The Boy Next Door
Author: R. L. Stine
Date: 1996-06-15 23:29:21+00:00
Keywords: Horror; Thrillers & Suspense; General; Romance; Juvenile Fiction; Young Adult Fiction; Speculative
Description: In this addition to the Free Street series, Lauren and Crystal are blinded by the handsome new football star that’s moved in next door… but behind his All Star image are the terrifying secrets of his past. Lauren and Crystal think Scott has it all. He’s handsome, he’s the new star of Shadyside High’s football team, and he’s moved in right next door. Now, both girls will do, say, and try anything to get the chance to go out with him. That’s all either of them want. But that’s all Scott’s last girlfriend wanted too—and now she’s dead.
Publisher: Simon and Schuster

I stared into my girlfriend's open grave.

"My friends, how can we comfort ourselves after such a loss?" Reverend Morrissey asked. "A young girl, her whole life ahead of her, taken from us in a senseless accident."

I felt tears sting my eyes. I didn't want to cry. Not with my parents, Dana's parents, and all of our friends standing there.

I forced myself to gaze at the reverend. I focused on his mouth opening and shutting, opening and shutting, as he talked about Dana.

What does he know about her? I thought. I'm the only one who really knew Dana.

The reverend's words started to run together. His voice faded. What was he saying? I couldn't understand him.

I'm losing it, I thought. It's too much. It's all too much.

I threw myself down beside the grave.

Why, Dana? Why?

I stared into the deep hole. It's so dark down there, I thought. So dark.

It reminded me of the night Dana died . . .

The night was hot—over a hundred degrees and humid. I talked Dana into sneaking over to my neighbors' yard to use their pool. The house stood empty. The backyard dark and silent.

We stripped down to our bathing suits. Then I grabbed Dana's hand and led her over to the pool—a black hole in the darkness.

Dana climbed up the ladder to the diving board. She turned and waved. I could barely see her face, but I could tell she was smiling. I waved back.

The board creaked loudly as she took three steps and sprang high in the air. Dana did a perfect swan dive.

She hit the cement bottom of the pool headfirst.

I stood very still for a minute, listening. Then I carefully climbed down into the empty pool. I knelt beside Dana on the hard cement.

She was still breathing. Her eyes were open and shiny in the darkness. Gazing up at me.

Thick purple blood oozed out of her head. It smelled like metal.

I watched her.

Waited until she took her last breath. Then I screamed for help.

Now I stared down into Dana's open grave. Someone grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to my feet. I heard the mourners crying behind me.

I pushed the memories of that night away as I watched the funeral workers. They used a big metal winch to lower Dana's coffin into the ground.

Oh, Dana! Why did you make me do it? Why did you make me kill you?

No, I scolded myself.

No. No way.

I didn't kill her. I didn't! I knew the swimming pool was empty—but I didn't push Dana. She dove in all by herself.

I glanced around at the people surrounding the grave. No one suspects me, I told myself. Everyone feels sorry for me. It is the perfect . . .

I started to say "crime." But it's not a crime at all.

It had to be done. I had no choice. Anyone would agree with me.

When I first started going out with Dana, she seemed like such a nice girl. Such a sweetheart. I loved her so much. But then she went over the line.

Way over.

She started dressing in those short skirts. Wearing all that makeup. Acting so wild, so disgusting.

Oh, Dana! That was no way to behave. No way to behave!

Dirt and pebbles showered onto the coffin as the workers filled the hole.

Next time I'll know better, I decided. Next time I'll stay far away from girls like Dana Potter. Girls who don't know how to behave.

Because I don't want to watch another girlfriend die in front of my eyes.

I don't.

would look great on Crystal. She claimed it would bring out the red highlights in Crystal's wavy auburn hair.

So Crystal tried it. And liked it.

Crystal wandered back into her room. "Hey, do you realize what day tomorrow is?"

"Uh, Monday?" Lynne joked.

"First day of our junior year," Crystal answered, flopping down on her bed.

Maybe it was silly, but she felt so excited. This would be a big year for her. She could feel it.

"Yeah, I know. Junior year," Lynne replied glumly.

"Well, you sure sound thrilled." Crystal shoved a pile of magazines onto the floor so she could get more comfortable.

Lynne sighed.

"What's your problem?" Crystal asked.

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that," Crystal said.

She knew Lynne's moods—and Lynne knew hers. They could never hide anything from each other.

They had met in the third grade. The year Crystal's dad died in a car accident. The year their mother moved Crystal and her older sister Melinda to the town of Shadyside, to their little house on Fear Street.

On that first day at her new school, Crystal stood on the playground, wishing she had someone totalk to. Then Lynne burst straight into her. Chasing after some boy, Crystal remembered.

Some things never change, she thought.

They ended up at the nurse's office. Crystal with a bloody nose. Lynne with a big bump on her forehead. They had been best friends ever since.

"Come on, Lynne. Tell me what's wrong," Crystal prodded, switching the phone to her other ear.

"I feel like I'm never going to meet a guy who really interests me. Someone I want to be with," Lynne complained.

I know the feeling, Crystal thought. She wanted to meet someone, too. Someone special. "I guess you didn't have a great time with Kyle last night," she said.

"We don't have the right chemistry or something," Lynne replied.

"But he's a really nice guy," Crystal pointed out.

"Yeah," Lynne agreed. "But he's a lousy kisser."

"Huh? Tell me!" Crystal urged.

"His lips are too wet. He practically drools on you."

They both shrieked. Crystal kicked her feet up and down on the bed. Gross!

"And then there's Jake," Lynne went on. "He calls me about ten thousand times a day."

"Jake's a sweetheart," Crystal said.

"I know," Lynne answered glumly.

"Oh, you don't like anyone who likes you," Crystal accused.

"Would you go out with Jake?" Lynne cried.

Crystal thought about it. She liked hanging out with Jake. She even liked his rotten jokes. Yeah, Jake was a good friend, she thought. But she couldn't imagine him as a boyfriend. "No," Crystal admitted. "I guess not."

"Half the good-looking guys in Shadyside are dying to go out with me. But I don't know. They all bore me," Lynne moaned.

Crystal rolled her eyes. Lynne loved to complain and brag at the same time. Half the good-looking guys? Yeah, right!

"You'll meet someone," Crystal promised.

"The way you did?" Lynne teased.

Crystal sat up and wiggled her feet. Good color, she thought, staring at her freshly painted toenails. "This is my year to find the perfect boyfriend," she announced.

"At Shadyside High? Good luck," Lynne replied.

Toes are done. Now for the fingers, Crystal thought. She scanned the room, trying to find her favorite nail polish.

Her room was a disaster area, as usual. Clothes, books, old dolls she kept meaning to throw out, letters, magazines, and other assorted junk cluttered the floor, the bed, the chair, and the desk.

I'll clean this place up, she promised herself. Sometime.

"Hey," Lynne said, "have you seen your new neighbors yet?"

Crystal carried the cordless phone to the window. "Nope. Just the moving men and a lot of furniture. Those guys are drowning in sweat, lugging that stuff in this heat."

"Are any of them cute?" Lynne asked.

"Whoa. Wait a minute," Crystal said. "I see something."

"The neighbors?" Lynne demanded.

"Shiny blue station wagon," Crystal reported. "They're parking. Okay, now the doors are opening and . . . here comes Mom. Dad. Both pretty tall. Good-looking. And the teenage son is . . . is . . ."

"Tell me!" Lynne insisted.

"Oh, wow," Crystal whispered.

"Crystal! What? Tell me!" Lynne demanded.

"He is totally to die for," Crystal said.

"Details. I need details," Lynne urged.

Crystal leaned out the window to see better. "He's about our age. Tall. Kind of athletic-looking. Short brown hair. He sort of reminds me of Keanu Reeves."

She watched the boy smile and laugh as he talked with the movers. Then he crossed the lawn and disappeared into the house.

"Show's over," Crystal announced. "He went inside. But—wow!"

"Okay," Lynne said, "you can stop faking. I'm not buying it. He's a total creep, right?"

"You aren't going to believe this," Crystal whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Lynne asked. "He can't hear you. Unless he has X-ray ears."

"You're never going to believe this," Crystal repeated. "Guess which room this guy has!"

"No way!" Lynne squealed.

"Yeah. His bedroom is right across from mine." Crystal stepped back from the window and peered out from behind the curtain.

She felt a little guilty about spying on her new neighbor. But she couldn't resist.

"Can you still see him?" demanded Lynne.

"Uh-huh." Crystal watched the boy heft a cardboard box onto his bed. She could see his muscles moving underneath his T-shirt.

"Oh, no. He's taking off his T-shirt!" Crystal said. She dropped the curtain.

"Tell me!" Lynne demanded.

"I'm not going to watch," Crystal protested. "I already feel like a Peeping Tom."

"Oh, come on. It's his shirt. Even your sister Melinda has seen a guy without a shirt," Lynne complained.

Crystal peeked out the window again. The boy sat on his bed, pulling clothes out of the cardboard box. "His stomach has those washboard ridges," she said. "He must do a million sit-ups. And—"

Uh-oh.

The boy stood up quickly. He strode to the window.

And stared out.

Had he seen her?

The boy had pulled his shade all the way down.

"His shade is down," Crystal said. "That proves it. He caught me."

"So what?" Lynne demanded.

"So what?" Crystal cried. "What am I supposed to say when I meet him? 'Oh, hi. I'm Crystal—the girl you caught spying on you the other day?' That will make a great impression."

Why did I have to spy on him? Crystal thought. A major babe moves in right next door, and I blow it.

Lynne snorted. "If he's that great, he must be used to girls staring at him."

"He is. He is that great!" Crystal said solemnly.

Maybe he is the guy I'm supposed to meet this year, she thought. The boy next door.

The girl next door. Who does she think she is? Staring into my bedroom. Wearing that low-cut leotard and those jeans. Red lipstick smeared over her lips.

Disgusting.

I watched the girl giggling away as she talked on the phone. She's pretty, I admitted to myself. High cheekbones like a model. Wavy red-brown hair down to her shoulders.

Sure, girls like that are always pretty. They know you can't resist them. And they love it!

What bad luck. What bad, bad, bad, bad luck. My family moves away from Harris. Away from the town where Dana Potter lived. And what happens?

We end up next door to a girl exactly like her!

Well, I'll keep my distance. I won't let anything bad happen.

I won't.

I won't!

What happened with Dana. . . . That was a onetime thing. A freak accident.

Yes.

I'll—I'll keep my distance. And this time . . .

I stared down at my hands. They were shaking. I shoved them into my jeans pockets.

This time I'll be fine, I told myself.

No accidents this time.

From now on, no one has to die.

peered over them at Crystal. "You like?" she asked, shaking her braids.

"Excellent!" Crystal gushed.

"So why do you look disappointed?" Lynne asked.

"I kind of hoped you were someone else," Crystal confessed.

"Ah." Lynne nodded. She glanced over at the house next door. "I know who you mean."

Crystal giggled. "Come on in."

"You are so lucky living so close to him," Lynne said.

"Yeah, right." Crystal rolled her eyes. She led Lynne into the kitchen. "I've seen him a total of five times and said about six words to him."

Not much progress, Crystal thought. All she'd found out so far was his name.

Scott. Scott Collins.

Crystal grabbed a pint of Haagen-Dazs Triple Brownie Overload out of the freezer, and got two spoons.

"You read my mind," Lynne said. She wandered over to the kitchen window and peered out at Scott's house.

"He's going to think I'm spying on him again," Crystal said as she moved up beside Lynne, carrying the ice cream carton.

"Aren't you?" Lynne teased.

They stared over at Scott's house, spooning up bites of the ice cream. "Guess what Jake told me," Lynne whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Crystal whispered back.

Lynne laughed. "I don't know," she admitted. "Scott is going to be starting tail back on the football team. Jake says the Tigers could be state champs with Scott on the team."

They stared out the window in silence.

"Hey, Lynne, nice to see you!"

Crystal jumped. She turned around and found her mother standing there.

"Hi, Mrs. Thomas," Lynne said. "How are you?"

Mrs. Thomas filled the teakettle at the sink and turned on one of the gas burners on the stove. She glanced over at the two girls.

"You two are very dressed up," she commented. "Is there some party I don't know about?"

Crystal and Lynne both laughed. "Nope. No party," Crystal replied.

Crystal turned her eyes to Lynne. That slip dress was new, she thought. Lynne probably went shopping for something that would grab Scott's attention.

Mrs. Thomas smiled at them. "In-joke, huh?"

Crystal nodded. Her mom could be cool. She didn't have to know every single thing the way some of her friends' moms did.

"So what are you doing today?" Crystal asked her mother.

"Me?" Mrs. Thomas appeared surprised by the question. "I don't know. The usual."

Crystal knew what that meant. Mom would be hanging around the house. Alone.

Crystal felt a familiar pang. She wished her mom would find a friend. Mrs. Thomas hadn't been on a date—not a single one—since Crystal's dad had died.

And she is so pretty, Crystal thought. She had bright green eyes and wavy auburn hair—just like Crystal's. I bet a lot of men would want to go out with her. If she acted halfway interested.

Mrs. Thomas chatted with the girls while she brewed her tea, then she made her way out of the room. Crystal heard the TV go on in the den.

"Every girl at Shadyside is talking about Scott," Lynne told her as they returned to their spot in front of the window. "Everyone is wondering who he will ask out."

Crystal heard the stairs creak. A few seconds later, her sister Melinda shuffled into the room.

"Oh, hi," Melinda said, surprised to see Lynne.

"Hey, Mel," Crystal said. "Come on in."

Melinda crossed to the sink, pulled a glass out of the dish rack, and filled it from the tap.

Lynne hadn't even bothered to say hello to Melinda, Crystal noticed. Crystal scowled at Lynne.

"Hey, Melinda," Lynne said.

An awkward silence filled the room as Melinda drank. "How's it going?" she asked Lynne finally.

"Oh, hey, I almost forgot," Lynne said, turning

back to Crystal. "Guess who I ran into at the gym this morning? You'll never guess. Todd Warner."

Uh-oh, thought Crystal. She glanced over at Melinda. Her sister frowned at her. It's not my fault Lynne is bringing Todd up, Crystal thought miserably.

"Oh, you saw Todd?" Crystal asked, trying to sound bored. She wished Lynne would drop the whole topic.

"He's going to Warfield Academy now," Lynne went on. "But you should have heard the way he kept asking about you, Crystal. He's still got a thing for you, for sure."

Last year, Crystal remembered, Melinda had a major crush on Todd. Not that she gave him the tiniest hint that she liked him. Then Todd asked Crystal out . . . and Melinda got furious.

"Did I say something wrong?" Lynne asked, glancing back and forth between Crystal and Melinda.

"No," Melinda said stiffly. "Crystal is embarrassed because she stole Todd away from me."

"No way, Melinda!" Crystal protested. She knew she should let the subject drop, but she couldn't. "I didn't steal him. I met him at the mall a couple of times. Then he asked me out. What did you want me to do?"

"You weren't interested in him. You only—" Melinda stopped herself. She pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "Let's forget it, okay?" she said.

"Fine," Crystal agreed quickly.

A long, tense silence followed.

"Soooo, Melinda," Lynne finally said. "What do you think about your new neighbor?"

Melinda blushed.

What a sad case, thought Crystal. Melinda blames me for stealing Todd. But she is so shy around guys, she can't even talk about them without getting all embarrassed.

And her clothes. How could she expect to attract a guy's attention in those awful brown sweaters and sloppy, wrinkled jeans? It's as if she were terrified of looking good, Crystal thought.

"Scott is pretty good-looking," Melinda admitted.

"Mel has an English class with Scott," Crystal told Lynne.

Lynne's eyes widened. "You have a class with him? No way! You get to see him every single school day? What's he like?"

Melinda shrugged. She took another long drink of water before she answered. "He seems nice. I don't know. He's pretty quiet. Keeps to himself."

"Well, I'm telling you right now," Lynne said. "I'm going out with that guy."

Crystal shook her head. "Then you'll have to come along with Scott and me. And the rest of Shadyside High!" She laughed.

"Okay. So we're both hot for his bod!" Lynne exclaimed.

Crystal saw Mel blush again. She turned to

Lynne. "Well, so we don't hurt our friendship or anything, I think we should agree on some rules. You know, right from the start."

"Okay," Lynne agreed cheerfully. "Like what?"

"Rule number one," Crystal said. "No matter which one of us goes out with him—you or me . . . or Melinda—"

"Oh, please," Melinda groaned. "I don't have a chance with a guy like that."

"That's not true," Crystal protested. She hated it when Melinda put herself down that way. Sure, Melinda was plain, and shy, and kind of drab. But she could have a shot at any guy if she made the effort.

"It is true," Melinda insisted, staring into the water glass. She turned and set the glass in the sink. It fell over with a tinkling crash.

Crystal glared at her. "You don't even try!" Crystal insisted. "Can I tell you one little thing that would make a big difference? I'm not saying put on nail polish. But you could at least trim your nails and—"

"Crystal, please—" Melinda warned her.

Crystal sighed. "Okay. Sorry."

She turned back to Lynne. "So, no matter which one of us goes out with him, you, me, or Melinda"—she gave her sister a big cross-eyed smile, and Melinda laughed—"the other two will swear and promise that we will be really, really happy for the other person. What do you say?"

"Agreed," Lynne said.

Melinda didn't bother to answer.

"Rule number two," Crystal continued, holding up two fingers. "No dirty tricks. No trying to mess each other up."

Lynne clapped. "We'll have ourselves a little contest!" she exclaimed.

"Well," Melinda said, "I'm going back to my book."

"What are you reading?" Crystal called. She didn't want Melinda to think she had to leave.

Melinda answered without glancing back. "Pride and Prejudice."

Lynne followed Melinda out of the kitchen. "I'll be right back," she called to Crystal. "I have to use the bathroom."

She stopped at the door and turned back. "Oh, yeah, I forgot. I brought you something. Try this."

She tossed a small object at Crystal. Crystal caught it. A new tube of lipstick. Mocha Mirage.

"Thanks," Crystal called after Lynne.

She uncapped the tube and rolled up the lipstick. The glossy coffee color appeared tasty enough to eat. Crystal applied a layer to her lips, peering at her reflection in the oven door.

Crystal suddenly had the feeling that someone was watching her. She glanced over her shoulder. "Lynne?" she called.

No one there.

She peered out the small window over the sink.

Scott stood in his backyard—staring through the window at her! He held a hoe in one hand. They must be planting a garden, Crystal thought.

She managed a smile. And a wave. Maybe he is interested in me, Crystal thought.

To her shock, she saw a disgusted expression cross Scott's face.

He raised the hoe high over his head in both hands.

Then slammed it down to the ground!

Slammed it down again. Again.

Crystal gasped. "What is his problem?" she murmured out loud.

What was wrong with him?

Short, stocky Jake played fullback for the Tigers. So he had to be tough on the football field. The rest of the time he acted sweet—and a little goofy.

Lynne said hi to him, then quickly turned to Scott. "I'm Lynne Palmer. And I just want to say . . . whatever bad stuff Jake's told you about me, it's all true." She laughed.

Scott laughed too. "Okay," he muttered awkwardly.

"Hey, Lynne, I didn't say anything bad about you," Jake insisted. "I didn't say anything about you at all!" He slapped Scott a high-five.

"Hi." Crystal walked around the table. Her salad plate rattled on her tray. She sat down across from Lynne, Jake, and—

Scott. He raised his eyes to her.

Jake followed Crystal's gaze. "Uh, Scott," he said, leaning forward so he could see past Lynne. "Do you know Crystal?"

"My new neighbor." Scott flashed a grin. "Yeah, we've seen each other around." He met Crystal's gaze, his dark eyes glinting. "But I didn't know your name," he admitted.

"It's Crystal. Crystal Thomas," she told him.

Great. Now I have spoken ten words to him, she thought. Why can't I think of something interesting to say?

"You moved into that house on Fear Street, didn't you?" Jake asked Scott. "I hate to tell you this, Scott, but your parents got royally suckered on that deal. Fear Street is cursed, man. I'm serious."

Scott didn't appear too worried. "I like it pretty well so far," he replied. He glanced over at Crystal again.

Maybe he doesn't hate me after all, Crystal thought. He probably didn't even see me on Sunday. He must have been angry at something else when he kept slamming that hoe into the ground.

Probably a fight with his parents, she decided. After a fight with her mom, Crystal usually felt like smashing something. Or everything!

"Have you heard some of the weird stories about Fear Street?" Jake asked Scott.

Lynne wriggled closer to Scott. She rested her hand lightly on his arm. "Scott doesn't care about any stupid rumors, right?"

How can Lynne flirt that way? Crystal asked herself. I'd feel like an idiot.

She noticed Scott ease his arm away from Lynne's hand. Good, Crystal thought.

"Hey, you get the message that I called last night?" Jake asked Lynne.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Lynne answered. "Sorry I didn't call you back. I ... uh ... got hung up."

Lynne took a sip of her diet iced tea, then put the bottle back on her tray—and slapped her forehead. "Oh, Scott, I remembered what I wanted to tell you. My parents are going to some dumb office party this Sunday. And, well, we've got a swimming pool in the backyard. They're going to be draining it soon for the winter. So I'm having a bunch of people over. I want you to come."

Unbelievable, Crystal thought. The girl has no fear. She meets him for five seconds, then invites him over.

Lynne was going to win the contest right now. On her first try.

"Excuse me?" Scott mumbled, as if he hadn't heard a word she said.

"She wants you to come over," Jake told Scott. Crystal saw the hurt on Jake's face.

"Lynne," Crystal said, nodding her head at Jake.

Lynne turned, noticed the expression on Jake's face. "You come, too, of course," she told him, patting his cheek.

"Excellent!" Jake declared, happy again.

Lynne turned back to Scott. He stared down at his plate. Clutching his metal knife and fork as he struggled to cut a piece of the purplish meat they called Minute Steak at the Shadyside High lunchroom.

"Well. . ." he started, working the knife back and forth through the meat. "I'd love to come—"

"Great," Lynne interrupted.

"—But I can't on Sunday," Scott continued.

Yessss! All right! Crystal thought. She couldn't help it. She was happy Scott had turned Lynne down.

A cheer went up from the other side of the room. For one second, Crystal thought someone was cheering for her. Then she realized the cheerleaders had started one of their lunchtime pep rallies.

"Oh, I'm really sorry," Lynne purred, placing her hand back on his arm.

Scott stared at Lynne's hand resting on his bare skin. Stared at it. Stared at it.

Crystal gasped as she saw him raise his knife high in the air!

"Melinda?" Crystal knocked on her sister's door. "You busy?"

Melinda cleared her throat. "No, come on in."

Crystal opened the door. Melinda lay curled up on her bed, reading.

It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon, Crystal thought. We should both be out doing something. Anything.

Instead, Crystal had wasted most of the day, thinking about Scott, daydreaming, wondering if he'd ever call her.

"What are you reading?" Crystal asked her sister.

Melinda closed her book. "Jane Eyre."

"I thought you finished that," Crystal said.

"I'm reading it again," Melinda explained. "It's so romantic." Her expression changed. "Crystal! What's that on your toes?"

Crystal raised her leg so high she almost lost her balance. She wiggled her toes, the black nail polish glistening. "Night of Passion. Isn't it way cool?"

Melinda rolled her eyes.

"Okay, okay," Crystal said. "I think it's cool." She slumped down in Melinda's desk chair and gazed over the neatly organized desk.

Aren't sisters supposed to be alike? Crystal thought. Melinda and I are complete opposites. Crystal's desk was so cluttered, she couldn't even find it!

Crystal rested her head in the middle of Melinda's desk. Then picked her head up again.

"So, have you gotten to know our neighbor at all?" Crystal asked, trying to sound casual. "From English class, I mean."

Melinda sat up and crossed her legs. "A little," she replied.

A little?

The back of Crystal's neck began to itch. What if Melinda had talked to Scott more than she had? It wouldn't be hard. Crystal herself was only up to sixty-one words with the guy.

"I mean, I haven't actually talked to him or anything," Melinda added.

Crystal felt her whole body relax.

"But he's answered a few questions in class. I don't know. This could be totally off the wall. But I get the feeling he's sad about something," Melinda said. "As if he's trying to get over something. You know. Maybe something in his past."

Crystal chuckled. "Mel, you and your mind-reading games," she said, shaking her head.

Melinda's eyes flashed behind her glasses. "You know my premonitions are usually right," she said softly.

Wow, Crystal thought. What if Melinda is right? What if Scott has some kind of secret past?

Crystal sprang up and started pacing. "This is so stupid," she said. "You know how Lynne and I started a little game about who he's going to ask out first?"

Melinda stared at her blankly. "Yes," she finally answered.

"Yeah, well, he hasn't asked me out yet, in case you hadn't noticed," Crystal said bitterly.

"It hasn't been long," Melinda told her.

"It's been two weeks," Crystal said. "Two weeks. I know he likes me. I can feel it! I can. But if he likes me, why doesn't he call? Why?"

"You're scaring me?" Melinda cried.

"Lynne is going to win," Crystal declared miserably. "I know it! Whenever she sees Scott, she always goes right up to him and talks to him."

Crystal swept a hand back through her auburn hair. "Why can't I be more like Lynne? That girl has zero inhibitions."

"Oh, right," Melinda said sarcastically. "And I suppose you're shy?"

"Compared to Lynne? Yes! She is so much more popular than I am, it's unbelievable. Do you know that three different guys asked her to go out this weekend? Three!"

"And you're a hermit," Melinda murmured sarcastically.

Crystal squeezed her hands into fists. "Want to know how many calls I've gotten from guys this entire week? I'll tell you how many. One."

"Oh, please," Melinda groaned. "Spare me."

Whoops. Melinda is getting really jealous, Crystal realized. What's wrong with me? How could I complain to her about my social life?

Melinda would be ecstatic to have one guy call her. And she is a year older. That has to hurt, Crystal thought.

"Mel?" Crystal asked.

"What?"

"You like Scott, too, don't you?"

Melinda didn't answer. She swung her legs off the side of her bed. "I've never even talked to him," she said finally.

"I know," Crystal said. "What difference does that make?"

"What difference does that make?" Melinda shook her head. "How could I possibly know if I like him if I haven't talked to him?"

"Mel," Crystal said gently, "you don't have to talk to a guy to know if you like him. It's a feeling you get. You know."

"No. I don't know," Melinda said, almost in a whisper.

Don't say anything else, Crystal ordered herself. Don't stick your foot in your mouth again. Don't make Melinda feel even worse.

Crystal heard the phone ring in her room. She didn't move.

"You're not going to get it?" Melinda asked.

"Why should I? It's not him," Crystal muttered.

Please be him, she silently begged. Please. Please.

Sighing, Melinda pushed herself off the bed and headed across the hall to Crystal's room. Crystal watched her sister searching through the mess for the small white cordless phone.

"Hello?" Melinda said. "Oh, hi. Lynne? You think this is Crystal, don't you? No, it's Melinda. Yes, I swear."

Melinda frowned as Crystal hurried into the room and grabbed the phone from her. Crystal knew that few people could tell their voices apart, not even Lynne. People were always confusing them on the phone.

Crystal watched her sister pick up her book, cross the hall to her room, and flop back down on her bed. Then Crystal pushed her door shut with her toe.

"Hey. What's going on?" Crystal asked Lynne. She kept her voice cheerful and casual, but inside she braced herself. She expected to hear Lynne announce that she had won their contest.

Remember rule number one? Crystal asked herself. Being happy for whoever went out with him?

Rule number one seemed to have flown out the window.

"Nothing's going on," Lynne said. "Nothing." She sounded glum.

Crystal sprawled on her back and gazed up at the ceiling. "Sounds like my day," she said.

"He hasn't called you either?" Lynne asked nervously.

"Nope."

"What is it with this guy? I put a Valentine's Day card in his locker yesterday," Lynne admitted. "I knew he would call after that. But he didn't."

"A Valentine's Day card?" Crystal laughed. "It's still September," she reminded Lynne.

"So, I gave it to him a little early. I mean, what does this guy want, anyway?"

"I talked to Jake about him," Crystal confessed. 'They've been hanging out a lot."

"Jake? Get out," Lynne said.

"I'm serious. They are buds now."

"Get out, get out, get out. I can't believe Jake didn't tell me," Lynne squealed.

"Lynne, you haven't been so incredibly nice to Jake," Crystal reminded her. "And he has a huge crush on you. Why would he talk to you about other guys?"

"I know. I'm awful. So what did Jake say about Scott?" she asked eagerly.

"Nothing," Crystal answered.

"Nothing?"

"All he says is that Scott is a great guy and a great tail back," Crystal said.

"I'm going to call Jake right now and make him tell me something useful about the guy," Lynne vowed. She hung up without saying good-bye.

Crystal wandered out into the hall. Melinda's door stood open, but she wasn't in her room. Crystal heard footsteps overhead. The attic. Why did Melinda go up to the attic? she wondered.

She heard a thump-thump from the porch. Mail is here. Crystal trotted down the stairs, opened the front door, and scooped up the mail.

Bills for Mom, she saw as she returned inside. She propped them against the big china vase on the side table. And two more Ivy League colleges writing to Melinda. Plus—

What's this? Who ordered a magazine called

American Family? Crystal had never even heard of it.

The magazine was shrink-wrapped in clear plastic. A beautiful blond, All-American-type family grinned out at her from the cover. She flipped the magazine over. Studied the mailing label.

MR. MICHAEL COLLINS

3618 FEAR STREET

The mailman had made a mistake. Crystal lived at 3616 Fear Street. She was about to toss the magazine on the side table when—

She stopped cold. She checked the mailing label again. The address.

Mr. Collins. That must be—

Scott's father.

She looked up. Trembling. For some reason she suddenly thought someone was staring down at her from the second-floor landing.

She felt so excited. This was perfect.

Just as Lynne had said. Crystal had a big advantage, living right next door to Scott. And now, with this magazine, she could use that advantage to the fullest.

It will be easy to return the magazine to him and start up a conversation, Crystal told herself. And maybe while I'm there, I'll ask Scott to the movies. Or to Pete's Pizza.

All this sitting around, daydreaming and waiting for him to call—it was all out of some ancient Nick-at-Nite sitcom.

Enough of that. Time to act. Time to get to know Scott.

She retouched her Kiss of Death lipstick and brushed her hair. Then she checked the final effect in the mirror.

Okay, neighbor, she thought, clutching the magazine.

Ready or not. Here I come.

When did I fall asleep?

When did the dream begin?

I came out to the backyard to trim the hedge. It took me a while to find the hedge clippers in the garage. Everything is still in cartons in there, stacked nearly up to the garage roof. I wonder if we'll ever get unpacked.

I promised Dad the first afternoon I didn't have football practice, I'd trim the hedges. So today is the day.

But then the big, shaggy white dog wandered into the yard. I mean, I dreamed the dog appeared.

And in the dream, I knew the dog's owner. She was that young woman who lives on the next block. The one who parades around in her front yard in those tight short shorts. The one with the cheap peroxide-blond hair and the nose ring. The one who embarrasses me every time I walk by on my way to practice.

She made kissing noises at me one day. Standing there in those short shorts.

And now in my dream, her dog wandered into

my backyard. Came right up to me behind the garage.

And I knew the woman had to be punished. Because she's bad. Because she embarrassed me. Because of the way she behaves.

She had to be punished.

Did I have a choice?

In the dream, the hedge clippers fit easily over the thick white fur of the dog's throat. I steadied the blades around the dog.

Then I shoved the handles together. Hard.

The blades made a clean slicing sound. I heard it so clearly in my dream.

The dog's head jerked back. Then the legs appeared to crumple as the bright red blood poured out over the white fur. Onto the blades of the hedge clippers. Onto the grass.

The dog died instantly in my dream. Without making a sound.

The only sound I heard was the ripple of blood on the ground as the dog emptied out.

The bad woman's dog.

The bad woman in my dream.

And when I woke up, what a strange surprise.

The dog still lay in a heap at my feet. The hedge clippers were gripped in my hands, the blades crusted thick with blood.

And my sneakers were deep in a puddle of blood. Dog blood.

The dead dog at my feet.

Not a dream after all.

I guess I didn't fall asleep. I guess I didn't dream what happened to the dog.

Blood all over my hands. Still warm.

But it was an hour before lunchtime. I knew I had time to bury the dog. And clean it all up.

I guess these things happen. Not always in dreams.

These things happen to me. If I'm not careful.

promising their mom they would do some yard work for a couple of weeks now. This weekend, definitely, she promised herself.

She stopped halfway across the yard and looked toward the back. I'm surprised their hedge isn't trimmed, she thought. The lawn is so perfect. But the hedge back there is wild and overgrown.

Weird thoughts. Why am I thinking about hedges? she asked herself. Guess I'm trying not to think about Scott, about what I'll do if Scott says he doesn't want to go out with me.

Crystal climbed up the steps to the Collinses' front porch. She lifted the brass, fox-head knocker and rapped it on the door.

Silence.

Great.

All this preparation and Scott wasn't even home!

She knocked again. The door swung open a couple of inches. She stuck her head inside.

"Scott? Hello?"

She took a step inside. I shouldn't be doing this, Crystal thought.

Then she thought of Lynne.

Lynne would be upstairs in Scott's room by now. You want to go out with the guy? she asked herself. Then you're going to have to be a lot braver.

"Scott? Hello? Anybody home?"

Crystal heard laughter from somewhere upstairs. Her heart thumped. He's home!

She slowly started up the staircase. The dark wood of the banister shone under her hand. Her

sneakers made no sound on the plush white carpeting.

"Scott? It's Crystal, your neighbor. I . . . uh . . . got some mail of yours by mistake, so I brought it over. Hello?"

Crystal hesitated at the top of the stairs. The hall was dark. All the doors were shut.

My bedroom is that way, she thought. So that would mean Scott's room is—

Bang!

A door flew open.

With a growl, a figure leapt out of the shadows and grabbed Crystal by the throat.

"What am I doing here?" Jake sounded surprised. "Scott and I are hanging out. What are you doing here is more like it?"

The door at the end of the hall opened. Scott peered out at them, a surprised expression on his face. He pulled off a large set of black headphones.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I told you I heard someone," Jake called. "Look who broke in."

Crystal held up the magazine. "Hi, Scott," she managed to say. "Your dad's mail came to our house by mistake and I—"

"Oh, likely story," Jake teased.

Crystal liked Jake. But right this second she wished he would fall through the floor and disappear forever.

"Thanks," Scott said, taking the magazine. "Come on in."

"Oh, well, I can't stay long. But I guess—"

Just shut up, Crystal, she ordered herself as she followed Jake down the hall to Scott's room.

His room was so neat, she thought. Even neater than Melinda's. Framed posters of football players hung on the walls. Crystal recognized Jerry Rice, hands outstretched, making an impossible catch. Sports trophies lined one long shelf.

"Whoa," she cried. "You win all those?"

Scott shrugged. "It's kind of embarrassing to keep them out."

"No way," Crystal assured him. "You should be proud of them."

44 Hey, I have trophies too, you know," Jake whined.

Crystal and Jake exchanged glances. "You?" Crystal exclaimed. "What could you win a trophy for?" she joked. 'They don't give trophies for eating pizza slices whole."

Jake flashed her a hurt expression.

Crystal turned away from him and realized that Scott was staring at her, studying her. Without the magazine, she didn't know what to do with her hands. She clasped them in front of her. Then she put them on her hips. Then behind her back.

Scott kept staring.

Maybe I finally got his attention, she thought.

"So you two are neighbors," Jake said. He pointed out the window. "Hey—isn't that your room, Crystal? Right across from Scott's?"

"What? Oh, yeah," Crystal answered, trying to sound casual.

What is Jake trying to do? Embarrass me? Remind Scott that I spied on him out my window?

Again, she wanted Jake to disappear.

"Hey, man," Jake taunted Scott. "You can see into Crystal's room from here."

"Really?" Scott acted uninterested.

"Yeah, you could spy on her if you wanted," Jake said, grinning.

Crystal felt her face get hot.

"Are you crazy?" Scott demanded. "I would never do something like that!" He turned to Crystal. He suddenly seemed very upset.

"Crystal," Scott said, "I have to apologize for Jake. He's definitely twisted. Believe me, I would never—"

"I know that," Crystal assured Scott. He's worried I would think something bad about him, she realized.

Crystal felt herself relax. She flopped down on Scott's bed and stretched out.

I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought. But it's working. She pretended to stare at the posters. But she could feel Scott's eyes on her.

Then the doorbell rang.

"Be right back," Scott said.

Crystal heard Scott pound down the stairs. A few minutes later he came back in.

With Lynne right behind him!

She wore hot-pink-and-black skating gear, with black tights. The shiny material clung to her skin, showing off her long legs. She strolled into the room as if she owned the place and dropped her Rollerblades on the floor.

She hates to skate! Crystal thought. She's used her blades about once since she got them.

"There you are," Lynne told Jake. "I've been calling you and calling you. Finally, your mother told me I could find you over here. So I—"

She turned and noticed Crystal on the bed. Her mouth dropped open.

Crystal grinned at her. Oh, right, Lynne, she thought. You wanted to find Jake. Likely story.

"Wow," Lynne said finally. "We're all here! I guess it's party time!"

"You were really calling me?" Jake asked her hopefully.

"What? Oh, yeah," Lynne muttered.

"What for?"

Crystal couldn't resist. "Yeah, Lynne, what for?"

"Uh, I need you to help me with that math assignment," Lynne told Jake. "I can't get anywhere with it."

Jake smiled, but his eyes held a doubtful expression. "Sure. No problem. When do you want to do it?"

"Whenever," Lynne said. She sat on Scott's desk, and swung her legs back and forth. "So this is your room, huh, Scottie?" she asked. "Cool."

"Hey, Lynne." Jake plopped down heavily on the floor. "If we get the math done in time, you want to see that new Jim Carrey movie with me tonight?"

"Maybe," Lynne said without even glancing at him. "Maybe we could all go."

Poor Jake, Crystal thought. Maybe after Lynne realizes Scott is madly in love with me, she will go out with Jake.

Ha! Dream on, Crystal, she told herself.

"Guys," Scott said. "I've got to throw you out. I've got a whole ton of homework. And I promised my dad I'd trim the hedges."

Jake stood up. "Come on, Lynne," he said. "We can get a start on the math."

She didn't move. Jake tugged on her hand, pulling her off Scott's desk.

"Get your paws off me," she snapped. "What are you doing?"

Grinning, Jake picked Lynne up off the desk, then scooped up her skates. "Me very strong!" he grunted.

Lynne pounded on his back. "Hey!" she called as Jake carried her out of the room. "Give me a break! Jake—you really are an animal! Put me down!"

Crystal waved at Lynne as Jake dragged her away. You lose this round, Lynne, she thought.

When they were alone, Scott turned to face Crystal. She hadn't moved from her spot on the bed.

He cleared his throat. "Well. . ."

"You want me to go, too?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Yeah," he said. "Sorry."

She got up slowly. "You sure?"

I can't believe he wants me to leave, Crystal thought. He's been staring at me all this time.

Maybe he's shy. Maybe he needs to be sure I like him too.

She had once read an article in a magazine that described a "surefire" way to get any guy to kiss you. The article said you should stare into the guy's eyes and imagine him kissing you. He would pick up the vibes—and your fantasy would come true.

I'll try it, Crystal decided. Why not?

She gazed into Scott's dark eyes. Picturing it. Picturing him kissing her.

But he didn't move toward her. He stayed by the door. Gazing back at her, his face expressionless.

What is he thinking? Crystal wondered. She slowly walked toward him. Scott watched her every move. She brushed lightly against him as she went by.

Then he grabbed her hand.

Here we go, she thought.

He gripped her wrist tightly. She could feel the electricity going from his body to hers.

"Listen," he said, his voice low and intense. "I want to be sure you understand. What Jake said isn't true. I never spied on you. That's no way to behave." He squeezed her wrist even tighter.

"Oh, no problem," Crystal said. He sounded so upset. "No problem," she repeated.

Then with her free hand she reached out and brushed his dark brown hair off his forehead.

She moved her head slightly toward his. His eyes widened. She let her lips part as she half-closed her eyes. Kiss me, she commanded him silently. Kiss me now.

The moment lasted too long. Crystal lost her nerve. She stepped back. Feeling foolish.

"Well," she said. "Anyhow . . ." She felt so awkward all of a sudden. "I have to go," she murmured. She turned so quickly that she bumped into the door frame on her way out.

I think I'm going to be sick.

Crystal stood so close to me. I thought I would choke on her perfume.

I can't believe her! This is my room! She invaded it like a disease!

She wanted to kiss me. I—I think I almost kissed her back.

If she'd kissed me, I'd have to do something. I'd have to show her she was bad.

I don't believe it. She almost forced me to do something terrible.

What would I have done? What would I do with the sickly sweet taste of that cheap lipstick clinging to my lips?

Would I grab her throat? Would I choke her—or break her neck? Would I snap her head back, listen to the crack, and watch her lipsticked smile fade?

I don't know what I'd do. But I'd have to do something. She's so bad.

As soon as Crystal left, I kicked the door shut. Then I hurried across the room and pulled the shade down.

Oh, don't flatter yourself, Crystal. We both know who has been spying. You've been watching me. You watch me all the time. You force me to keep my shades down.

I heard the front door close downstairs. Good!

My hands curled in fists. I still held the magazine she brought over, my palm sweating against the plastic covering.

She probably stole the magazine out of our

mailbox just so she could worm her way into my room, I thought. I wouldn't put anything past a girl like that.

Nothing!

Stay calm, Scott, I ordered myself. Stay calm. Calm.

Calm . . .

You already had one bad dream today. You already had one mess to clean up.

I took a deep breath and stared down at the magazine. American Family. One of the only magazines I can stand.

I tried to pull open the plastic wrapping, but my hands were too sweaty. I needed scissors.

I sat at the desk, grabbed the scissors from the top drawer, and sliced open the package. I breathed slowly, deeply. I tried to stay calm and focus on the words as I opened the magazine and turned the pages.

Pictures of happy American families.

Good families. Good, well-dressed people.

People who know how to behave.

I turned another page.

A young girl. In an ad for jeans. Staring up at me.

Her shirt halfway unbuttoned. Lips wet. That look on her face.

That look I hate.

That look that made me crazy.

A bad girl.

Someone had to be punished. In my dream, someone had to be punished.

Me.

I had to be punished.

Did I fall asleep again? Was I dreaming or awake?

I wasn't sure as I raised the scissors high.

And plunged the blade deep into the back of my hand.

I'm going straight to his house. I'll invite him over to watch a video or something.

"Oh, no," she murmured out loud when she turned the corner onto Fear Street.

Lynne sat on Scott's porch with a six-pack of Coke and a jumbo bag of potato chips next to her backpack. Crystal stepped up to the porch just as Scott and Jake showed up.

Here we go again, Crystal thought with a sigh. Four of us.

Two's company. Four's a crowd.

"What happened to your hand?" Crystal asked Scott.

He raised his bandaged left hand. "Would you believe it? I burned it taking a pizza out of the oven. Pretty klutzy, huh?"

He led them all into the living room. He settled into the black leather BarcaLounger and grabbed the TV remote with his good hand. He started channel surfing.

Ask him, Crystal told herself. There isn't going to be a better time.

"So, Scott," Crystal said. She hesitated. Her voice sounded so loud. "Can I ask you something personal? Something every girl at school wants to know?"

"No," Scott said, keeping his eyes on the TV. Then he laughed.

"Do you have a girlfriend back where you used to live?" Crystal asked. She said it fast, the way you pull a Band-Aid off a sore.

"Why doesn't anybody ever ask me that?" Jake asked, shoving another handful of chips into his mouth.

"You moved here in the second grade, jerk," Crystal answered.

"A girlfriend?" Scott tipped his can of Coke up and took a long drink. His expression grew serious. "No. Well, not anymore."

"So how come you haven't asked anyone at Shady side out?" Lynne asked bluntly.

"Yeah, why not, Scott?" Jake broke in. "If I had a girl like Crystal throwing herself at me, I'd go out with her for sure."

Lynne frowned.

"I'm not throwing myself at anybody!" Crystal snapped shrilly. How embarrassing! Why did Jake say things like that?

"Sorry," Jake muttered.

An awkward silence fell over them. Scott continued to flip through the channels.

"I'm not ready yet, I guess," Scott finally answered. "To see anyone. You know." He shrugged.

Another uncomfortable pause.

"Sorry, Crystal," Jake apologized again. "I didn't mean to—"

"That's okay," Crystal replied.

Scott clicked to another channel.

"Wow," Lynne said, gazing at the TV. "I didn't know Dylan and Candace were an item."

"They weren't before today," Crystal said, happy

for a new topic. On the screen, two characters from her favorite soap shared a passionate kiss.

Jake took the remote from Scott and changed the TV channel to NFL highlights. "I missed the Bears game," Jake explained. "I only want to watch for one sec."

To Crystal's surprise, Scott stood up. He crossed the room and sat down on the arm of the sofa, near her. He leaned forward, staring intensely at the set. Crystal could see the muscles in his jaw moving.

He's upset, Crystal thought. She remembered her conversation with Melinda. Her sister thought Scott seemed sad, as if he were trying to get over someone.

She studied Scott's solemn face. Could Melinda be right?

"Scott?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you—you know—feel ready yet? Did something happen?"

Scott jerked his head toward her. His eyes gleamed with emotion. Then he looked away.

Melinda was right! "I'm really sorry," Crystal said softly.

"Sorry for what?" Scott mumbled.

"You went through something really painful, didn't you?" she asked.

"So what happened, Scott?" Lynne called from across the room. Crystal hadn't even realized that Lynne was eavesdropping.

"What happened?" Scott kept his eyes on the TV.

"Yeah," Lynne insisted.

She can be so pushy and thoughtless, Crystal thought. "Leave him alone," she told Lynne sharply. "He's probably not ready to talk about it. Right, Scott?"

"What a run!" Jake exclaimed, watching the TV. "Do you know that guy—number thirty-three— does fifteen hundred sit-ups and push-ups every single day? He's got a thirty-one-inch waist, too."

They all stared at Jake for a moment. Then Scott turned to Lynne. "I'm sorry," he said. "But Crystal is right. I'm just not ready to talk about it. It's silly. It was over a year ago. I should be over it by now. But . . ."

"But it takes time," Crystal jumped in. "You can't just make yourself get over something."

Scott nodded. He smiled at her. "Thanks for understanding."

"No problem." Scott was actually a good guy, she thought. Lynne and I have probably been driving him crazy. He has a broken heart—and we're drooling over him.

"Touchdown!" Jake yelled, shaking his fist in the air.

"I've got an idea. It's such a great day. It's like summer. Why don't we all ride out to the lake?" Lynne suggested. "Unless you want to stay and watch TV with Jake?" she added to Crystal.

Crystal glared at Lynne.

"Actually," Scott said, "I've got a mess of homework to do and a psych test tomorrow and—"

"No way," Lynne interrupted. "You're always kicking us out."

"Hey—sorry." He held up both hands as if to say, "What can I do?"

"Are you going to be okay?" Crystal asked him quietly.

"Yeah. Thanks," he answered.

"What's up with that guy?" Jake asked after Scott ushered them out the front door.

"Come on," Crystal said as they trooped across the lawn. "We'll go over to my place."

Lynne stopped short. She slapped her forehead. "I am so stupid," she said. "Hold on." She turned and jogged back across the yard to Scott's house.

"Where are you going?" Crystal yelled.

"I forgot my backpack," she called over her shoulder.

Jake ran his fingers through his short, dirty-blond hair. "She forgot her backpack," he repeated.

"She'll be right back," Crystal said. She'd better be. Couldn't Lynne tell that Scott felt like being alone?

Four minutes later, Crystal glanced back at Scott's door. No Lynne.

"How long does it take to get a backpack?" Jake muttered.

What is she doing in there? Crystal wondered.

"Come on," Jake finally said. "Let's wait at your house."

"Hold on," Crystal urged.

She stared back at the door. Get out here, Lynne! she thought. Now!

A few seconds later, the door swung open.

Oh, no, Crystal thought. Check out the smile on Lynne's face.

This is bad. This is very bad.

Crystal was dying to know why Lynne was smiling. But she couldn't ask. Not with Jake there.

They headed over to Crystal's house. She managed to get Jake out the door after about an hour.

She dragged Lynne up to her room. She pulled down the shade.

A wide smile spread over Lynne's face before Crystal could get a question out.

"You kissed him, didn't you?" Crystal demanded.

Lynne raised her fists over her head in triumph. "The winner!" she cried.

"You kissed him!" Crystal repeated.

"Oh, wow!" Lynne nodded. "I did it!"

"Shut up!" Crystal snapped. She couldn't take it. The thought of Scott kissing Lynne—when he should have been kissing her—hurt too much.

"Hey," Lynne said, her grin fading. "Remember rule number one."

"I remember," Crystal replied grudgingly. But she couldn't feel happy for Lynne. Not now.

Lynne stretched out on the bed. "Crystal, he and I are really going to have fun now," she said dreamily.

"No, you're not," Crystal blurted out without thinking. "I still think—"

Lynne sat up and shook her head. "You weren't there, Crystal," she said. "You don't know how he kissed me. I'm telling you—"

"So? One kiss? That's not like you're going out."

"Oh no?" Lynne tossed her blond hair. "You watch. I promise you. Scott and I will be the talk of Shadyside High from now on."

I could still feel Lynne's lips on my mouth.

I locked the bathroom door and hurried to the sink. I turned on the hot water full blast.

Then I splashed my face over and over. The water burned. Good, I thought. It will burn away the skin that she touched.

I scrubbed my lips—hard. But I couldn't wash away the taste of her. It's like a fungus, I thought. Something slimy growing on me.

I flung open the medicine chest, scrabbled around inside with my unbandaged hand. I grabbed some mouthwash and rinsed my mouth again and again.

Then I noticed my razor. I snatched it up. Imagined slashing it across Lynne's throat. Slashing through the muscle and tendons.

Watching her blood spray out. Hearing her pitiful whimpers.

I caught sight of my face in the mirror. My skin was red from the scalding hot water.

This is your fault, Lynne.

You threw yourself at me. Wrapped your arms around my neck and kissed me. Even though I tried to push you away.

That is no way to behave!

I hope you don't have an accident, Lynne.

But I know what my dreams are like. My dreams that aren't dreams.

Lynne is dead, I decided, staring at my red face in the mirror. I started to calm down. Lynne is already in the grave and rotting with little worms chewing out her eyes.

I stared down at the razor in my hand. Can't use this, I knew. It's a safety razor.

But I'll dream the way. I'll dream the perfect way to kill her. And my dreams always come true.

"Hey," I said. Very low and cool.

"Hey," she said back. "You scared me for a second."

"I need to talk to you," I said. Trying not to let the lines I had planned so carefully come out sounding all rehearsed.

"Sure," Lynne answered. She stuck the carton of milk back in the refrigerator. "Do you want something to drink? We have Coke, orange juice—"

"No thanks," I interrupted.

Lynne wiped a drop of milk off her lip. She flashed me a devilish grin. "Let's go in the living room then. My parents won't be home for hours."

I know that, I thought. You told me your parents always get home late. Which makes what I have planned so much easier.

"Let's go for a ride instead," I suggested. "I've been exploring Shadyside, and I found a place with an amazing view. Up on that big cliff over the river. We can talk up there."

"Talk, huh?" Lynne grinned.

I felt my face flush. I knew what she meant. She thought I wanted to touch her. Wanted to kiss her again.

Stay calm, I ordered myself. Don't do anything now. Follow the plan.

"Come on," I told her. "It's a short drive. Then we'll be totally alone."

I followed her through the house and out the front door. "Where's your car?" she asked.

Why didn't I think she would ask that? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"I didn't bring it," I told her. "I jogged over. You know. Got to keep my legs in shape. For the game."

Lynne nodded. "We can take mine," she said. We climbed into her little Honda Civic.

I described the place I had seen to Lynne. "I know where you mean. It's called River Ridge," she said. "I've been there a few times—but not with anyone as cute as you."

The sun began to set as we drove over to River Road and up to the cliffs. The darker the better, I thought.

"Here we go," I told her when we reached the dead end near the edge of the cliff.

Lynne turned off the engine. The motor ticked a few times.

I swung open my door. Lynne grabbed my arm. "Where are you going?"

"Let's check out the view before it gets completely dark," I told her.

"I've seen it," Lynne said. "I like the view in here better." She reached across me and pulled the door shut.

My heartbeat drummed in my ears.

She's bad, I told myself. She's very bad.

"You know," Lynne began, "I probably shouldn't tell you this . . . but I've been going crazy the last few weeks. Wondering why you weren't asking me out."

She giggled. 'This is so stupid. I can't believe I'm telling you this, Scott. All this time I couldn't tell if you really liked me."

"Like you?" I laughed. "Are you kidding?"

"Dumb, huh?" Lynne said. "But I really couldn't tell. Until today."

She leaned forward and worked her fingers through my hair. Her fingers felt like worms digging at my scalp.

She pulled my head closer—and started to kiss me. Then she broke away and hung her head. Acting all shy.

As if I didn't know the truth about her.

"Everyone thinks I'm so confident and sure of myself," Lynne said softly. "Even Crystal. But when you didn't pay any attention to me, I felt really bad. Isn't that crazy? I mean, I barely know you. Do you ever feel like that?" she asked.

"Sure," I said.

She stared into my eyes. As if she were trying to read my mind. See everything I had hidden there.

She moved closer. "You're strange, Scott."

The back of my neck suddenly felt cold. "Strange?" What does she mean? What does she know?

"You keep pulling back," she said. "You come to my house and ask me to drive up to this romantic place. And now . . . it's as if you're a million miles away."

I didn't answer. I didn't know what to tell her.

"If it's a game you're playing, it's working," she said. She made a pouty face. "Is it a game?"

"It's no game," I told her.

She leaned close to me. I felt her hot breath against my face.

She is going to kiss me again! I realized. I have to get her out of this car!

I pictured her surprised expression when I pushed her off the cliff. I imagined her tumbling through the air. Down, down, down. Splat against the rocks at the bottom.

Lynne kissed me on the neck. Her mouth left a slimy trail on my skin.

"Relax, Scott," she whispered into my ear. She giggled. "I'm not going to bite you!"

Now! I decided.

I can't take any more.

Now!

I grabbed a fistful of her blond hair. Urging her head back.

Ready to slam it down as hard as I could against the front of the dash.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

What was he saying?

Didn't he see me take hold of her hair? Does he know I was about to bash her head open?

Maybe not . . .

Lynne leaned toward him. "All you need to do is turn around and drive back until you get to Park Drive," she explained. "Turn right. Then go down Park to Mission Street and turn right again. Go straight and you'll run right into the Old Village."

"Thanks a lot," the guy said. "Sorry to barge in on you two." He spun around quickly and hurried away, his shoes crackling over the gravel.

I turned to face Lynne. Her eyes gleamed. She tugged her hair back into place.

What was she thinking? I had to say something.

Because I couldn't kill her. Not now. Not here.

The man might remember he saw us up here together near the cliff.

"Sorry ..." I began.

Lynne shook her head.

I trembled. The expression on her face. She knows. She knows I planned to kill her.

"You quiet guys always have a wild side. Don't you?" Lynne asked, flashing me that evil grin.

"Ring!" Lynne shrieked at the phone. "Ring right now you stupid—"

Crystal watched her pick up the receiver, then slam it down. Then Lynne picked it up again, listening for a dial tone.

"Lynne, relax," Crystal said as gently as she

could. She had never seen Lynne so upset over a guy before. "Scott will call. Read my lips. He'll call."

Actually, Crystal wasn't so sure. It had been a week since Scott had invited Lynne to drive with him up to River Ridge. Ever since, Lynne had been driving her crazy, acting like a five-year-old.

Lynne had dark circles under her eyes. And Lynne didn't laugh much. Or come up with new hairstyles. Or say anything outrageous. Lynne wasn't acting like Lynne!

"I just know he'll call," Crystal said, knowing how lame it sounded.

Lynne shook her head. "I've tried everything. I've called his house every night. I've left notes and funny little presents taped to his locker. I go and watch football practice after school. And he totally avoids me!"

Lynne threw herself facedown on her bed. "It doesn't make sense," she moaned. "He came over here that day. All on his own. He told me he needed to talk. He said he liked me. And he got so intense ... so passionate."

She flopped onto her back. "Why did that stupid man have to interrupt and ask for stupid directions? He ruined everything."

Crystal couldn't come up with anything else to say. She had heard all this before. Lynne had made her listen to every detail of her evening with Scott—over and over.

"Hey, think of it this way," Crystal told her

friend. She forced a grin. "You're still way ahead of me.

She swivelled around in Lynne's desk chair. "He's never called me, and he's never kissed me, and he never will. You won."

"Right, I won," Lynne said miserably. "But you know what? If this is what winning feels like, I wish I had lost."

Lynne kicked the phone with her sneaker. The receiver came off the hook. She quickly put it back.

"You heard what he said," Crystal reminded her. "He's trying to get over some girlfriend from last year. Maybe he thought he was ready to get involved again—but he wasn't."

"Great," Lynne groaned.

"Look, Lynne, this is ridiculous," Crystal told her. "Let's do something. Let's talk about something else. Anything else. Let's go to the mall. Or see a movie."

Lynne sighed. "I don't feel like it."

"Then come over to my house," Crystal urged. "Get away from the phone for a little while at least."

"No way," Lynne said. "If I go to your house, I'd be right next door to him. I'd go out of my mind."

"Now you know how I feel!" Crystal joked.

Silence for a long moment.

What can I do to cheer her up? Crystal asked herself. Suddenly she had a brainstorm! Crystal reached for the phone.

"What are you doing?" Lynne demanded.

Crystal punched in a number. She took a deep breath. Can I do this? she wondered. It's not the kind of thing I can usually do. But if I pretend Fm someone else, maybe I can do it.

"Hallo?" Crystal said, putting on a phony French accent. "Ees zees Mrs. Collins? Oh, hallo. Zees is Francine callink. From Paree. Is your son Scott in ze house, by any chance?"

Lynne stared at Crystal, her blue eyes wide with amazement. Then she burst out laughing.

Crystal squeezed her lips together so she wouldn't crack up too. But she couldn't stop herself. She started laughing so hard she couldn't talk.

Crystal slammed down the phone receiver and fell back on the rug, kicking her feet in the air.

Lynne laughed so hard, she started to choke.

"Now this time," Crystal said when they had finally calmed down, "don't make me laugh."

"Don't call back!" Lynne shrieked. "You're not going to call back—are you?"

I should speak in a French accent all the time, Crystal thought. Then maybe I wouldn't be so shy. She hit redial. "Turn toward the wall or something," she instructed Lynne. "I'll start laughing again if I see your face."

Lynne obediently turned her back.

"Oui. Zees is Francine calling from Paree again," Crystal cooed into the receiver. "Ees zees Mrs. Collins again?"

Lynne's shoulders started to shake up and down. Crystal had to hang up again.

This time they both laughed till they choked.

Then Lynne took the phone. "My turn," she said. She hit redial. "Hallo?" she said, imitating Crystal's fake French accent.

"What? Oh, uh—" She dropped the accent for a second and blushed a bright red.

"No, zees ees not Lynne," she said. "Who ees Lynne?"

Crystal gasped and covered her mouth. Lynne stared at her and nodded.

Oh no, Crystal thought. Scott must have picked up the phone! Poor Lynne!

"I promees you my name ees not Lynne," Lynne insisted, her phony accent faltering.

Crystal waved her hands wildly, signalling for Lynne to hang up.

Lynne shook her head. "Hi, Scott," she said in her ordinary voice. "You're right. It's me."

Crystal clapped both hands over her face.

"Uh, I hope your mom wasn't angry," Lynne said. "I was just, you know, goofing. Oh, really? She thought it was funny? Oh, thank goodness!"

Crystal was happy to see Lynne smiling for a change. "Anyway," Lynne continued, "I've been trying to get in touch with you for a while. Yeah. Uh-huh. I know, football keeps you very busy."

Lynne's smile faded. "So listen," Lynne said. Crystal heard her voice quaver a little. "My parents aren't home. They had to fly to San Diego. So . . . uh . . . what are you doing tonight?"

Crystal's stomach tensed as she watched her

friend. I don't believe this! she thought. I'm really rooting for Lynne now.

"Want to come over or something?" Lynne asked Scott.

Crystal held her breath. She stared at Lynne's expression.

What would Scott say?

"Scott?" Mom called from the dining room.

I turned, wiping the sweat from my forehead with my hand. Thanks to that evil call, I had left Mom all alone. That wasn't right. Mom shouldn't have to eat alone because some girl couldn't control herself.

"Yes, Mom?" I called.

"Your dinner's going to get cold, sweetheart." I smiled at Mom as I came back into the dining room. "Sorry."

I picked up my white cloth napkin from my chair and sat down. Actually, the chair across from Mom is my dad's. But on nights that Dad has to work late, Mom insists I sit here.

Mom stared across the table at me, her dark eyebrows raised. She wasn't smiling. I shivered. Mom is angry, I realized. Very angry.

"That Lynne is very persistent, isn't she?" Mom asked. She chuckled, but I could tell she didn't think it was funny. "I don't know how many messages she's left for you this week," Mom added.

"I know. I'm—I'm sorry."

I sure didn't want to talk about Lynne with Mom. I took a big forkful of spaghetti, hoping she wouldn't say anything else.

"And now this?" Mom continued, shaking her head. "Making prank calls? Maybe we should call her parents, Scott."

"No, Mom! Please don't worry about it. I—I'll take care of it. I'll tell her not to call here anymore. I'll—"

Mom narrowed her eyes at me. "You don't have feelings for this girl, do you?"

"Mom! Of course not, I—"

"You sure you didn't encourage her in some way?" she demanded.

Those eyes. Staring into mine. I felt a drop of sweat run down my forehead. "No, Mom, I promise you, she's nothing. A nuisance."

Red patches appeared on Mom's round cheeks, as if she'd been slapped. "Because it wouldn't do, Scott," she said, shaking her head sadly. "It wouldn't do if you got involved with a girl like that. You understand that, don't you? That girl doesn't know how to behave!"

I nodded.

"No way to behave," Mom repeated, muttering to herself.

I accidentally dropped my fork. It clattered against the side of my plate. Mom glanced up sharply.

She didn't have to say a word.

I knew exactly what she was thinking. I almost scratched her best china!

Mom took a bite of salad.

That's it, Lynne, I thought. That is it!

It's your fault Mom is upset with me. It's all your fault!

Well, Lynne, that just won't do. It just won't do.

My spaghetti suddenly looked like intestines to me. Piles and piles of tangled intestines . . .

I pictured Lynne with her stomach cut open, spaghetti pouring out.

"Come on, Lynne, pick up."

Crystal sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor. Listening to the phone ring again and again.

Where is she? Crystal expected Lynne to snatch up the phone on the first ring.

She hung up and pushed herself to her feet. Her left leg had gone to sleep. She stomped around her room to wake it up.

I can't believe Lynne went out this late, Crystal thought. I begged her to do something with me tonight, and she wouldn't.

Crystal wandered into the hall. Mom's light is off, she noticed. Melinda's, too.

Then she noticed that the door to the attic stood slightly ajar. She opened it. A faint light glowed at the top of the wooden stairs.

Crystal climbed up. "Melinda?"

"Over here," Melinda called.

Crystal entered the attic, her eyes adjusting to the gloom. She didn't like the attic. It was big enough. But she always felt as if the sloping walls of the roof were closing in on her.

She found Melinda curled up in an old easy chair. Its cushions leaked foam. An old floor lamp leaned over the armchair. Melinda loved to come up here and read.

"You're up late," Crystal said.

"So are you."

Melinda smiled, held up her book. "I'm almost finished," she said. "Wuthering Heights."

One of Melinda's favorites. Who knew how many times she had read this one?

Crystal glanced around. We should get rid of this junk, she thought. The attic held all kinds of stuff. An old sewing machine, a rusted hobby horse, Dad's clothes, an old tether ball game they had never gotten around to setting up in the backyard.

Crystal picked up a ski pole. "This was Dad's, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Melinda answered.

Crystal pretended the pole was a fencing sword and struck a few poses. Melinda laughed. Crystal put the pole back down and glanced at Melinda shyly. "You ever think about him?"

"Dad?" said Melinda. "Sure. Don't you?"

Crystal shrugged. "I don't know. It's hard to remember him. I was a little kid. And ... he wasn't home that much. Always off on one of his cross-country skiing trips or something."

"He liked to be alone," Melinda said, nodding.

Crystal and Melinda's eyes locked. It had never occurred to Crystal how much Melinda was like their father.

"Mel," Crystal said, "I'm not trying to get on your case. But doesn't it ever drive you nuts, spending so much time by yourself?"

"Sometimes," Melinda agreed. "But I . . ." She let the thought trail off.

"What?" Crystal asked. She sat down on the floor by Melinda's chair.

"Fm not like you," Melinda told her. "Fm quiet. I don't want to go out just to go out. If I enjoy someone's company—great. But I don't want someone around whose main purpose is to keep me from being alone."

Crystal nodded. But she found it hard to understand. She loved being part of a big group of people.

She could tell Melinda wanted to get back to her book. So she said good night and went back to her room. Determined to go to bed and not worry about Lynne.

But twenty minutes later, she still couldn't sleep. She tried Lynne one last time. She let the phone ring and ring. Through the bedroom window, Crystal saw the light behind the shade in Scott's bedroom go off.

Crystal hung up the phone. She couldn't worry about Scott right now. Her best friend had a bad case of the blues. And Crystal knew what she had to do.

She pulled on jeans and a sweater. She grabbed her keys and crept downstairs. She hurried over to the driveway and slid into the car. Crystal didn't like driving at night. She had passed her driver's test only a few months ago, and driving still made her a little nervous sometimes.

But she drove quickly to Lynne's house—39

Cedar Lane—and stopped in front. The house stood dark. No lights anywhere.

Should I knock? she wondered. Maybe Lynne felt so bad, she decided to unplug the phone and go to bed.

What am I doing here? Crystal asked herself. This is crazy.

She took her foot off the brake, ready to head home. Then she changed her mind and slid the gearshift into park.

She suddenly remembered a big fight she and Lynne had in the sixth grade. Crystal had ended up storming off. Lynne figured out she might be in the Fear Street Woods—and hiked all through the woods searching for her. Crystal felt so good when Lynne showed up.

Tonight I need to find Lynne, Crystal decided. I need to make sure she's okay.

Crystal climbed out of the car, and started to walk up the drive. The security lights on top of the garage flashed on. Lynne's dad had them on a motion detector.

What was that strange smell? she wondered as she climbed the steps. She rang the doorbell. No answer.

Go home, Crystal, she told herself. Lynne is fine. She'll laugh when she hears how you stood out here in the cold.

But if Lynne is fine, why am I getting such a creepy feeling?

Crystal bent down and lifted the old flowerpot on the porch. She felt around in the dirty dish underneath. Great. The spare key is still here.

She opened the front door. Flicked on the lights. "Lynne?" she called.

Silence.

"Lynne? Are you up in your room? Lynne?"

Crystal rushed up the carpeted front steps and turned down the hall toward Lynne's room. The door stood shut.

Crystal felt along the wall for the light switch. Couldn't find it. She groped her way down to Lynne's door.

She tugged open the door.

Saw someone standing there. Saw someone staring back at her.

And started to scream.

She glanced around the room. No makeup or magazines or CDs on the dresser. No clutter on the nightstand. No clothes on the chair. Nothing on the floor.

This is so totally not like Lynne, Crystal thought. She climbed off the bed. What is going on? And where is she?

What are you going to do? Crystal scolded herself again. Freak out because Lynne cleaned up her room for once?

But she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Crystal crossed to Lynne's desk. I'll leave her a note telling her to call me as soon as she gets back, Crystal decided. No matter how late it is.

She found a piece of pastel notepaper and a pen in the top drawer. "Lynne, where are you?" she wrote. "I came over—"

Crystal caught sight of something on the desk. A note? Yes. Handwritten by Lynne.

Crystal picked it up. "Dear Mom and Dad," the note began. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I know what I am about to do will hurt you very much."

Crystal gasped. "No," she whispered. "Please, no, Lynne."

"All I can say is that you didn't really know me," the note continued. "Everyone always thought I was so wild, so happy. But inside—inside I always felt so miserable. I only acted wild to cover up my true feelings."

Crystal's hands started to shake. She struggled to read the rest of Lynne's letter. "Mom, Dad . . . I've done so many, many things I really regret. I realize now that this was no way to behave—"

Crystal dropped the sheet of paper on the desk. She stared around the room, her heart thudding.

Lynne had cleaned every inch of her room. As if she didn't want to leave any mess when . . . when.. .

Lynne wouldn't, Crystal thought wildly. She wouldn't.

Then Crystal remembered that odd smell outside the house.

"Noooo!" she wailed.

She ran. Please let me be in time! she prayed as she bolted down the stairs. Through the dark living room. She banged into the coffee table so hard she almost fell.

Pain shot through her leg. But she regained her balance and kept running.

She burst out the front door and flew down the porch steps. Then she tore across the lawn.

Bright lights flashed on. I hit the motion sensor again, she realized.

Crystal grabbed the handle of the garage door. Pulled with all her might. Oh, please, she silently begged. Oh, please, please.

Locked.

Crystal leaned against the door—and realized she could hear a car running.

The smell! That's what is causing the smell.

She jumped up and down, trying to see through the small windows near the top of the door.

She could see the car.

She jumped again.

Someone sat inside it. Someone with long blond hair.

"Lynne!" Crystal screamed.

Crystal turned around and flung herself at me. I could see her tears leaving a wet spot on the front of my good gray suit.

Over Crystal's head, I could see her sister Melinda watching us. A tense expression on her face. I nodded to her. She looked away.

Then Crystal raised her head and stared up at me, her green eyes wet with tears.

"Oh, Scott," she murmured, "I—I don't know if I can take it. This is so sad. It's so unbelievable. I can't believe I'll never see Lynne again."

How can you be so stupid? I thought. You think this funeral is sad because Lynne is dead?

What's sad is that Lynne couldn't behave. What's sad is that she forced me to kill again.

Finally Crystal let me go. I watched the workers slowly lower Lynne's coffin into the ground.

Yes, Lynne, you put me in terrible danger. But I'm still okay. I'm still okay.

I repeated those words to myself as I stared down into the grave.

I'm safe, safe, safe. I planned it all so carefully— the way I did with Dana.

I held a knife to Lynne's throat until she wrote the suicide note. "Why?" she kept asking me. "Why?"

I knew she would never understand. A girl like that.

When she finished the note, I held a pillow against her face until she lost consciousness.

I threw her over my shoulder and hauled her

down to the garage. Then I stuck her in the car and turned on the engine.

I locked the garage door from the inside. Then I returned to the house and left through the front door, locking it behind me. Another perfect job!

Especially when Crystal told Lynne's parents how depressed Lynne was that night. Perfect. Just perfect.

Crystal started sobbing again. Melinda wrapped her arm around Crystal's shoulders and whispered something in her ear.

Melinda.

I wonder why I haven't seen her around much. Outside of English class.

She is so different from her sister. Such a nice girl. A good girl.

I watched Melinda take out a wad of tissues and hand them to her sister. Then she wiped her own eyes.

I glanced around at the guys from the team, Lynne's parents, Crystal's mom, some of my teachers. All these people. And none of them suspects me. No one has a clue.

And that means—

My problems are finally over.

I can have a normal life again.

Yes! At last, everything will be fine.

Unless . . .

Unless Crystal hasn't learned to behave.

"Just straightening up a little," Melinda mumbled. She fussed with the clutter on Crystal's desk.

A wave of fury rushed through Crystal. She jumped up. "Here," she yelled. "I'll do it."

Crystal swept her arm across her desk. Everything crashed to the floor. "Clean enough for you?"

"Oh, Crystal," Melinda cried, her voice breaking.

Crystal noticed that one thing remained on the desk. A tube of bright red lipstick. Kiss of Death. The lipstick she and Lynne bought together at the mall.

Crystal picked up the lipstick and stared at it. Then she started crying. It was too much! Lynne!

Melinda put her arms around Crystal, holding her tight. "I'm okay," Crystal insisted, pulling away.

Crystal and Melinda rarely hugged. Now it felt weird to Crystal when they did.

Crystal caught the worried expression on Melinda's face. She gave Melinda a smile. "I'm okay, Mel," she insisted, wiping tears from her eyes.

Melinda sat down slowly on the edge of the bed. "I'm really sorry, Chrissie," she said, staring down at her hands.

Chrissie. She hasn't called me that since we were little.

Crystal glanced over at the empty desktop. It reminded her of the lid of a coffin.

"Can I tell you something?" Crystal asked. "I'm

angry at her. Isn't that stupid? I'm angry at her for doing it. For leaving me."

"I don't think that's stupid," Melinda replied.

Crystal sat down next to her on the bed. Neither spoke for a moment.

"Can I tell you something?" Melinda asked.

"Sure," Crystal said.

"I never—"

Melinda stopped. But Crystal knew what she had started to say. "You never really liked Lynne that much."

Melinda glanced up. A tear inched down her cheek. "Do you hate me?"

"Of course not," Crystal assured her.

"I don't know why I felt that way about her," Melinda said. "I guess I was—I was jealous of how close you two always were. I always . . . wanted us to be that close."

Crystal didn't say a word. But she felt surprised. She never knew Melinda wanted to be closer to her.

"Also, you and Lynne were always so popular . . . with boys," Melinda said. She chewed nervously on her thumbnail. "That was—hard on me."

"I know," Crystal said gently.

"And I guess I didn't really approve, either. You know. Of the way Lynne acted around guys."

"Melinda," Crystal said sharply. "You didn't like her. Okay. But please. Don't criticize Lynne to me—not now!"

"Okay," Melinda replied quickly. "You're right. I'm sorry."

They fell into a longer silence.

Suddenly Melinda laughed.

"What?" Crystal asked.

"Mom keeps telling me I've got to cheer you up. If she came in right now, she wouldn't think I'm doing a very good job."

"Yes, you are," Crystal told her. "You really are.

As if on cue, Mrs. Thomas stuck her head into the room. "You two doing okay?" she asked.

Crystal nodded. "Why are you so dressed up?" she asked.

Mrs. Thomas smiled shyly. "Oh, well . . ."

Melinda held one hand up alongside her mouth, as if telling Crystal a secret. "Mom has a date tonight."

"A what?" Crystal exclaimed.

"Oh, it's not a date, Melinda," Mrs. Thomas protested, her face growing red. "It's only dinner with Paul Sloane. You know. From work. There's never time to talk at the office, so we thought we would—"

"—Go on a date," Crystal and Melinda interrupted in unison.

They all laughed.

Wow, Crystal thought. We haven't done this in a long time. Talked and laughed—just the three of us.

"There are leftovers in the freezer," her mother said. "Just pop whatever you want into the microwave."

Crystal and Melinda promised her they would be fine. As Mrs. Thomas hurried away, the phone rang. Crystal picked up.

"Hey."

"Hey, Jake," Crystal answered.

"You okay?"

"Uh-huh."

Jake had been great these past few weeks. Doing everything he could think of to help Crystal through this. He even drove her to the Shadyside Cemetery and held her hand while she cried at Lynne's grave.

"Listen," Jake said. "Some friends are hanging out here while my parents are out of town. Why don't you come over?"

"That's sweet, Jake. But I don't feel like it tonight," Crystal replied. "You don't have to worry about me. I'm fine."

"I'm not worried about you," Jake said. "I mean, of course I'm worried about you. But I'm inviting you because I want to see you. Everybody does."

Melinda gestured to her. "Go," she whispered.

Crystal shook her head.

"Why not?" Melinda demanded.

Crystal waved her away.

"Thanks," she told Jake. "Really."

"Scott's going to be here," Jake added.

Scott. Crystal realized she still felt attracted to him. And she felt close to him that day at the funeral. She could tell that Lynne's death hurt him a lot, too.

She would like the chance to talk to him sometime. But not now. She wanted to be alone.

"You're trying everything, aren't you?" Crystal asked Jake. "Maybe I'll come by later. But probably not, okay? I'm sorry."

When she hung up, she found Melinda studying her. "Give me one reason why you're not going," Melinda demanded.

"Because I don't feel like it." Crystal stretched out on the bed.

"Well if you're not going, then you have to spend some time with me," Melinda insisted.

Crystal lifted her head. "Deal," she said.

The phone rang next to Crystal's ear. She groaned. "Jake," she said, when she picked up. "I told you—"

Something about the silence at the other end of the line stopped her in midsentence.

A familiar voice said, "This isn't Jake."

"Oh," Crystal said. "I mean . . . hi!"

She saw Melinda staring at her. She mouthed the news. "It's Scott."

Melinda turned away.

"I've been thinking about you a lot, Crystal," Scott said in a low voice.

"You have?" Crystal couldn't hide her amazement.

"Yeah. I keep thinking about how close you and Lynne were," Scott said. "I sure wouldn't want the same thing to happen to you."

called you at three in the morning, that would be okay with you?"

"Three in the morning is the best time to call," she teased.

"What have you been doing with yourself?" he asked.

"Not much," Crystal answered. "This hasn't been the greatest time."

"Yeah," he agreed.

Scott must be having a rough time, she thought. He probably feels guilty about the way he ignored Lynne.

"I—I think we should talk," Crystal said.

"Yeah, sure," he replied quickly.

Melinda stood up abruptly. Crystal waved at her as she left the room. Melinda didn't wave back.

Then Crystal remembered. She had agreed to spend some time with Melinda tonight. Well, I'll make it up to her, Crystal promised herself.

"You still there?" Scott asked.

"I'm here," Crystal said. "You know, it's kind of funny talking to you on the phone."

"Why?"

She sat up and gazed at the drawn shade in Scott's bedroom window. "Well, our rooms are so close together. We could practically talk back and forth through our windows."

Scott cleared his throat again. "Uh-huh," he said.

Crystal waited.

"So, listen," he said finally. "The reason I called is ... I wanted to talk to Melinda."

"Excuse me?" Crystal blurted out in shock.

Melinda? He wants to talk to Melinda!

"Oh," she said, feeling her face go hot with embarrassment. "Wait one second."

She held the phone against her chest. "Mel!" she called.

No answer.

"Melinda!" she yelled again. "Phone!"

"Okay," Melinda answered from the attic.

"One more sec," Crystal told Scott. She heard Melinda's footsteps on the attic stairs. Then her sister appeared in the doorway.

"Scott wants to talk to you," Crystal said.

Melinda's mouth dropped open.

Crystal nodded.

Melinda hesitated, then took the phone receiver. She didn't glance over at Crystal as she talked. She didn't say much either. Mostly "Uh-huh" and "Sure."

"I can't believe it!" Melinda declared when she hung up. "Wow!" She sounded dazed.

"What?" Crystal asked.

"Scott is going over to Jake's," Melinda said.

"And—?" Crystal prompted.

"And he wanted to know if I'd come over later."

"And—?"

"And . . . you know . . . hang out with him."

"Melinda!" Crystal gasped. "He asked you out!"

Melinda gazed at her blankly. Then she let out a yelp. She covered her mouth with her hand.

Then Melinda started dancing around the room with the phone. Crystal pulled down the shade. She didn't want Scott to see this.

Melinda stopped short. "Crystal," she whispered, "what should I wear?"

"I'm glad you asked me that," Crystal said. But before she could say anything more, Melinda rushed out of the room. And closed her door behind her!

Crystal hurried across the hall after her. But the door was locked. "Melinda," she called through the door. "Let me help."

"No!" Melinda answered shrilly.

From inside Melinda's bedroom, Crystal heard the rustle of clothes and the jangle of hangers.

Melinda didn't come out again for twenty minutes. When she paraded back into Crystal's room, Crystal made a face. She couldn't help it.

Her sister had chosen one of her tacky brown skirts and a baggy, shapeless sweater.

"Please tell me you aren't going to wear that," Crystal begged.

Melinda frowned. "You don't like it?"

Crystal hurried to her closet. She shoved open the sliding doors and started pulling out clothes. "How about this?" she asked, holding up a black leather mini.

"Oh, come on," Melinda groaned. "You know I would never wear something like—"

Crystal pulled out another skirt that was only a few inches longer.

"Crystal, that's not me. I would feel—"

'Try it," Crystal begged.

"I can't," Melinda told her.

"Of course you can. They're clothes. You just put them on. What's the big deal?"

"I'd be embarrassed. That's the big deal."

"Melinda, listen to me. You don't look much different from me. In fact, you could be prettier than me if you tried. When you're with Scott, you don't want to hide behind those unflattering clothes of yours, do you?"

Melinda shook her head. "I don't know."

Crystal held the short skirt against Melinda's waist. They both looked in the mirror. "Try it on," Crystal urged. "For me."

Silently, Melinda unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it. Then she pulled on the short skirt and adjusted it around her waist. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered.

Crystal stared at her sister's reflection in the mirror. "Wow."

Melinda blushed. "I look stupid?"

"You look great!"

Melinda studied her reflection. "I do?"

"I'm telling you, Mel. You look so hot in that. It's excellent. Excellent!"

Melinda giggled.

I am such a good sister, Crystal thought, as Melinda twirled and posed in front of the mirror. I

improved Melinda’s chances with Scott by one thousand percent.

I wandered into the den. Hardy Walker and some of the other guys from the football team were watching MTV. All these girls in bikinis dancing to rock music on a beach.

Disgusting!

I grabbed the remote and turned the channel to the Alabama game. They all yelled at me.

Let them yell, I thought. I don't care.

When he called me up, Jake said only a few kids were coming over. But it was turning into a real party.

Why did I agree to come here? I hate parties! This is so stupid! Everyone is getting so out of control and—

One of the guys switched the channel back to MTV. I hurried into the living room. The CD player blasted out rap music. I saw Jake with his arms draped around Meg Hollander.

"Why aren't you dancing?" Jake yelled. I waved at him and kept moving. I wanted to scream.

I headed into the kitchen. I thought maybe I should call Melinda and tell her not to come. I don't want to bring a nice, sweet girl to a party like this.

Travis and Kenny were goofing off. Shouting and squirting each other with whipped cream. They sprayed some on me.

I stared at them. Not saying anything.

That shut them up.

That's right, jerks. You'd better be quiet. Or I'll teach you a lesson.

"Hey, Scott," someone called to me. "Melinda's here."

The guys by the kitchen hooted and whistled. "Wow," somebody said. "Check out that hot outfit!"

No! It can't be!

I couldn't see past the guys. I couldn't see Melinda.

I felt my ears burn.

I strode out of the kitchen and over to the back door.

Not Melinda! No way! How could she?

I banged out the door and onto the porch. The porch had a screen door. I saw her through the screen.

I guess something snapped then. I started to dream even though I was awake.

Melinda opened the wooden gate to the backyard and started up the slate path.

I gasped out loud when I saw her. I couldn't help it.

What was she wearing?

Was she crazy? Had she gone crazy?

My hand shot up. My left hand. The bandage had just come off the day before.

I stared at the dress Melinda wore. So evil. So bad.

"Hi, Scott," she called.

I couldn't believe it. She called to me wearing that dress. That dress up over her knees. The sweater so tight.

"Hi, Scott."

So evil. So completely evil.

She stepped up to the porch.

I pulled back my fist—and smashed it as hard as I could into her jaw.

paying attention, I guess. I put my hand through the screen by mistake. Ha-ha."

Don't tell her how angry you were, I ordered myself. Don't tell her how those boys made fun of her clothes. Her nice, proper clothes.

She looked as good and sweet as she always did.

"I guess we could tape it," Melinda was saying. At first, I didn't know what she meant. Then I saw that she was studying the tear in the screen.

I gazed at her. Soft green eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. "Can I tell you something?" I said. "I'm glad you came. I was starting to wonder if—"

She blushed and lowered her eyes. "Yeah, I know, I'm late. I'm sorry. I had to change my clothes. My sister was trying to make me—"

"Hey, no problem," I said.

She stood there shyly. For a moment, I didn't understand. Then it hit me. She was waiting for me to ask her in!

It had been so long since I'd been around a polite, proper girl, I almost forgot my manners. I pushed open the door for her, and she stepped inside.

Now here is a good girl, I thought as I guided her through the party to a quiet room. Here's a girl who knows her manners, knows how to behave.

Could it be?

Have I finally found the right girl?

"So did he kiss you?" Crystal asked eagerly, following Melinda into her room.

"No. Of course not," Melinda replied. "It wasn't anything like that."

Crystal frowned. That's not good, she thought.

"Why?" Melinda asked, turning to her. "Do you think that's a bad sign or something?"

"No, no, no," Crystal said quickly. "But—"

"But what?" Melinda demanded.

"Well ... he probably would have given you a good-night kiss if you had listened to me about the skirt," Crystal insisted. "That's all I'm saying."

"Ugh!" Melinda groaned. "Would you please give me a break, Crystal. I'm not changing my whole way of dressing for a boy. Where do you get your values, anyway? That's just sick."

She peeled off her large gray sweater and folded it neatly.

"Hey, I know guys," Crystal snapped defensively.

But she felt bad. Melinda comes home all excited, and I put her down. "Mel?" she said. "You're right. I'm—I'm sorry."

"That's okay," Melinda replied quietly, putting away her sweater.

"So did you have a good time?" Crystal asked.

"We had such a good talk. You won't believe it," Melinda said.

"What?"

"Before I left—"

"Yeah?"

"When we were standing by the car—"

"Yeah? Yeah? Melinda! What?" Crystal begged.

"He told me."

Crystal wanted to scream. "Told you what?"

"About what happened to his old girlfriend. Crystal, Scott cried."

Crystal felt a pang of jealousy. She hoped she would be the one to help him get over his broken heart. "Are you serious? He cried?" she asked.

"Well, only a little. For a second. Oh, Crystal. You won't believe what Scott went through. His last girlfriend . . . she died."

Crystal stared at Melinda in shock. "Really? She died? What happened?"

"They went swimming. In a neighbor's pool. At night. They didn't know the pool was drained. She dove in—"

Crystal covered her ears.

"I know," Melinda said.

They stared at each other.

"That's why he hasn't gone out with anyone in Shadyside," Melinda continued. "He told himself he wouldn't go out with anyone ever again. Sort of in her honor. And also because, even though it wasn't his fault, he feels guilty."

"Oh, wow," Crystal murmured.

"And then . . ." Melinda continued. "After we finished talking about that, Scott asked me if I wanted to see a movie Saturday night. Do you believe it?"

"Excellent!" Crystal replied, trying to sound sincere.

Something nice has finally happened to Melinda, she thought.

So why don't I feel happier about it? Is it just jealousy? Or is it something else?

"Hold still!" Crystal ordered.

She trailed her sister around her room, holding a blusher in one hand and a makeup brush in the other.

"Get away!" Melinda protested. She flung open her closet, stared inside, then closed it again. "I can't believe it's Saturday night already," she muttered.

She checked her watch. "Crystal, I don't have time for this. Scott is going to be here any second."

"I only want to put on a little," Crystal pleaded. "Give you some color. So you don't look so pale and pasty."

"No way!" Melinda charged into the bathroom and started brushing her teeth.

"Melinda, what are you doing? You already brushed your teeth!"

Melinda turned from the sink, her mouth foaming with toothpaste. "You make me feel so bad about the way I look," she said, her voice catching. "Why do you do it, Crystal? I really can't stand it."

"Mel, I'm sorry. I don't mean to do that," Crystal said. "Really. I'm excited for you. I just want to help."

'This is the way I dress," Melinda said.

"I know that," Crystal said. "And you look great. All I'm saying is that you're a little pale. One little touch of blush," Crystal insisted, holding up the brush. "He won't even know you're wearing it, I promise."

"No! No way!"

The doorbell rang.

"He's here," Melinda said. "I'm not wearing any. If Scott thinks I look so awful, why did he ask me out?" She moved toward the stairs.

"Mel— wait!" Crystal hurried after her sister. She grabbed Melinda's wrist before she could start down the stairs.

"Here," Crystal said. She dabbed the rose-colored blush at Melinda's cheek. Melinda groaned. "Hold still," Crystal ordered, adding blush to the other cheek.

Melinda jerked away.

"Mel! Wait! It's all smeared."

"That's enough!" Melinda cried.

She rushed down the stairs and slipped out the front door.

No!

I don't believe it.

Makeup? Melinda wearing makeup! It's so cheap. Melinda glanced up at me uncertainly. What do you want me to say, Melinda? That I

like the filthy, disgusting way you painted your cheeks?

"Hi," she said, lowering her eyes.

"Hi," I said. I forced a smile to my face.

How will I get through this night? I asked myself. I can't. I can't.

I opened the car door for her and closed it behind her. I felt like slamming it on her head!

Calm, I told myself. Stay calm, Scott.

I hurried around the car and climbed inside. Unbelievable! One date, and already she's turning bad. Turning bad the way Dana did, the way Lynne did.

Without a word, I turned on the engine and sped off down the street.

Melinda kept peeking over at me, giving me these tiny, hopeful smiles. All nervous.

Even in the dark, I saw those bright red circles on her cheeks. Glopped on there. Like . . . like dried blood.

Blood . . .

Now there's a good idea. Hey, Melinda! You want a lot of red on your face? I know just the thing.

"So," she said quietly, "what's up?"

"Not much," I muttered.

I heard something rattle. What was that?

Melinda's door. I didn't shut it hard enough.

That was it. I suddenly knew what I had to do.

"I'm really excited about seeing this movie," Melinda said in that soft voice of hers. "I can't

believe I found someone who likes old movies, too."

"They're the only good movies," I told her, keeping my eyes on the road.

"Yes, I know," she answered. "I mean, well—I think so, too."

I swerved onto the highway on-ramp. Melinda braced herself against the dashboard. You don't like how fast I'm driving, do you, Melinda?

Too bad!

"Scott, why are you taking the highway?" she asked me.

"Fastest way there," I told her. Gave her a little grin. That shut her up.

The highway was nearly deserted.

Good.

I pushed down on the accelerator. Flicked the lever that popped open all the locks in the car.

I glanced over at Melinda. She was staring out the window. Her body tense.

Perfect. Stay calm, Scott. You can do this. You can.

I stepped down on the gas, watched the speedometer needle jerk. Seventy. Eighty . . .

I shot my hand down and unfastened Melinda's seatbelt. Then I flung open her door.

Cold air blasted through the car.

Melinda screamed.

I threw my body toward her.

And shoved her out the door.

door—it was rattling. Had to close it. Sorry if. . . if I scared you."

"Oh, wow." She pressed her hand against her chest. "I—I didn't know what was happening. I— I'm sorry I screamed."

"That's okay."

Why did I stop myself? It would have been so simple. No one around to see.

One good shove—and she would have been road kill.

I'm too softhearted, I guess. Or maybe I like her too much. I think she deserves a second chance.

Yes. One more chance.

Because I'm such a nice guy.

One more chance, Melinda.

What is up around here? Crystal asked herself. I'm home alone, and Mom and Melinda are out on dates!

What is wrong with this picture?

Shaking her head, Crystal wandered into the living room. She turned on the TV, flipped through the channels, switched it off.

Sighing, she made her way into the kitchen. Checked out the fridge. Nothing appealed to her.

She headed back to her room. Halfway down the hall, she changed her mind and climbed the attic stairs.

Cold wind slipped through the cracks in the shingles of the roof.

Crystal aimlessly explored the dusty room.

Poking in boxes. Flipping through old photo albums. Then she spotted an ancient rocking horse she used to love and moved toward it.

"Ohhh!" Crystal let out a low cry—and froze. She stared down at her feet. I almost forgot about those missing floorboards! she realized.

Through the hole in the floor, she could see the worn carpet runner in the hallway below. She felt dizzy.

Crystal carefully stepped back from the hole. She made her way to Melinda's armchair. She curled up in it and paged through some old magazines she found in a corner.

An hour or so later she heard someone climbing the attic stairs.

"Hi," Melinda called. "I noticed the light up here."

Crystal felt like crying. We've switched places, she thought. Now Melinda is out on dates with Scott—and I'm up in the attic, reading by myself all night.

Don't spoil Melinda's night, Crystal ordered herself. "Did you have fun?" she asked, working to keep her voice cheerful.

Melinda didn't answer. Crystal raised her eyes to her. "Mel? What's the matter?"

"He ... he hates me!" Melinda wailed.

"What? What are you talking about? That's ridiculous, Mel. Scott doesn't hate you. He likes you. A lot. That is so obvious."

Crystal carefully made her way across the dusty

room, watching the floorboards as she walked. She pulled Melinda over to the chair and sat her down. "Talk to me," Crystal said.

"He just sat there," Melinda said. "The whole time. He acted so angry—as if he couldn't wait to get rid of me."

Crystal sighed. She pulled a carton close to Melinda's chair and sat down. "Melinda," Crystal said, "I'm telling you. This is a no-brainer. All guys are alike. Scott likes you, but—"

Melinda sniffled. "But what?"

"You're sending him the wrong signals."

Melinda didn't answer.

"You need to make a few little changes," Crystal said gently.

Melinda stared at her. "Like what?"

Crystal reached for Melinda's wire-rimmed glasses. Melinda jerked her head back.

Crystal pulled her hands away. Then Melinda's shoulders slumped. "Okay," she whispered.

Crystal removed the glasses and folded them. "That makes such a difference," Crystal told her. "You wouldn't believe it."

Melinda shook her head.

"It does," Crystal insisted. "I'm telling you. Take my advice and Scott will go nuts."

Melinda stared at her fretfully. "Do you really think so?"

"I know so," Crystal replied. "Now ... a few other little changes. ..."

"Hey, Crystal, did you get the answer to that chem problem?"

Crystal tiptoed up and tapped Suzie Burke on the shoulder. Suzie's mouth dropped open. She stared from Crystal to Melinda and back.

Melinda stood in front of her open locker, pulling out her books for her next period class. She had an embarrassed expression on her face. Embarrassed, but happy.

"Melinda!" Suzie gushed. "I thought you were—"

"You thought she was me," Crystal said, crossing the hall to stand next to her sister. "Don't feel bad. It's been happening all day."

"Whoa!" Suzie exclaimed. "You look great, Melinda!" She waved and headed down the crowded hallway.

"Hey, what about the chem problem?" Crystal called after her. But Suzie turned the corner without glancing back.

"This is fun!" Crystal exclaimed. "Suzie was totally fooled. Aren't you glad you let me make you over?"

"I guess so," Melinda answered. She glanced at her watch. "It's almost two."

"So?"

"So . . . you said I would stop feeling so uncomfortable by this afternoon. I don't. I'm—I'm really not sure about this."

The bell rang. Crystal closed Melinda's locker door, snapping the lock shut and spinning the dial.

"Well, I'm sure enough for both of us," she assured her. "So relax and—"

Crystal stopped midsentence. She spotted Scott at the end of the hall. He had his back to them. "Hold on a second," she told Melinda. "Don't go away."

"I've got history," Melinda protested.

"Don't go away!" Crystal called back to her.

Crystal couldn't wait to see Scott's reaction. She headed down the hall, trying to think of some excuse to bring him back to Melinda. I want to make sure he knows exactly how much attention Melinda has been getting from everyone all day.

She rushed up behind him—and stopped.

What is he doing? Crystal gasped.

What is wrong with him?

"Oh, hi," he said finally. He wiped his sweaty face with his sleeve. "Can you believe it?" He nodded to the locker. "I forgot my combination for the tenth time!"

He gave his locker another punch.

Relief spread through Crystal. "For a second I thought—"

He studied her face. "You thought. . . ?"

"You know. I thought you were really losing it."

He laughed. "Oh, I am. I am."

They both laughed together.

"Come on," Crystal said, tugging him by the arm.

He stared down at her hand on his bare arm. She felt that old chemistry. The sparks flying between them.

She tried to ignore the feeling. He is going out with Melinda now, she told herself.

"Come on," Crystal repeated. "There's someone I want you to see."

She led him down the hall to Melinda. And grinned when Scott's face turned bright red and his mouth dropped open in amazement.

"How about the orange suede skirt?" "I wore that to school yesterday," Melinda reminded her. She shoved aside hanger after hanger in Crystal's walk-in closet.

Crystal smiled. Melinda is really getting into her new look. It had been only a few days, but Crystal had trouble picturing the old Mel.

Crystal turned on the radio, thumbing the dial past all the news flashes about storm warnings until she found a song she liked. She shook her head, humming along with the music.

"Crystal?" Melinda called from deep inside the closet.

"What?"

"Can I borrow this black vinyl purse?" Melinda held the purse out of the closet. "It sort of goes with the rest of the outfit."

"No problem," Crystal called.

Melinda stepped out of the closet, slipping the purse strap over the shoulder of her leather jacket.

"Turn around," Crystal told her.

Melinda spun slowly.

Unbelievable. Crystal felt as if she were staring into a mirror. Now that Melinda wore contacts— and Crystal's clothes and makeup—people could hardly tell them apart.

"You really think this is going to work?" Melinda asked.

"A hundred percent. Scott will go nuts," Crystal promised.

"I don't know," Melinda said, gazing fretfully into the mirror.

"Melinda," Crystal said, "he asked you out again, didn't he? That shows it's working. Two Saturday nights in a row. That's pretty serious."

The doorbell rang. Melinda hurried out of the room

Now I have to decide what to wear myself,

Crystal thought. She didn't want to spend another night hanging around the house alone. So she had made plans with Meg Hollander. They were going to check out the Red Heat dance club.

Crystal decided on the orange suede skirt and a silky shirt. She put on her own makeup and fixed her own hair. Hey—I'm almost as pretty as Melinda, she teased herself.

When she met up with Meg at the dance club, Crystal tried to have fun. But she found herself thinking a lot about Lynne. She and Lynne had come to Red Heat often.

All night she kept remembering things about her friend. Lynne's funeral. Hanging out with Lynne in Scott's room.

Scott pounding on his locker.

Why did I think of that? she wondered.

Crystal decided to leave early. She found Meg dancing with a guy from school. She told Meg she didn't feel well.

Then she hurried out to the car. It started to rain before she pulled out of the parking lot. By the time she reached her house, the rain was slashing down full force.

Crystal parked in the driveway. Then she turned and stared at Scott's white clapboard house through the thick sheets of rain.

She couldn't stop thinking about Scott. He had appeared so furious earlier today, banging on his locker like a crazy person. Crystal had actually felt scared watching him.

And what was he muttering?

No way to behave?

What did that have to do with forgetting his locker combination?

Crystal climbed out of the car. Ducking her head, she ran up the front path. Then she fumbled for her key, and let herself into the house.

Her clothes and hair were drenched. Her makeup was smeared. She almost didn't recognize herself in the hall mirror. "Hello?" she called. "Anyone home?"

But she was all alone in the house again. Mom was out on her third date with Paul Sloane, and Melinda—

No way to behave.

The words repeated in her mind. No way to behave.

Where had she heard that phrase before?

Somewhere, somewhere . . .

She wandered into the living room, turned on the lights, and clicked on the TV. Local news. Reports on the storm.

"So stay at home if you possibly can," the newscaster said. "We're in for a rough one tonight."

Crystal sat on the sofa and pressed the remote. The picture faded to black.

No way to behave.

Lynne's suicide note!

Lynne wrote those words in her note, Crystal realized. That's why the phrase sounded familiar.

Crystal shivered, remembering that awful night. No way to behave. It didn't sound like something Lynne would say.

But then, Crystal never thought her friend would kill herself.

Thunder boomed.

Crystal shivered. She felt chilled all over. She stood up. Maybe she'd take a long hot shower.

But as she climbed the stairs, she kept picturing Scott at his locker.

"No way to behave," he had muttered.

"No way to behave," Lynne's note read.

Crystal shook her head.

Weird . . .

I kept my eyes on the road, driving fast. Rain slashed down in sheets. I turned the wipers on high, but they couldn't clear the water away fast enough.

I'm drowning, I thought. The whole world is flooding. And I'm drowning.

Good. I'd rather be dead than spend another second with this evil girl.

"Scott?" Melinda asked softly, breaking into my angry thoughts.

"Yeah?" I didn't glance over at her. I couldn't stand the sight of her.

"Is—is there something wrong?" Melinda asked me.

Something wrong? I thought. You bet there is something wrong. The way you're dressed, for

starters. The way you have been dressed at school these last few days.

You should hear what the guys are saying. About you. About my girlfriend.

Do you know what that does to me? How that rips me apart?

Melinda had her coat on now. But I knew what she had on underneath it.

When we arrived at the restaurant, I helped her off with her coat. I tried to be polite even though I couldn't stand the sight of her.

What had happened to her? I liked her so much. Why did she change?

After we ate, I just wanted to get rid of her. I pushed down on the accelerator. I tried not to let my anger take over.

"Scott, can I ask you something? Did you have a bad time tonight?" Melinda asked.

"No," I answered. I didn't want to talk to her.

"You seem like you did." Her voice caught.

As if she were the one in pain, I thought. Ha!

"I promise you I didn't have a bad time," I muttered.

Melinda nodded at me, then turned and stared at the rain.

Maybe if I drive fast enough, I can escape from her. Escape from every girl like her.

I glanced at the hurt expression on her face. "What's wrong?" I forced myself to ask.

Melinda hesitated. "I . . . I've been trying so hard," she said. "Crystal, too. She's been trying to

help me. Giving me all these makeup tips and everything. But—"

What? I thought. What did she say?

"You probably haven't even noticed that I've been dressing differently," Melinda continued.

"Sure I have," I replied. I heard a buzzing in my ears. Like a million bees swarming over me.

"I've noticed," I said, biting my lower lip. Biting it till it bled.

I swerved sharply, a huge wave of water splashing over the windshield. Then I parked.

Melinda gazed out the window. But I knew she couldn't see anything. Not with this rain.

A wide streak of lightning lit up the street.

A deserted street.

No one around.

"Why are we stopping here?" Melinda asked, turning to me.

"The rain," I said. "I can't drive in this. I just can't see. We'd better wait until it slows down."

"Yeah. It's really pouring," she agreed.

I reached into my pocket. And drew out my Swiss Army knife.

My heart pounded as I opened the knife.

And fingered the biggest, sharpest blade.

Then—one quick swipe across her throat.

did everything Crystal said, but. . ." Her voice trailed off.

What does Crystal have to do with this? I thought.

"Everything I'm wearing is hers," Melinda blurted out, sounding kind of breathless. "She promised me you would like it."

At last, her words began to sink in.

Crystal! Crystal was behind the big change in Melinda.

Of course. I should have known.

It was all Crystal's fault. Her evil sister.

Melinda is the perfect girl for me after all. I knew there was something good between us. I love Melinda.

And I don't have to hurt her. I don't have to kill her.

"I had no idea Crystal gave you those clothes," I told Melinda. "I was so angry at you."

"You were? Why?" Melinda sounded so surprised.

"Because I like you the way you are," I explained.

Her mouth dropped open. "You do?"

"I do." I stared out at the rain. "I didn't want you to change a thing. But I understand now." I gripped the steering wheel with both hands. "Everything is all Crystal's fault."

"Crystal was only trying to help," Melinda said softly.

US

That's sweet, Melinda, I thought. It's good of you to defend your sister. But I know the truth. Yes. Everything is Crystal's fault. And now—

I don't have to kill you, Melinda. I have to kill her.

Rain drummed on the roof. Wind rattled the windows. The bare branches of the swaying trees clattered against the house.

It feels as if the storm is trying to get inside, Crystal thought. She rubbed her freshly shampooed hair with a towel as she wandered back into her bedroom. She clicked on the little TV on top of her dresser.

I need a movie, she thought. A funny one. Something to make me forget about the storm.

But all she could find were bulletins about the weather. Flash floods had closed down most of the highways. Cars were stranded all over the county.

Crystal felt a stab of panic. What if Mom or Melinda were caught out there?

Relax, she told herself. It's not that late. They probably haven't even started home. They are probably still in some nice warm restaurant or movie or someplace.

Crystal clicked off the TV. She picked up her brush from the nightstand and began running it through her wet hair.

Then she heard the front door open downstairs.

Crystal ran to the landing. When Melinda turned around, Crystal gasped.

The rain had plastered her hair to her head. Makeup streaked her face.

Crystal raced down the stairs. "Oh, Melinda, I'm so glad you're back. Are you okay?"

Melinda didn't answer. She balanced on one foot as she pulled off one of Crystal's cowboy boots. "I wrecked these," Melinda said sullenly. She tugged off the other boot.

"Don't worry about that," Crystal said. "I'm glad you're all right. But why are you back so early?"

Melinda didn't answer. She turned her back on Crystal and headed into the kitchen.

Crystal followed her. What is Melinda's problem? she wondered.

Melinda started coughing. Crystal filled the kettle. Her sister could probably use some hot cocoa in a hurry. So could she.

"I'm not having whatever you're making," Melinda announced.

She sat down at the table, her back and shoulders straight. Tense. Little drops of water ran down her face.

She obviously did not have a good time tonight. "So. I guess the date wasn't a big success," Crystal said sympathetically.

"You could say that." Melinda turned slowly and glared at Crystal. "Thanks to you."

"Excuse me?" Crystal demanded.

"Don't play innocent with me," Melinda cried.

"Melinda, I really don't know what you're—"

"Scott set me straight," Melinda interrupted. "He told me everything, Crystal. Everything."

"Everything about what?"

"How you always liked him. How you kept flirting with him. Coming on to him. How you got so jealous when he decided to go out with me. You wrecked my relationship with Scott on purpose!"

"Huh?" Crystal gasped in disbelief. "How can you say that? I got you to change your hair and your—"

Melinda stood up suddenly, clutching her wet dress with both hands. "That's right! I never wanted to dress like this! Never! But you made me because you knew Scott would hate it! Just like he hated you and Lynne for the way you dressed. The way you flirted with him."

Crystal's eyes widened. "He did? Scott said he hated the way we—?"

"I always knew it was no way to behave," Melinda said angrily.

Crystal froze.

No way to behave.

Something clicked in her brain. Like the last piece of a puzzle sliding into place.

The kettle shrieked. Crystal turned off the burner.

"I know you're angry with me," Crystal started. "But just listen to what I have to say. I think there is something really wrong with Scott."

"Don't even try," Melinda snapped. "Don't even try to wreck things between Scott and me. Because you can't. You understand? You can't!"

"Mel, listen to me!" Crystal pleaded.

Melinda turned and rushed out of the kitchen. Crystal ran after her. Grabbed her arm. Melinda tried to pull free.

Crystal blurted it out all in one breath. "I think Scott has something wrong with him. I think he can get very violent. I ... I know it sounds crazy, Mel. But I think he even might have had something to do with Lynne's death."

There. She said it out loud. This totally crazy idea. She hoped it would sound insane when she said it.

It didn't.

Melinda pulled her arm free. With a loud cry, she ran up the stairs.

"Listen to me!" Crystal yelled as she chased after Melinda. "Remember I told you how he went so nuts one day because he couldn't remember his combination?"

Melinda yanked open the door to her room, then turned to face Crystal. "I don't want to hear it!"

"His last girlfriend, Mel. She died in some strange way, right?" Crystal rushed on. "He told you so himself."

"It was an accident. A horrible accident!" Melinda told her. "I don't want to hear any more of your lies." She dove into her room and slammed the door.

"Melinda, you know I'm right," Crystal called through the door. "He's gone out with two girls who died. Two. Don't you think that's an awfully big coincidence? I mean, what is he? The most unlucky guy in the entire universe?"

"You're unbelievable! Do you know that?" Melinda shouted back. "I finally go out with a guy and you decide he's a psycho killer. How about that coincidence? Huh?"

Crystal grabbed the doorknob and tried to turn it. "Unlock the door," she begged. "Please. I really need to talk to you about this."

"I'm changing my clothes," Melinda called. "Go away! I don't want to talk to you about Scott or anything else."

Crystal wandered unhappily back to her own room. She could tell Melinda needed time to calm down.

So do I, Crystal realized. I'm shaking all over. How could my own sister accuse me of such hateful things? I'm only worried about her, that's all. . .

A crack of lightning outside the window made Crystal gasp.

Scott!

She glimpsed him in his bedroom.

He held a big knife in his hand. Slashing it back and forth in front of him.

I'm right about him, Crystal thought. Her throat went dry. She stared out the window, frozen in horror.

He slashed the knife back and forth. Slashed the air. Slashed furiously.

Crystal clicked off her light. Did he see me? she wondered.

Another flash of lightning.

No one in Scott's window now. No one there.

Crystal pressed her face up against the window glass.

"Huh?" Something moved across Scott's backyard.

She struggled to see through the rain-smeared window.

Yes! A figure moved across the dark lawn. Heading toward the porch. Her porch.

Crystal dashed across the hall to Melinda's room. Pounded on her door.

No answer.

The doorbell rang downstairs.

It's Scott! Crystal knew.

It's Scott.

What is he doing here? What does he want?

stupid little games." Click! Melinda twisted the lock open.

Scott barged in, rain pouring off him. He stopped short when he saw both sisters.

"Oh, Scott, Fm so glad you—" Melinda began. But she stopped with a sharp intake of air.

Crystal followed Melinda's gaze—and felt all the strength seep out of her body.

The knife glistened in Scott's hand.

"Don't worry, Melinda," I said, surprised at how calm I felt. "I won't hurt you. I didn't come to hurt you."

Of course I wouldn't hurt Melinda in any way.

She was so good. So well-behaved.

But Crystal had to be punished. Crystal had to pay.

I saw Crystal's eyes on the knife. I raised the blade high.

Melinda screamed.

Crystal spun to the stairs.

"Scott, no!" I heard Melinda scream behind me.

She's so good. She wants to save her sister, even though her sister is so evil.

I leapt up the stairs after Crystal.

Crystal cried out as she stumbled. And went down.

She started to scramble up on all fours.

But I was too fast for her.

I clamped my free hand around her ankle.

She kicked and screamed. But I held on.

I gave a hard tug. Her chin hit the step. She let out a soft grunt of pain.

I yanked her back down.

Crystal dug her fingers into the steps. Fighting to pull away from me. She shrieked in pain as one of her nails ripped off.

It made me laugh.

The evil ones deserve the pain they get.

I gave another hard yank. Crystal bounced down the stairs.

"Hey—!" I cried out as she flipped onto her back. She was stronger than I thought. She pulled up her legs and smashed both feet into my chest.

My breath went out in a whoosh. I saw bright lights. Everything flashed. I crashed to my knees. "No way to behave!" I choked out. "No way to behave, Crystal."

I sucked in air.

The bright lights stopped flashing.

I raised the knife high over my head.

"No way to behave," I told her. "No way to behave."

I think she understood me.

She shut her eyes as the knife blade came slicing down.

trying to save me from making a terrible mistake? Saving me from punishing Melinda?

I glanced from one to the other. The stairs tilted. The banister curled and uncurled like a long worm. Everything started to spin.

I tried to stand up. But I felt too dizzy.

"That's Melinda! That's Melinda!" the girl below me repeated.

Crystal? Melinda?

Did I make a mistake?

Yes.

It was Crystal at the bottom of the stairs.

I forced myself to my feet.

I took a deep breath. Raised the knife. And charged at Crystal.

Melinda screamed as Scott dove down the stairs toward her. She leapt to the wall as Scott brought the knife down.

The blade bit deep into the wall. Scott dragged the blade down, tearing a long, jagged strip from the flowery wallpaper.

My trick worked, Melinda thought.

I saved Crystal's life by confusing Scott. I made Scott think that I'm Crystal.

But now what do I do?

Scott advanced toward Melinda. She backed up until he had her cornered by the coatrack.

He raised the knife again.

"No way to behave ... No way to behave . . ." "Fm not Crystal!" Melinda shrieked. "Scott—

I'm not Crystal! I'm Melinda! Really! I'm

Melinda!" He brought the knife down anyway.

Melinda grabbed Crystal's arm and pulled her away. "Got to get away from here. Got to call the police. Quick. He's going to wake up. He's going to come after us. The police . . ."

Into the living room. Crystal felt so dazed, so light and trembly, as if in a shimmering dream.

The phone. Where is the phone? Where do we keep it?

Her brain whirred. Nothing looked the same.

She narrowed her eyes. Tried to focus.

Melinda already had the receiver to her ear. She let out a sick cry. "It's dead."

Dead? Crystal thought. Who is dead?

We're both alive.

"The phone—it's dead," Melinda repeated weakly. "Because of the storm, I guess." She grabbed Crystal's arm. "What do we do now?"

"Run," Crystal managed to murmur.

"No. The rain—" Melinda replied. "We won't get far. He'll catch us. He'll—"

They heard a loud groan from the front of the house. Scott. Scott reviving. Waking up.

And suddenly they were both running. Running past him. Running up the stairs.

Neither of them said a word.

No police, Crystal thought. No one to help us. We have no choice. We have to hide. We have to hide where Scott won't find us.

"The attic," Melinda whispered. "We'll hide up there."

They stumbled up the attic stairs. Melinda shoved open the attic door.

They both paused. Listened.

No sound of Scott following them. Melinda quietly shut the door behind them.

Darkness. Total darkness. Rain pounding against the roof. Like a steady roar of thunder overhead.

Melinda led Crystal across the creaking attic floorboards. "Help me open this," she whispered. She stepped up to the huge old steamer trunk standing on one end.

They struggled to work the stiff latches. Then they squeezed inside, leaving the twin doors open a crack.

Pressed together, Crystal could feel Melinda's heartbeat. And hear her own rapid breathing.

Then, over the steady drone of the rain on the roof, she heard something that made her breath catch.

Footsteps. Slow, steady footsteps creaking up the attic stairs.

I whipped the knife back and forth in front of me as I continued across the attic.

Something cold brushed against my face. I reached for it. A chain, I realized.

I yanked it hard. A light bulb snapped on. Dim light washed over the attic.

My eyes adjusted slowly.

Old clothes hung from a metal coatrack. I shoved the rack out of my way. It slammed into the wall.

"Crys-tal," I whispered. "I'm here, Crystal. You didn't get away. I'm here."

Silence.

I saw a black steamer trunk at an odd angle. As if someone had pulled it away from the wall.

I smiled.

Crystal, you're evil. But you aren't as clever as you think.

I shoved the trunk. Knocked it against the wall.

Someone inside uttered a cry.

Then two girls scrambled out. Two girls with wet hair. Two girls in bathrobes. Two girls with scared, pale faces and bright green eyes.

I couldn't tell them apart!

My head! My head felt about to explode.

"Which one?" I growled, jabbing the knife at them.

They both pressed themselves back against the wall.

"Crystal!" I shouted. "Which one—?"

They didn't answer.

I screamed in frustration.

The girls screamed, too. And raced past me.

Trying to fool me. Trying to trick me. Trying to escape.

But I wouldn't let them escape. Not this time.

I watched them run.

Which was Crystal? Which was Melinda?

I decided there was only one way to make sure I punished the right one.

Kill them both.

They ran to the opposite wall. Even in the dim light, I could see the fear on their faces.

"Good-bye," I said softly. Calmly. So calm. So calm now that I knew it was all over.

"Good-bye."

I raised the knife and ran at them.

Crystal watched Scott's hands fly up.

She saw his startled expression. Heard his short cry.

Then a heavy thud.

Then she and Melinda were alone in the attic.

Huddled together against the wall. All alone.

Scott had fallen through the hole in the attic floor.

The two girls hesitated for a moment, catching their breath. Blinking hard. Waiting for the room to stop tilting and swaying.

Then they moved cautiously to the hole in the floor. Bent down. And peered at the hallway below.

Scott lay sprawled facedown on the floor. One arm twisted under him at an unnatural angle. The knife still clutched in his other hand.

Still. So still.

"Good," Crystal murmured. "Good." She led the way down the attic stairs.

They stood over Scott's body for a moment.

"We're safe," Crystal whispered.

"I—I still can't believe it," Melinda whispered back.

Melinda turned away. "I'll try the phone. Maybe it's back."

Crystal watched Melinda hurry to her room. Then Crystal lowered her gaze once again to Scott's body.

So sick, she thought. He was such a sick, sick boy.

And now he's dead.

Crystal started to step away when Scott's hand shot up and grabbed her ankle.

"Crystal?"

"Yeah?"

Crystal's bedroom door opened and Melinda stepped in, wearing jeans, a leotard, even a little makeup.

It had been three months since the horrible nightmare with Scott. But sometimes Crystal still felt surprised by the changes in Melinda. And in herself.

"It's five to three," Melinda announced, pointing at her watch. "Pride and Prejudice starts any minute."

Some things never changed. Melinda still loved watching really old black-and-white movies on TV.

Crystal sat up on her bed. She tossed down the copy of Pride and Prejudice Melinda ordered her to read to prepare for the movie. She had only reached page six.

"I'm not going to like it," Crystal told her sister. "You know that, right? I mean, you won't take this personally? But this book—I can't even read it."

Melinda grinned. "Watch the movie. That's all I ask."

Crystal shrugged. She and Melinda had fun on the snowy Sunday afternoons they often spent together. Somehow the horror of three months before had brought them much closer together.

Melinda turned and stared out the window. At the house across the yard. Scott's house.

Crystal didn't say anything.

They didn't talk about it much. The terror. But it

was always there between them. As close as the house next door.

Scott's parents had moved away. Scott was in a mental hospital, getting the care he needed. He would probably spend the rest of his life there.

"Movie time," Melinda said, reaching for the TV remote.

But Crystal heard a sound outside the window. She climbed up and crossed the room. "Hey, Mel—look!" she called.

Melinda joined her at the window. They both gazed down at the driveway next door. Crystal focused on the car that pulled up behind the large moving van.

"New neighbors," Melinda said. "Someone is moving in."

Crystal squinted into the gray light, watching the new family climb out of the car. "Oh, wow," she murmured. "Check out that guy! Is he our new neighbor? What a major babe!"

"Move over!" Melinda cried, elbowing Crystal out of the way. "I saw him first!"

Table of Contents

- Pages

- Back Cover