“Where are you going, Elf?” Dad called from the den.

“Don’t call me Elf!” I shouted back. “My name is Drew.”

Dad thinks it’s real cute to call me Elf, but I hate it. He calls me Elf because I’m tiny for a twelve-year-old. And I have short, straight black hair and sort of a pointy chin and a pointy little nose.

If you looked like an elf, would you want people calling you Elf?

Of course not.

One day my best friend, Walker Parkes, heard my dad call me Elf. So Walker tried it. “What’s up, Elf?” Walker said.

I stomped on Walker’s foot as hard as I could, and he never called me that again.

“Where are you going, Drew?” Dad called from the den.

“Out,” I told him, and slammed the front door behind me. I like to keep my parents guessing. I try never to give them a straight answer.

You might say I’m as mischievous as an elf. But if you said it, I’d stomp on your foot, too!

I’m tough. Ask anyone. They’ll tell you that Drew Brockman is tough. When you’re the shrimpiest girl in your class, you’ve got to be tough.

Actually, I wasn’t going anywhere. I was waiting for my friends to come to my house. I walked down to the street to watch for them.

I took a deep breath. The people in the corner house had a fire going in their fireplace. The white smoke floated out from their chimney. It smelled so sweet and piney.

I love autumn. It means Halloween is on the way.

Halloween is my favorite holiday. I guess I like it so much because it gives me a chance to look like someone else. Or something else.

It’s the one night of the year that I don’t have to look like pointy-chinned me.

But I have a problem with Halloween. Two kids in my class are the problem. Tabitha Weiss and Lee Winston.

For the past two years, Tabby and Lee have totally ruined Halloween for Walker and me.

I’m so angry about it. Walker is angry, too. Our favorite holiday ruined because of two stuck-up kids who think they can do whatever they want.

Grrrrrrrr.

Just thinking about it makes me want to punch someone!

My other friends, Shane and Shana Martin, are upset about it, too. Shane and Shana are brother and sister, twins my age. They live in the house next door, and we hang out a lot.

Shane and Shana don’t look like anyone else I know. They both have very round faces with curly ringlets of blond hair. They have red cheeks and cheery smiles, and they’re both short and kind of chunky.

My dad says they’re roly-poly. Dad always thinks of something icky to say about everyone!

Anyway, the twins are as angry as Walker and me about Tabby and Lee. And this Halloween, we’re going to do something about it.

Only we don’t know what we’re going to do.

That’s why they’re coming over to my house to discuss it.

How did the Tabby and Lee problem start? Well, I have to go back two years to explain it to you.

I remember it so clearly.

Walker and I were ten. We were just hanging out in front of my house. Walker had his bike on its side and was doing something to the spokes on one wheel.

It was a beautiful autumn day. Down the block, someone was burning a big pile of leaves. It’s against the law here in Riverdale. My dad always threatens to call the police when someone burns leaves. But I love the smell.

Walker was fiddling with his bike, and I was watching him. I forget what we were talking about. I glanced up—and there stood Tabby and Lee.

Tabby looked as perfect as always. “Little Miss Perfect.” That’s what Dad calls her—and for once, he’s right.

The wind was blowing pretty hard. But her long, straight blond hair stayed in place. It didn’t fly out all over her head like mine did.

Tabby has perfect creamy-white skin and perfect green eyes that sparkle a lot. She’s very pretty, and she knows it.

Sometimes it takes all my strength not to shake both hands in her hair and mess it all up!

Lee is tall and good-looking, with dark brown eyes and a great, warm smile. Lee is African-American, and he sort of struts when he walks and acts real cool, like the rappers on MTV videos.

The girls at school all think he’s terrific. But I can never understand a word he says. That’s because he always has a huge wad of green-apple bubble gum in his mouth.

“Mmmmmbbb mmmmbbbbb.” Lee stared down at Walker’s bike and mumbled something.

“Hey,” I said. “What’s up, guys?”

Tabby made a disgusted face and pointed a finger at me. “Drew, you have something hanging from your nose,” she said.

“Oh—!” I shot my hand up and rubbed the bottom of my nose. Nothing there.

“Sorry,” Tabby snickered. “It only looked like you did.”

Tabby and Lee both laughed.

Tabby is always playing mean jokes like that on me. She knows I’m self-conscious about my looks. So I always fall for her dumb tricks.

“Nice bike,” Lee mumbled to Walker. “How many speeds?”

“It’s a twelve-speed,” Walker told him.

Lee sneered. “Mine is a forty-two-speed.”

“Huh?” Walker jumped to his feet. “There’s no such thing as a forty-two-speed!” he cried.

“Mine is,” Lee insisted, still sneering. “It’s specially made.”

He blew a big green bubble-gum bubble. That’s hard to do while you’re sneering.

I wanted to pop it all over his smug face. But he stepped back and popped it himself.

“Did you get a haircut?” Tabby asked me, studying my windblown hair.

“No,” I replied.

“I didn’t think so,” she said. She smoothed her perfect hair back with one hand.

“Grrrrrrr.” I couldn’t help it. I balled my hands into fists and let out an angry growl.

I growl a lot. Sometimes I don’t even know I’m doing it.

“Mummmmmbb mmmmbbbbb.” Lee said something. Bubble-gum juice ran down his chin.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“I’m having a Halloween party,” he repeated.

My heart started to pound. “A real Halloween party?” I demanded. “With everyone in costumes, and hot apple cider, and games and bobbing for apples, and scary stories?”

Lee nodded. “Yes. A real Halloween party. At my house on Halloween night. You guys want to come?”

“Sure!” Walker and I replied.

Big mistake. Real big mistake.