The Bad Apple [NOOK Book]


“It’s easy to get drawn into this fast-paced, funny, and entertaining adventure” (Publishers Weekly) about a school where making trouble is highly encouraged.

Twelve-year-old Seamus Hinkle is a good kid with a perfect school record—until the day of the unfortunate apple incident.

Seamus is immediately shipped off to a detention facility—only to discover that Kilter Academy ...
See more details below
The Bad Apple

Available on NOOK devices and apps  
  • NOOK Devices
  • Samsung Galaxy Tab 4 NOOK 7.0
  • Samsung Galaxy Tab 4 NOOK 10.1
  • NOOK HD Tablet
  • NOOK HD+ Tablet
  • NOOK eReaders
  • NOOK Color
  • NOOK Tablet
  • Tablet/Phone
  • NOOK for Windows 8 Tablet
  • NOOK for iOS
  • NOOK for Android
  • NOOK Kids for iPad
  • PC/Mac
  • NOOK for Windows 8
  • NOOK for PC
  • NOOK for Mac
  • NOOK for Web

Want a NOOK? Explore Now

NOOK Book (eBook)
$6.99 price


“It’s easy to get drawn into this fast-paced, funny, and entertaining adventure” (Publishers Weekly) about a school where making trouble is highly encouraged.

Twelve-year-old Seamus Hinkle is a good kid with a perfect school record—until the day of the unfortunate apple incident.

Seamus is immediately shipped off to a detention facility—only to discover that Kilter Academy is actually a school to mold future Troublemakers, where demerits are awarded as a prize for bad behavior and each student is tasked to pull various pranks on their teachers in order to excel. Initially determined to avoid any more mishaps, Seamus nonetheless inadvertently emerges as a uniquely skilled troublemaker. Together with new friends Lemon and Elinor, he rises to the top of his class while beginning to discover that Kilter Academy has some major secrets and surprises in store….
Read More Show Less

Editorial Reviews

School Library Journal
Gr 4–7—Twelve-year-old Seamus Hinkle led a fairly ordinary life at a fairly ordinary school until the day he killed his substitute teacher with an apple. The projectile was well intentioned—Seamus was trying to prevent the teacher from getting hurt by intervening in a cafeteria fight—but the result was disastrous. Subsequently, he is shipped off to Kilter Academy for Troubled Youth. Not long after his parents drive away, he learns the truth about Kilter: it's not a reform school, but rather a training academy for future professional Troublemakers; misbehavior is not merely encouraged, it's required. Seamus intends to lie low and try to keep his infamy a secret from his fellow students, but he finds that he excels at being bad, despite his best efforts to behave. He also makes friends at Kilter, and they ask him to join an alliance to scare their history teacher. This first title in a projected series unfolds through Seamus's narration as he navigates the challenges of training to be a Marksman Troublemaker. There's plenty of humor, but the child's conflicted feelings about Kilter and his guilt about the death he caused propel the story as well. Nowhere is his remorse more evident than in the emails he composes to his late substitute teacher. Though some readers may be frustrated by several dangling plot threads, the cliff-hanger ending will have others clamoring for the next title.—Amanda Raklovits, Champaign Public Library, IL
From the Publisher
The Bad Apple

T.R. Burns. S&S/Aladdin, $16.99 (352p) ISBN 978-1-4424-4029-6

In this auspicious first entry in the Merits of Mischief series, 12-year-old Seamus Hinkle is sent to the Kilter Academy for Troubled Youth after he accidentally kills his substitute teacher, Miss Parsippany, with an apple. Upon his arrival, however, Seamus discovers that Kilter is actually a school for professional troublemakers: demerits are awarded for bad behavior, gold stars are looked down on, and students use the skills they’ve learned to trick their teachers. Despite his best efforts (and lingering guilt over the death of Miss Parsippany), Seamus appears to be a natural-born troublemaker. Burns (aka author Tricia Rayburn) has hold of a fantastic premise—what’s not to like about a school where pranks and destruction are encouraged and an arsenal of troublemaking devices are available for purchase? It’s easy to get drawn into this fast-paced, funny, and entertaining adventure, filled with sympathetic, eccentric, and mischievously talented characters. At its heart, it’s a story about the importance of individuality and being a good friend, and a last-minute twist will leave readers hungry for the next book. Ages 8–12.

Publishers Weekly, April 9, 2012

The Bad Apple.

Burns, T. R. (Author)

May 2012. 352 p. Aladdin, hardcover, $16.99. (9781442440296).

Twelve-year-old Seamus has never been in trouble at school, and he certainly never meant to kill his

substitute teacher. But after beaning her with an apple in the middle-school cafeteria, he is sent to Kilter

Academy. Despite outward appearances, Kilter is not your typical reform school but an institution bent on

turning out “Professional Troublemakers.” Seamus has a hard time fitting in, but he quickly grasps the

system (demerits are good, gold stars are bad) and earns praise from the enigmatic headmistress. Although both plot and characterization strain credibility at times, this is still an entertaining, anything-butpredictable chapter book. The plot twists, turns, and contorts, keeping readers as mystified as Seamus about his ever-changing predicaments and the meaning of it all. Not your typical boarding-school story (where else is the protagonist’s roommate a sleepwalking pyromaniac?), this book will amuse many readers, and the surprise ending may create demand for the next volume in the Merits of Mischief series.

Booklist, May 1, 2012

Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781442440319
  • Publisher: Aladdin
  • Publication date: 4/24/2012
  • Series: Merits of Mischief , #1
  • Sold by: SIMON & SCHUSTER
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 352
  • Sales rank: 580,931
  • Age range: 8 - 12 Years
  • File size: 9 MB

Meet the Author

T. R. Burns sometimes writes as Tricia Rayburn. Or does Tricia Rayburn sometimes write as T. R. Burns? You may never know the answer to that, but you can know that this tattler of tales has tattled plenty for tweens and teens. In the small New York town she calls home, it’s the best way to keep idle hands busy—and out of trouble.
Read More Show Less

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

At exactly 11:17 every Fish Stick Tuesday, I raise my hand in algebra class and make a very important announcement.

“Seamus Hinkle,” Mr. McGill will say, peering at me over the tops of his dusty glasses. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“I need to use the restroom,” I’ll say.

“I need to go on a permanent tropical vacation. Is there a pass for that?”

This is Mr. McGill’s idea of a joke. Not bad, considering he’s a math teacher who memorizes pi for fun.

“The period’s almost over,” he’ll continue. “Don’t worry about coming back.”

And this is my idea of the perfect response. Mr. McGill never seems to recall that we’ve had the same exact conversation many times before, and neither do my classmates. Sometimes I think it’d be nice to be more memorable, but on Tuesday mornings, it’s always better to be forgotten.

My routine goes off without a hitch, week after week, until Mr. McGill drops his favorite calculator while taking a bubble bath. According to the e-mail he sends all his students, the calculator no longer multiplies. So he takes the day off to repair it.

And we get a substitute.

Her name’s Miss Parsippany. She has curly blond hair, big blue eyes, and a bad case of first-day jitters. By 10:45 she’s dropped—and broken—eight pieces of chalk. At 10:57 she claps two erasers together to clean them and is nearly suffocated by a thick white cloud. At 11:09 she asks for help setting up the laptop projector, and when no one volunteers, she plugs the inside corners of her eyes with her pinkie and thumb to keep them from leaking.

I feel bad for her, but I’m also encouraged by her fragile emotional state. Every second counts on Fish Stick Tuesdays, so at 11:15—two minutes ahead of schedule—I raise my hand.

“Oh.” Miss Parsippany grabs the edge of the desk when she sees me, like she’s afraid of falling down. “You have a question?”

“I need to use the restroom,” I say.

“But there are”—she sifts through a stack of papers, many of which slip from her grasp and float to the floor—“seven minutes left in this period.”

I grab my backpack and start to stand. “Don’t worry. I’ll just go to lunch from there.”

“You can’t.”

I stop. Miss Parsippany’s watching me, her blue eyes wide, her mouth partially open. At first I think she’s about to be sick in Mr. McGill’s circular file, but then her eyes relax and her mouth closes.

“You can’t,” she says again, her voice firmer.

“But I always do. This time, every Tuesday.”

Her eyebrows lower. “You have to use the restroom at the same time every Tuesday?”

To someone who actually pays attention, I can see how this might sound strange.

“You do,” a low voice says somewhere behind me. “Why is that?”

“Little kid, little bladder,” another voice says, making the room swell with whispers and giggles.

I know those voices. The kids they belong to are the same ones I’m trying to outrun.

“Please,” I say as my face burns. “I really have to go.”

“Well, I’m sorry. You’ve made it this long, you can make it another few minutes.”

Just my luck. Saying no to me is the one thing for which Miss Parsippany feels qualified.

I stand there, unsure what to do. Part of me is tempted to bolt for the door, but a bigger part locks my feet in place.

So I drop back into my chair. I watch the second hand click around the wall clock. And at 11:19 and forty-five seconds, I throw my backpack onto my shoulders and crouch above my seat, one foot in the aisle.

The bell rings. I run—and am immediately stalled by a gaggle of girls. I veer to the left, but the girl on that end flips her hair over her shoulder, and it catches me in the eye. I veer to the right, but the girl on that end is texting and keeps swerving into the narrow open space between her and the wall. I try slipping between the girls in the middle, but they’re packed tightly together, as if connected by their shiny belts and silver hoop earrings.

Eventually, they make a slow turn toward the courtyard, and I dart past them. I move as quickly as I can, but the hallway’s crowded. By the time the cafeteria comes into view, it’s already 11:25—and I’m four minutes behind schedule.

I burst through the doors and then stop short. It’s even worse than I feared. There are at least thirty kids in line—thirty kids I should be in front of. That’s why I leave math early every Tuesday, to get a head start.

And bringing up the rear is my biggest enemy, my arch-nemesis, my worst nightmare—at least on Monday nights.

Bartholomew John.

He’s everything I’m not. Tall. Strong. Able to talk himself out of trouble despite a seriously stunted vocabulary. In fact, there’s only one thing in the entire world that Bartholomew John and I have in common.

Fish sticks.

Not just any fish sticks. The kind Lady Lorraine and the kitchen crew of Cloudview Middle School make, with crunchy outsides, flaky insides, and an aftertaste that lasts for days.

“Want a boost?” Alex Ortiz, Bartholomew John’s sidekick, asks when I come up behind them. He puts one hand on top of the other, palms up, and squats.

“Or a rocket launcher?” Bartholomew John adds without turning around.

I’m standing on my toes to survey the situation up ahead and now drop to my heels. I don’t answer them. They don’t expect me to. We all know that’s not how this works.

It takes eleven agonizing minutes to reach the lunch counter. I try not to stress by focusing on the comforting aromas of grease and salt, but that only reminds me of what I’ll likely be missing.

“It’s fish stick day?” Bartholomew John asks loudly when he’s next in line. “Alex, did you know it was fish stick day?”

“Nope. What an unexpected surprise.”

This exchange is for my benefit. There was an unfortunate incident a few weeks ago, at the beginning of the school year, when Bartholomew John loaded his plate with the last of the fish sticks and I tried to swipe some from his tray. In true Bartholomew John style, he made a big fuss by telling Lady Lorraine, the cafeteria monitors, and eventually the principal that I came up out of nowhere and shoved him aside to steal his food. For extra sympathy points, he added that his family couldn’t afford to go out to eat and that he saved his meager allowance to buy lunch as a special treat.

Never mind that if I tried shoving him aside the force would send me crashing to the floor. Or that both his parents are lawyers. His lie got me after-school detention for the first time ever. The only good thing about the whole situation was that Bartholomew John seemed to forget about it, until today.

Darn that Miss Parsippany.

“This batch is extra yummy,” Lady Lorraine says, sliding a spatula through the tray. “Got distracted by a rat the size of Texas and forgot I had ’em in the fryer.”

“Fantastic.” Bartholomew John grabs the fish sticks she scoops on his plate and shoves them in his mouth.

My chest tightens as she gives him another serving, and another, and another. He clears his plate as fast as she fills it. I manage not to panic until the slick bottom of the tray appears, and then a hot heat shoots from my head to my toes, like I’ve just been dipped in Lady Lorraine’s fish fryer.

“There’s more where that came from,” she says when the tray’s empty.

I fan my face with a stack of napkins. Bartholomew John belches. The sound’s gross but reassuring; I’ve learned from past experience that as delicious as they are, there are only so many fish sticks one human stomach can handle.

“This is it until next week.” Lady Lorraine drops a new tray on the counter.

“Is it fat?”

I tear my gaze away from the fish sticks and look at Alex’s finger, which is pointing to a corner of the kitchen.

“And hairy?” Alex continues. “With a tail that could lasso everyone in this room?”

“It is,” Lady Lorraine says grimly. She tears off her hairnet, grabs a spatula, and spins around.

For a second, I actually believe Alex saw a rat. I’m so busy watching Lady Lorraine creep toward the empty corner that I almost miss what Bartholomew John does next.

He takes a carton of milk. Opens it. And empties it over the remaining fish sticks.

“Calcium.” He crushes the carton in one fist and tosses it on my tray. “Helps you grow.”

I stare at the milk carton. I want to pick it up and hurl it at him, but I know it won’t do any good. Instead I slide my tray past the soggy fish and take my only remaining options: a salad and an apple.

In the cafeteria I sit at an empty table in the back of the room. I take a notebook and pencil from my backpack, push my tray aside, and start a list.


1. Start another list of—

That’s as far as I get before a commotion on the other side of the room makes me look up. Bartholomew John and Alex are standing inches away from three members of the boys’ soccer team. They’re all yelling at the same time, so I can’t tell what they’re arguing about, but I see Bartholomew John shove the team captain, who shoves him back. Alex throws a low punch at another kid, who punches him back. Soon fists and limbs are flying, and students and teachers swarm toward the fight from around the cafeteria.

Troublemakers, I think. Hoping Bartholomew John gets what’s coming, I climb on top of my chair for a better view.

And then I see her. Miss Parsippany. Pushing through the crowd.

She’s going to try to stop them. She managed to say no to me, and now she thinks she can break up a brawl that even the biggest male teachers are afraid to get near.

I usually don’t act without significant forethought, but there’s no time for that now. Keeping my eye on Bartholomew John, I snatch the apple from my lunch tray, bring my arm all the way back, and fling it forward.

In the next instant, the fight’s over.

And Miss Parsippany’s on the floor.

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 5
( 12 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star


4 Star


3 Star


2 Star


1 Star


Your Rating:

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

Barnes & Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

  • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
  • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
  • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
  • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
  • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
  • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
  • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation


  • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Terms of Use.
  • - Barnes & reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
  • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

Create a Pen Name

Your Pen Name is your unique identity on It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

Continue Anonymously
Sort by: Showing all of 12 Customer Reviews
  • Posted May 31, 2012

    Fun read!

    I just finished this as a read aloud to my 5th graders! They all gave it a huge thumbs up! The author leaves them with the greatest cliff hanger at the end of the story - kids were already asking if the next book is out! What a fun, unique, and mischievous book!

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted May 24, 2012

    Pretty good!!

    I enjoyed reading this book it was funny and had a surprise ending you cannot miss:)

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 9, 2014

    Astounding. Absolutely Astounding.

    Very few books ever make it into my favorite books. In fact, only two are. But this book? It blew me away into places I couldn't EVER dream of. T. R. Burns, thank you. For creating a memory and a book worth reading again.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted February 8, 2013


    Its so good, you can imagine it happening in your head!!!! ;)

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted October 20, 2012


    This book is a great read and i hope the next book comes out soon!!!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 27, 2012

    good book

    good book

    1 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 12, 2013


    It was alright kinda confusing didnt get the ending

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted July 16, 2013


    No explanation nessecary.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 2, 2013

    Best book ever

    Best book ever cant whate to read the next one

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted July 11, 2012

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted February 1, 2015

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted September 16, 2013

    No text was provided for this review.

Sort by: Showing all of 12 Customer Reviews

If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
Why is this product inappropriate?
Comments (optional)