SOPHIE DIDN’T SEE MONSTER THE REST OF THE DAY. When the final bell rang, she sprinted to her locker, shoveled in her notebooks, grabbed her backpack, and ran to the bathroom. Hearing a flush, she ducked into a stall and locked the door. She waited while the other girl washed her hands for a ridiculously long time. Sophie wished she could yell at her to hurry up.

Eventually, the other girl left.

“Monster?” Sophie called softly. “Are you ready to go home?” She listened for the sound of his paws above and watched the ceiling tiles, expecting to see one shift. She planned to catch him so he wouldn’t land on the slightly sticky floor. But he didn’t appear.

Someone else came into the bathroom. She waited while the new person used the toilet, flushed, and washed her hands. After she left, Sophie called again, “Monster? I’m here. It’s time to go home. Come on, the bus will be leaving soon!”

Still no answer.

What if he’d been seen? What if he’d been caught? What if the school thought he was a rodent of unusual size and called an exterminator? What if they didn’t think he was a rodent and called some mad scientists who wanted to dissect him? Or the news, who’d want to put him on TV? He’d probably like being on TV, having stylists primp his fur, greeting his adoring fans . . . until the terrified mob showed up.

“Sophie! Stay—”

Monster’s voice! It came from the hall, and it was cut off by the sound of claws scraping on tile, Monster’s growls, and the slam of a door.

She burst out of the stall, out of the bathroom, and into the hallway in time to see Monster bound into a music room. Empty backpack slapping her back, she chased him across the hall.

Inside, a boy was huddled next to a piano. He was covering his head with his arms. Monster was in front of him, tentacles waving in the air, fur standing on end. He was baring his teeth and growling at a lanky, translucent-gray creature that looked like a cross between a giraffe and a man—if a giraffe had razor-like claws instead of hooves.

The creature dodged to the right. As Monster scampered to block him, the creature lunged left. His legs stretched like rubber bands, and his entire body swayed as if he were a balloon. His neck wobbled back and forth.

“Leave him alone!” Sophie picked up one of the chairs and raised it over her head. Ready to swing, she ran toward the gray giraffe-man.

Silently, the gray creature turned toward Sophie. He had no face, just an oval where his face should be. Staring, Sophie slowed.

From behind, Monster leaped at him and sank his teeth into the creature’s ankle. Sophie bashed the chair into its chest. The creature didn’t let out a sound, but its entire body shuddered.

Shaking off Monster, it loped toward the window, using its knuckles like extra feet. As it jumped onto the windowsill, its body shrank and thinned so it looked like a gray shadow. It slid out a gap in the partially open window.

Sophie and Monster ran to the window and watched the creature slither away, flat on the sidewalk. Gray, it blended in with the concrete.

“What was that?” Sophie asked.

“Vicious,” Monster said. “Bad. Slimy. Faceless. I have lots of adjectives but no nouns. Told you to not come out of the bathroom.”

“But what—” Behind her, she heard a whimper. The boy! She’d forgotten about him. She rushed to his side, and he raised his head. Sophie realized she knew him. “Ethan? Are you okay?”

“Uh, hi, Sophie. Is it gone?” Shaking and pale, he used the piano to pull himself onto his feet. “Did you just save my life? You and your—”

“Cat,” Monster supplied. “I’m a friendly housecat.”

“Right.” Ethan’s voice was shrill, as if he wanted to scream but his vocal cords wouldn’t let him. “You and your friendly talking housecat with six arms.”

She guessed it was too late to tell Monster to hide. “Can I convince you you’re dreaming?”

“Sure, it would be nice to be dreaming.” He was clutching the side of the piano with white knuckles, and his eyes flickered around the room as if he was expecting another attack.

Wiggling her fingers, Sophie waved her hands in front of his face. “This is all a very bad dream. None of this happened.”

“But I’m awake.”

“You only think you’re awake. If you were asleep in your dream, it would be a boring dream.” Sophie had seen boring dreams before. She’d also seen dreams in which the dreamer seemed to wake several times, each time believing he was awake for real, until something impossible happened, like a chicken dancing the hokey pokey.

In a low voice, Monster sang, “Do-do, do-do, do-do. Ripple, ripple, ripple . . .”

Both Sophie and Ethan looked at him.

“What are you doing?” Sophie asked.

“Making that dream-sequence sound they do on TV.” He swayed back and forth, repeating the same two notes. “Do-do, do-do, do-do . . .”

“Please, stop,” Sophie said.

“Sorry.” He stopped. “I thought it would help.”

“It doesn’t,” she said, then looked at Ethan hopefully. “Does it?”

“Not so much.”

The bell rang. Last bell before the buses left. Sophie made a quick decision. “You’d better come home with us.” Her parents could decide what to do.

Maybe they’d know what that gray creature was. Was it from a nightmare? Where else could something like that have come from? Did someone dream it to life? Sophie felt a strange flip-flop inside her, as if her heart had done a somersault. Could there be someone else like her out there? She’d thought she was the only one and that Monster was the only monster.

Ethan didn’t move. “Shouldn’t we tell a teacher? Or call the police?”

“You can’t!” She squashed down the instant panic—if he told anyone, they’d find out about Monster. They’d ask questions, and who knew where that would lead? Kneeling, she opened her backpack. Monster crammed himself inside, and she zippered it shut. “Besides, what will you tell them? You were attacked by a gray giraffe that shrank to squeeze out the window and then disappeared down the sidewalk? No one will believe you.” She hoped. Last thing she needed was for more people to find out about Monster. Standing, Sophie picked up the backpack. “Come on.”

“With you? And . . . your cat?”

“Unless you’d rather be on your own when the creature comes back?”

“Let’s go,” Ethan said.

Checking the hallway first, she exited with Ethan behind her. It was impressive—and spooky—how quickly the school emptied out as soon as the bell rang. Crumpled papers, candy wrappers, and other trash lay against the walls like tumbleweeds. Classroom windows were dark. Inside, desks and chairs created ominous shadows. She and Ethan hurried toward the front doors.

Outside, some of the buses were already pulling out of the parking lot. Oh no, Sophie thought. They were late! “Which one is yours?” Ethan asked.

“Fourteen.” She pointed. Its doors were shut, and it was third in line to leave the parking lot. Ethan waved his arms over his head, and they both shouted, “Wait for us!” Ethan put on a burst of speed, sprinting toward it.

As he reached it, the doors opened. He waited for her to catch up. Panting, she reached him, and they clambered on. “Thank you,” Ethan said to the bus driver.

The driver grunted.

Most of the seats were already full. Kids watched them as they came on. Sophie expected Madison to comment on how out of breath she was or how red her face was, but the queen bee wasn’t on the bus. She must have had an after-school activity, like tormenting someone with less-than-perfect hair.

Several boys waved at Ethan. One high-fived him and said, “Nice shot last night.”

“Thanks, man,” Ethan said, as if he hadn’t just been whimpering in a corner after being chased by a horrifying creature that shouldn’t exist.

Sophie slid into an empty seat and put the backpack with Monster on her lap.

Ethan sat down next to her. Across the aisle, two girls whispered and then giggled, looking directly at them. It was as subtle as if they’d waved a sign that read We’re talking about you. Sophie reminded herself she didn’t care, so long as they weren’t talking about Monster.

“So . . . what was that thing?” Ethan asked conversationally. He was, she thought, very good at bottling up his fear. Maybe this was why no one but her had suspected all his visits to the counselor’s office.

She shushed him. “We’ll talk at my house.”

“No one’s paying attention.”

“Are you kidding? Everyone watched us run for the bus, together.”

“Yeah, but no one cares.”

“Everyone cares. It’s middle school. Gossip is practically a gradable subject.”

He fell silent. Both of them looked out the window. Monster huddled motionless and silent within the backpack. This trip, he didn’t ask for a view. The bus passed the post office, as well as a park with a baseball diamond and a convenience store that advertised 50 percent off windshield-wiper fluid and freshly fried corn dogs. Sophie suddenly realized that in the chaos of fighting the gray creature and running for the bus, she’d forgotten entirely about Mr. Nightmare meeting with her parents. It should be all over by now, right? Maybe she shouldn’t have insisted that Ethan come with her. She wanted to ask them what happened.

“What did it want with me?” Ethan asked, breaking the silence.

Sophie glanced around them, but no one was paying attention to her and Ethan anymore. The chatter was loud enough to drown out his voice. “I don’t know. Lunch?” She wished she’d let him go home. Her parents didn’t need a second crisis. But he’d seen Monster. And there was that gray creature, who might or might not have been from a nightmare . . . She couldn’t just let him waltz off and tell his parents all about the crazy day he had. Her parents would convince him to keep their secret. Softly, she asked Monster through the zipper, “Why was that thing attacking Ethan?”

“No idea,” Monster said, muffled. “It’s not like there’s a monster bulletin board where we send messages to each other. I was on my way to meet you, and the boy was waiting for you outside the bathroom when the freaky giraffe attacked. By the way, did you notice he had no face? I’m voting that he breathes through his skin. Like bullfrogs and earthworms.”

Ethan looked pale. Sophie wondered if he was about to faint. She hoped not. She didn’t know what she’d do if he fainted. “There are more monsters?” he squeaked. He cleared his throat and said in a more normal voice, “I mean, that’s cool, if there are more. You know, if they’re friendly or whatever. No offense meant.”

Monster was silent for a moment. “Actually, I thought I was the only one.”

“Guess you aren’t,” Ethan said.

“Indeed,” Monster agreed. “Fascinating.”

“Not the word I’d use,” Ethan said, and Sophie had to agree with that. “Do you really think it wanted to eat me for lunch?” His voice cracked on the last word.

“It didn’t look friendly,” Sophie said.

“Lots of things don’t look friendly but don’t want to eat me. Take your bus driver, for example.” Ethan gestured at him. Stopping at the next bus stop, the driver scowled at the kids as if he was offended they wanted to leave.

“Maybe the driver wants to eat you but is disappointed he can’t?” Monster suggested.

“Not helping,” Sophie told him. She asked Ethan, “Why were you waiting for me?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

She blinked at him. “But we talked at lunch.”

“I wanted to talk to you more. You’re the only one who’s ever noticed . . . Only a few people have ever guessed about the nightmares, and those people are mostly relatives who have heard me wake up screaming.” He spoke so softly that she had to lean toward him to hear. “And all they did was send me to counseling. They never helped, not really. Not the way you did in less than twenty-four hours.”

The bus squealed to a halt at her stop, saving her from having to think of a response. She jumped to her feet with the backpack in her arms. “This is us.”

The kid who had high-fived Ethan called out, “Hey, man, where you going?”

“Sophie’s,” Ethan answered.

“Dude, why?” he asked, and Sophie thought, See? I’m not the only one who thinks this is weird. The school’s new basketball star did not go home after school with the resident weird girl. No one ever went home with Sophie. She’d perfected the art of being friendless.

“I’m helping him with homework,” Sophie said at the same time as Ethan said, “Because she’s cool.”

Feeling her face turn bright red again, Sophie yanked his sleeve toward the front of the bus. The driver glared at them as they got off, and then the doors closed and the bus pulled away. The other kids scattered toward their houses.

“Why did you say that?” Sophie asked.

“Why did you lie?” Ethan countered.

“I wasn’t going to say I was taking you to my parents so we can talk about monsters,” Sophie said. “Why did you lie?”

“I didn’t,” he said. “You are cool. You stopped the nightmares, and you saved me from the whatever-it-was. By the way, did I say thank you for that? Because, thank you. You were amazing. Weren’t you scared?”

She wasn’t used to so many compliments. “Uh, sure. I’m not an idiot.”

Low, so only she could hear him, he confessed, “I was terrified. Not sure I’ve ever been that scared and been awake.”

“That just means you’re not an idiot, either.”

He smiled sunnily. Sophie thought he was the kind of person that the phrase “his smile brightened the room” was invented for. Even though the sun was out, it felt extra sunny when he smiled. If she practiced for hours, she’d never be able to achieve that effect. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day,” he said. “Knew you weren’t as prickly as everyone says.”

“Yes, I am.”

Sophie walked quickly toward the bookshop. Wind whistled down the sidewalk, stirring bits of trash. A few people were around—a woman carrying both a baby and dry cleaning to her car, an elderly man walking a shriveled, fuzzy dog, and the kids from the bus, heading for their own houses. On this street, homes were mixed with shops. She usually liked that, because it meant there were lots of people to watch. She liked to stroll home and imagine what people’s lives were like—and their dreams. But today, she only had eyes for the bookshop.

Ethan hurried to keep up with her. “Do you think it followed us?”

“Hope not.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring.”

She didn’t have anything reassuring to say. Maybe her parents would. The sooner she could reach them, the better. They could talk to Ethan, send him home, and this would be over. She could stop feeling like her stomach was a shaken snow globe.

He caught up with her, walking fast beside her. “Why do I get the feeling that there’s a lot you’re not telling me?”

“Because there is.”

Up ahead was her parents’ bookshop. The lights were on, a warm glow through the windows, and the sign said Open. Mom and Dad would know what to say and what to do. She hoped.