight is upside down here."

Rocky rubbed his forehead. "There's a dripping sound. I'm scared."

Boo tilted his head, which, since he was upside down, looked very strange. "Dripping?"

"Yes."

Boo listened. Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Oh," Boo said. "That's the sink. Felix didn't turn it off all the way."

Rocky stared at him. "The sink."

"Yes."

"Not a ghost?"

"Ghosts don't drip. We float. Or hover. Occasionally we ooze, but only on special occasions."

Rocky's shoulders sagged. "It was the sink."

"Just the sink."

Rocky sat down on the floor, his stone body making a soft thunk. "I woke up and it was dark. And I thought about ghost stories. And I couldn't find you."

Boo unhooked his leg from the chandelier and floated right side up. His cap drifted up from the floor and settled on his head.

"You were scared," Boo said.

"Yes."

"You came to find me."

"Yes."

"Because I'm a ghost." So maybe you can scare off some evil ghosts."

Boo puffed out his chest. "I'm the best ghost."

"You're the only ghost."

"Still the best."

Boo floated over to the sink and turned off the dripping water. The sound stopped. The kitchen was silent.

"Better?" Boo asked.

Rocky nodded. "Better."

"Do you want me to sleep in your room?"

Rocky hesitated. "You don't have to—"

"I want to. Your room has better vibes. The kitchen vibes are... damp."

Boo floated past Rocky and down the hallway. Rocky followed him, his stone feet silent on the wooden floor.

They reached the bedroom. Kelpie was still sleeping, still peaceful, still completely unaware that Rocky had been gone.

Boo floated up to the ceiling and positioned himself above Rocky's bed.

"Is this good?" Boo asked.

"Yes."

"If you get scared again, just look up. I'll be here."

"What if you float away?"

"I don't float away. I drift. There's a difference."

Rocky climbed back into bed and pulled the blanket up to his chin. He looked up at Boo, floating above him like a very small, very translucent guardian angel.

"Boo?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Boo smiled. "That's what friends are for."

Rocky closed his eyes.

The room was still dark. But somehow, it didn't feel as scary anymore.