Contents

PartOne:TheCheers

Chapter1:TheEvilSisterChapter2:NervousTimeChapter3:FirstScreamChapter4:ATragic

AccidentChapter5:Deathofa

CheerleaderChapter6:“It’sYourFault!”

PartTwo:TheFall

Chapter7:TheNewCaptain

Chapter8:KimmyQuitsChapter9:BobbiandChipChapter10:Horrorinthe

HallChapter11:WhoWas

Screaming?Chapter12:ChipIsBuriedChapter13:“IWasDead”Chapter14:KimmyHasa

Problem

Chapter15:TheAccusationsFly

Chapter16:StrangeShadows

Chapter17:CrackingUp

PartThree:TheEvil

Chapter18:InHotWaterChapter19:WhatCorky

FoundChapter20:CorkyFiguresIt

Out

Chapter21:Kimmy’sSurprise

Chapter22:Jennifer’sSurprise

Chapter23:“I’mNotJennifer”

Chapter24:IntotheCoffinChapter25:CorkyLosesChapter26:Buried

TheSecondEvilExcerpt

AbouttheAuthor

PARTONE

TheCheers

Chapter1

TheEvilSister

“Youareevil,”Corkysaidin a hushed whisper. “Youaretrulyevil.”

The words made Bobbigrin, her green eyes lightingupwithpleasure.Shegrippedthe rat tighter around its ribcage.

“Where are you going toput it?” Corky asked, stillrubbing the sleep from hereyes.Thefloorboardsfeltcoldbeneathherbare feet.“RightinfrontofSean’sdoor?”

Bobbi nodded and tiptoeddownthenarrowhall toward

their brother’s room. Herblond hair was still tangledfromsleep.Bothgirlswereinlong,cottonnightshirts.

“Sean is terrified of rats,”Corkywhispered,hereyesonher little brother’s door,expecting him to burst outand ruin Bobbi’s littlesurprise.

“Iknow,”Bobbisaidwithan evil snicker. She carefullysettheratdowninthecenter

of the doorway. When Seancame out for breakfast, he’dhavetowalkrightintoit.

“It looks so real,” Corkywhispered. “It doesn’t looklike rubber.” The floorcreaked noisily and Corkystopped. She set one handagainst the peeling wallpaperandleanedonit.

“It’s the hair that makesit,”Bobbireplied.Havingsetdown the realistic-looking

creature, she and her sisterstarted to back away, theireyes on Sean’s closed door.“It’s verygood rathair.Veryauthentic.”

“Girls? What are youdoing?”Theirmother’s voiceinterrupted them fromdownstairs, startling themboth. “Are you dressed yet?You’re going to be late.Come down for breakfast.AndmakesureSeanisup.”

“Don’t worry,” Bobbiwhispered, grinning at hersister, “Sean will be wide-awakerealsoon!”

Chuckling about Bobbi’slittle joke, both girlsdescended the creakingstaircase and joined theirparents in the kitchen. Mr.Corcoran, their handsome,young-looking father, wasalready at the table, wiping

eggoff his chinwith a papernapkin.

“Yuck. Not poached eggsagain,”Bobbigroaned.

Mrs. Corcoran turnedaround, a pale reflection ofher vibrant, blond daughters.Shestaredat theirnightshirts,frowning.“That’showyou’regoingtoschool?”

“Yeah,” Bobbi answeredquickly. “All the girls are

wearingnightshirts.It’ssortofatrend.”

“Whydowehavetohavepoached eggs?” Corky asked,pouring herself a half glass oforangejuice.

“You need a lot ofenergy,”theirmotherreplied,dumping two runny eggs ontwo pieces of toast with aplasticspatula.

Mr. Corcoran yawnedloudly. “I don’t sleepwell in

thishouse.”“No one does,” Corky

muttered, taking her place atthe breakfast table. The twoeggsonherplatestaredupather like giant, runny eyes.“It’stheghosts.”

“Yeah. This place isdefinitely haunted,” Bobbiquicklyagreed.

“Haunted? That’sridiculous.”Mrs.Corcoransetdown a plate in front of

Bobbi,whomadeadisgustedface.

“This girl I met at school—Lisa Blume—she told methat all the houses on FearStreet are haunted,” Corkysaid,pokinghereggswithherfork,watchingtheyellowrunoverthetoast.

“Justbecauseahouseisoldandcreakyitdoesn’tmeanit’shaunted,” Mr. Corcoranreplied.

“I think someone wasmurdered in my room,”Bobbisaid,glancingacrossthetable at her sister. Bobbiwasthe one with the wildimagination.“Someonekeepswhispering to me late atnight, whispering andcrying.”

“Probablythewind,”theirfather said, straightening histiewithonehand and taking

asipfromhiscoffeecupwiththeother.

“Yeah, sure. The wind,”Bobbisaidsarcastically.

Sitting across from eachother, Corky and Bobbilooked like twins, eventhough Bobbi was a yearolder. Both had blond hair,very light, very fine, whichtheyworebrushed straight totheir shoulders or sometimesin ponytails or single braids.

Both had lively green eyes,creamy, pale skin, and highcheekboneslikemodels.

Bobbi was seventeen butnearlytwoinchesshorterthanher younger sister, whichannoyed her no end. Corky,on the other hand, wasenvious of her sister’s figure.Corky was tall but boyish.Sometimesshefeltgawkyandwishedshe’dhurryupandfillout.

“Well, your brother iscertainly not having anytrouble sleeping in thishouse,” Mrs. Corcoran said,heading toward the frontstairs. “Didn’t youwake himup?”

They heard a deafeningscream, a hideous scream ofterror fromupstairs.Seanhadobviouslydiscoveredtherat.

“I think he’s up,” Bobbisaiddryly.

Both girls collapsed inlaughter, loweringtheirheadstothetable.

“What did you two do?”Mrs. Corcoran demanded.Shehurriedtotherescue.

“We didn’t do it! Theghost did it!” Bobbi calledafterher.

Mr. Corcoran simplyshook his head.Hewas usedto having his daughters playtricksonSean.Theylovedto

take advantage of theirbrother’strustingpersonality.

Taking another sip ofcoffee, Mr. Corcoran sighed,wondering what hideousthing they had just done tomake poor Sean scream likethat.

The girls were stillsnickeringwhenSeanenteredthe kitchen, fully dressed infaded jeansandaredGapT-shirt, swinging the rat by the

tail.“Itdidn’tfoolmeatall,”hetoldhissisters.

“You always scream likethatwhenyougetup,right?”Bobbiteased.

“I just did that so youwouldn’t be disappointed,”Seansaid,avoidingtheireyes.

Mrs. Corcoran followedhim into the kitchen andrested her hands on hisslendershoulders.“Thishouseis creepy enough,” she

scolded the girls. “Do wereallyneedrats?”

Sean set the rat down onthe breakfast table. Mrs.Corcoran quickly grabbed itaway. “Not on the table.Please!”

“It’s not as disgusting astheseeggs,”Bobbigriped.

Sean glanced from oneplate to another. “Looks likeratpuke.”

“Sean—please!”hismotherexclaimed.

“Another delightfulCorcoran family breakfast,”their father said, pullinghimself up and scraping hischair noisily back along thefaded,oldlinoleum.

“Have your breakfast,”Mrs. Corcoran told the girls,glancing at the clock. “Don’tyou have cheerleader tryoutsthisafternoon?”

“If they’ll let us try out,”Corky said glumly.The lightin her emerald eyes faded.“The squad is already full.They say they pickedeveryone last spring. Beforewemovedhere.”

“But you girls are thebest!” their mother declared,plopping two eggs onto aplate for Sean. “You wereboth all-state back home inMissouri.Youpracticallytook

your squad to the nationalchampionships.”

“You both stink,” Seansaidflatly.

“No one asked youropinion,” Mr. Corcoran toldSean.“Hey—I’mouttahere.”Hegavehiswifeaquickkissonthecheekanddisappearedout thekitchen door. “Goodluck this afternoon, girls!”they heard him call fromoutside.

“We’ll need it,” Corkymuttered.

“When you jump up,everyone can see yourunderpants,”Seansaidnastily.

“Sean—eat your eggs,”Mrs. Corcoran repliedsharply. She pushed the platecloser to him, then glanceddown at the girls, concernwrinkling her pale face.“They should let you try out

at least. When they see howgoodyouare—”

“MissGreensaiditwasupto the girls on the squad,”Corkysaid.

“Who’s Miss Green? Theadvisor?” their mother asked,pouring herself a cup ofcoffee.

“Yeah. We met her andwe met the squad captain—Jennifer something-or-other,”

Bobbi said. “She seemedreallynice.”

“So they’ll let you tryout?” Mrs. Corcoran asked,motioning for Sean to eatfaster.

“Maybe,” Corky saiddoubtfully.

“We’ll see after school,”Bobbi said. She took a finalbiteoftoast,pushedherchairback, and hurried upstairs togetdressed.

“You two could putShadysideHighonthemap,”Mrs. Corcoran yelled afterher.

Corky laughed. “Mom, ifitwereuptoyou,we’dhaveitmade.”

“Butyoustink,”Seansaidquietly. Then he opened hismouth wide so Corky couldseetheyellowegginside.

“You’re gross,” Corkysaid,frowning.

“Youstink,”hereplied. Itseemed to be the refrain ofthemorning.

“Knock it off,” theirmother scolded, rolling hereyes. “Hurry. Get dressed.You’reallgoingtobelate.”

Corky took a last sip oforange juice, then headedupstairs,tryingtodecidewhatto wear. The kids atShadyside were a lot moreinto clothes than her friends

backinMissouri.Shehadthefeeling that she’d need somenewthings, someshort skirts,sometights,someleggings.

“Oh!”Shestoppedonthelanding

and stared up at the hallrailing.It tookherawhiletorealize that shewas staring athersister.

“Bobbi!”shecalled.Bobbi was dangling over

the wooden railing,

motionless, her arms hangingdown. Her eyes were wideopeninanunseeingstare,hermouthtwistedinawideOofhorror.

“Bobbi!” Corky repeated,calling in a shrill voice shedidn’trecognize.“Bobbi!”

Buthersisterdidn’tmove.Didn’tblink.

Didn’tbreathe.

Chapter2

NervousTime

“Bobbi!”Her heart in her throat,

Corky lurched up the finalstairstohersister.

Bobbi raised her head,blinked, andanamused smileformed on her face.“Gotcha,” she said softly.Pushing with both handsagainst the railing, she raisedherselftoastandingposition.

“Bobbi—you rat!” Corkycried,herheartstillthudding.

“You weren’t supposed tofind me,” Bobbi said, stillgrinning delightedly that herlittlejokehadworkedsowell.

“Seanwas supposed to comeupstairsfirst.”

“Don’t ever do thatagain!” Corky cried, givingher sister a playful but hardpunchontheshoulder.“Youknow I’m nervous about thishouse and trying out forcheerleadingandeverything.”

“Nervous?” said Bobbi,following her sister into theroomtheyshared.“Comeon,Cork—lighten up. I mean,

what’s there to be nervousabout?”

♦♦♦HerfriendsatShadysideHighwere always telling JenniferDaly that she looked like themovie star Julia Roberts. Infact, Jennifer did have theactress’s large, dark eyes andsensual full lips. Shewas alsotall and slender and movedwithaneasygrace.

A friendly girl with a softvoice and high, tinklinglaugh, Jennifer had been thepopular choice for captain ofthe Shadyside High Tigerscheerleading squad. She andKimmy Bass, the squad’senergeticassistantcaptain,hadbeen good friends sinceelementary school. ButJennifer also got along wellwith the other cheerleaders.Shewas soeasy toknowand

to like, andasKimmyput it,“She isn’t stuck up aboutanything.”

Kimmy buzzed aroundJennifer like a freneticbumblebee. With her roundface topped by a mop ofcrimped black hair, her fullcheeks that always seemed tobe pink, and her slightlychunky shape, she proved astrikingcontrasttoherfriend.

Their personalities werequite different too. WhileJennifer was soft-spoken,serene, and graceful, Kimmywas loud,enthusiastic, and sofullofenergythatsheseemedunabletostandstill.

Standing under thebasketball backboard, Jenniferstraightened her T-shirt overher gray sweatpants andwaitedfortheothermembersofthesquadtoenterthegym.

She glanced up at the bigclock next to the scoreboard.Three-twenty. School hadjust let out. Time forcheerleading practice tobegin.

Kimmy was the next toarrive, the swinging doubledoors banging behind her asshe hurried across the gymfloor,wavingtoJennifer.Thebright overhead lights gaveKimmy’s face a greenish

tinge,Jennifernoticed.AndasKimmy drew closer, Jennifersawthatshehadtinybeadsofperspiration above her upperlip, a sure sign that Kimmywas worked up aboutsomething.

Jennifer didn’t have toguesswhatKimmywasupsetabout. It had to be the twoCorcoran sisters, who,Jennifer noticed, had slippedinto the gym and were

huddled together on the farsideofthefloornearasectionofwoodenbleachers thathadbeen lowered during the lastgymclass.

“I just don’t think it’sright!” Kimmy exclaimed,tossing her backpack to thefloor, her round cheeks pinkwithexcitement.“Wealreadyhave our squad, Jennifer.We’ve practiced all summer.

They can’t just barge in. Idon’tcarewhotheyare!”

Jennifer closed her eyesbriefly. Evidently Kimmydidn’t realize how far hervoice could travel in the big,empty gym. Or perhaps shedidn’t care. But she wastalking loudlyenough for theCorcoran sisters to overheareveryword.

“Sshh,” Jenniferwhispered,gesturingwithher

eyestothebleachers.Kimmy turned quickly,

following Jennifer’s gaze. “Idon’t care,” she repeated justasloudlyasbefore.Sheshookhermopofhair,as if shakingawayJennifer’swarning.“Wecan’t let them try out, Jen.Wecan’t.Itjustisn’tfair.”

The other cheerleaderswerefilingintothegymnow,dropping their books andbackpacks beside the wall,

greeting one another in lowtones, leaning against the tilewall to stretch out. Kimmy’sfriend Debra Kern enteredand gave Kimmy a quickwave. She was followed byHeather Diehl and MeganCarman, who were bestfriends and always together.Entering last was Veronica(Ronnie) Mitchell, the onlyfreshmantomakethesquad.

“Kimmy—they can hearyou!” Jennifer repeated,embarrassed. She turned tothe bleachers, where theCorcorans were now sittingside by side on the bottombench, their hands claspedtensely in their laps. “Youknow,they’resupposedtobeterrificcheerleaders.”

“Says who?” Kimmysnapped, crossing her arms infrontofherchest.

“They were all-state backin their old hometown,”Jennifer told her. “And youknow that cheerleadingcompetition that’s on ESPNeveryyear?”

“Yeah. We watched ittogether,remember?”Kimmysaidalmostgrudgingly.

“Well, their cheerleadingteam won it last year. That’show good the Corcoransare.”

“But who cares, Jen?”Kimmy cried emotionally,uncrossing her arms andgesturing with her hands.“Wehave a great team,don’twe? We work together sowell. We’ve practicedtogetherforsolongand—”

“Butmaybetheycanmakeour team even better,”Jennifer said, refusing to raisehervoice.“Afterall,wewanttheverybestgirlswecanget,

don’twe? Imean,maybewecouldbeall-statethisyear.OrbeonESPNorsomething.”

“I agree with Kimmy,”Debra broke in, stepping upbeside her friend. She wasbeautiful but cold looking,with straight blond hair cutvery short and icy blue eyes.Debra was an unlikelycheerleader. Short and thin,almost too thin, she seldomsmiled. The only time she

ever really seemed to comealive was when she wasperforming a cheer or aroutine.

“Look at them,” Jennifersaidsoftly,turninghereyestoCorky and Bobbi. “They’rehere.Wecanatleastletthemdo their stuff, don’t youthink?Itwon’thurttowatchthem.”

“But we had tryouts lastspring,”Kimmyinsisted.

“Yeah,”Debra chimed in.“Wecan’t hold tryouts everyweek, you know.” She fixedJenniferwithanicystare.

“Is this a cheerleadingsquad or a debating team?” aharshvoicerangoutloudly.

All of the cheerleadersturned to see Miss Green,their advisor, step quicklyfrom her small office in thecorner and move towardthemwithlong,quickstrides.

Dressed in tight white tennisshorts,agrayshort-sleevedT-shirt, and black high-tops,Miss Green was a compactwoman with frizzy brownhair,aplainfacethatnaturallyseemed to fall into an angryexpression,andahuskyvoicethat always sounded as if shehadabadcaseoflaryngitis.

She taught health andphys. ed., and had a

reputationforbeingtough—awell-deservedreputation.

“We have three newroutines to learn by Fridaynight,” she called out loudly,hervoice echoingoff the tilewalls of the vast gym. “Sowhat’s holding things up?Orhave you learned the newroutinesalready?”

“We’re trying to decideabout them,” Kimmy said,glancing firstat Jennifer, then

pointing to the Corcoransisters, who had climbed totheirfeet.

“It’s up to Jennifer,”MissGreensaid,staringatJennifer.“Thecaptaindecides.”

Kimmy, obviously miffed,madeaface.

“I’d like to see what theycando,” Jennifer said, staringdefiantly at Kimmy. “I reallythinkwe should give them achance.”

“Okay. End of debate,”Miss Green said brusquely.She waved to Corky andBobbi.“Okay,youtwo!”sheshouted.“You’reon!”

“I don’t believe this,”Kimmy muttered darkly toDebra as they went to jointheothergirlsagainstthewall.They stood beside Ronnie,and the three girls whisperedamong themselves, theirexpressions unhappy, as

Corky andBobbimade theirwayacrossthegym.

“Areyounervous?”Corkywhispered toBobbi, her eyeson the cheerleaders huddledagainstthewall.

“Who?Me?”Bobbirepliedwith a peal of nervouslaughter. “Hey, come on.Why should we be nervous,Cork? We know we’regood!”

“Tell that to my shakingknees!”Corkyexclaimed.

Their sneakers squeakedasthey hurried across thegleaming wood floor. Thegym suddenly grew silent.Theairfeltheavyandhot.

“Show us whatever youlike,” Jennifer told them,flashing them an encouragingsmile.

Corky and Bobbi eachtookadeepbreath,glancedat

each other for luck, steppedtothecenterofthefloor,andhuddledtogether.

“Whatshouldwedofirst?”Corkyaskedheroldersister.

“Let’s start with somesynchronized walkovers,”Bobbi suggested. “Then let’sshow them our doublecartwheel.”

“Whyaretheystaringatuslike that?” Corky asked,glancing over Bobbi’s

shoulder at the silentcheerleaders. “Like they hateusorsomething.”

“Let’s give themsomething to stare at,”Bobbireplied,grinning.

“Breakaleg,”Corkysaid.

Chapter3

FirstScream

“Ohh!”The cry from one of the

cheerleaders told Bobbi thather spread eagle was as

spectacular as she hadplanned.

Up,up,she leaptuntil shefeltasifshecouldtakeoffandfly. And then she shot outboth legs, raising them upuntil they were perfectlystraight.Andtheninhermoststartling move, Bobbi kepther legs outstretched as shegracefullyfloateddown,handshigh above her head like a

diving bird, into a perfectsplit.

Then, before her stunnedaudience had recovered, sheand Corky were into apowerhousechant:

“Firstandten,Doitagain!Firstandten,Doitagain!GoTigers!”

It’s going okay, Bobbithought. At least they’re notglaringatusanymore.

She glanced at her sister,gave her a quick nod, theirsignal for theirbig finish,andjumped.

Onto Corky’s back. Aperfectponymount.

Thenoneswiftmove.Up.Armsup.Andup again. Intothe shoulder stand they hadpracticed day after day until

their shoulders and backswereredandsore.

Good, Bobbi thought,standing straight and tall onCorky’s shoulders, feelingCorky’s hot hands lock ontothe back of her legs. Shesmiled confidently, hands onhips. Then, without losingher smile, she suddenlydivedoffCorky’sshoulders.

Thecheerleadersgaspedasshe plummeted straight out.

She completed a perfect flipand landed, standing on bothfeet. And then the sistersmoved into a repeat of theirdouble cartwheel. Corkygrasped Bobbi’s ankles asBobbigraspedCorky’sankles,andthetwogirlsrolledacrossthefloor.Theystoodupwithafinalshout:“GoTigers!”

The two sisters ran offclapping. Bobbi smiled atCorky as they leaned against

the wall, catching theirbreath.

“Wow! They’reincredible!” she heard one ofthecheerleadersexclaim.

“How’dtheydothat?”sheheard another ask in a loudwhisper.

“You’re putting onweight,” Corky grumbled,rubbinghershoulders.

♦♦♦

“Wow, that was great!”Jennifer said, smilingwarmly,herdarkeyeslightingupwithgenuineexcitement.

“Thanks,” Corky andBobbi said in unison, smilingbackather.

They were standingawkwardly in Miss Green’soffice, a small glassed-inenclosureinthecornerofthegym. Seated at the woodendesk, Miss Green was

searching the top drawer forsomeforms.

The routinehadbeenoneof their best ever, Bobbithought. Sometimes she andCorky just clicked, and thatday had been one of thosedays.

Allofthecheerleadershadbeen really excited andimpressed.ExceptfortheonenamedKimmyandher short,blond friend. They had

remained stone-faced, evenwhen all the other girls hadburst into appreciativeapplause.

“Thatwas fabulous!”MissGreen had called out in herhuskyvoice.“Ofcourseyourshoulder dive is impressive,butIalsolikedtheheightyougot on those spread eagles.”She turned to the squadmembers along thewall. “I’dlike to seeeveryoneworkon

the new routines, now. Ihope Bobbi and Corky haveinspired you to keep yourenergyup.Up!”

“Let’s go!” Kimmy hadyelled, clapping and runningpast Corky and Bobbi,avoiding their eyes as she ledthesquadtothecenterofthefloor.

Asthegirlsstartedtochantone of their new cheers, thetwo sisters had followed

Jennifer andMiss Green intothecorneroffice.

Jennifer motioned for thesisters to sit down on thefoldingchairsagainstthewall.Corky glanced quickly atBobbi as they sat, aquestioningglance.

“Do you mean we madethe squad?” Bobbi askedJennifer.

“Ah, here they are,”MissGreen interrupted before

Jennifer could reply. “You’llneed to fill out these forms.Thisone’sahealthform,”shesaid,pullingoutagreensheetofpaper.“Andthisoneistherelease form. Your parentshavetosignthatone.”

“We made the squad?”Bobbirepeated,toJennifer.

“Yeah. You wereamazing!” Jennifer gushed.Thensheadded:“Iusedtobethe star around here. But no

one’sgoingtonoticemewithyoutwoaround.”

Bobbi couldn’t decide ifshe was kidding or not. Thegirls reactedwithembarrassedlaughter. “We’ll show youhow to do the shoulderdismount,”Bobbioffered.

“I think we can all learnsomething from you two,”Miss Green added, shufflingthroughthesheafofforms.

Jennifer’s eyes flared justthen,andBobbi suddenly feltuncomfortable. Jennifer wasmaking it clear that she wasjealousoftheCorcorans.

“Where did you get thatdouble cartwheel thing afterthe dive?” Jennifer asked,leaning back against theyellow-tiledwall.

“We sort of made it up,”Corkytoldher.

“Some other girls weredoingsomethinglikeitatthestate finals back in Missourilastyear,”Bobbi added,“andwekindofadaptedit.”

“Ihopewe can get to thestate finals,” Jennifer saidwistfully.

“With these two on thesquad,it’salock,”MissGreensaid, smiling one of her raresmilesasshehandedtheformsto Corky and Bobbi. As she

stared at the girls, herexpression changed tooneofconcern. “Uniforms.Uniforms,” she muttered.“This might be a problem.Quick.” She pulled a pad ofpaper from her top drawer.“Writedownyoursizes.Thiswillhavetobearushorder.”

A short while later Bobbiand Corky were thankingJenniferandMissGreen;withthe chants of their fellow

cheerleaders ringing throughthe gym, they hurried out ofthe building, eager tocongratulateeachother.

Jennifer and Miss Greencontinued to confer over thelow wooden desk, theirexpressions serious,concerned.MissGreen spokeheatedly, her eyes turningoccasionally to watch thepractice on the other side oftheglasspartition.

“The squad is supposed tobe six,” she told Jennifer. “Isuppose we can squeeze onemore girl on. But not two.We don’t have the funds foreightcheer-leaders.”

Lowering their voices,Jennifer and Miss Greencontinued to discuss theproblem.

“Hey—what’sgoingon?”Startled by the intrusion,

both the captain and the

advisorwhirledaroundtoseeKimmy standing in thedoorway, hands on hips, hercheeks pink, breathingheavily.

“Can you ask Ronnie tocome in?” Jennifer askedKimmy. “We can onlymakeroom for one more girl, soRonniewillhaveto—”

“Huh? You’re puttingthose sisters on the squad?”

Kimmy demanded, her voicerisingseveraloctaves.

“Of course,” Jenniferreplied. “You sawhowgoodthey were. They’reawesome!”

“ButIthought—”Kimmystopped,lettingthenewssinkin.

“We’re very lucky theymoved to Shadyside,” MissGreen added with unusualenthusiasm.

“And that means—Ronnie’sout?”Kimmyasked,her voice revealing heroutrage.“She’soffthesquad?Justlikethat?”

“Kimmy—” Jenniferstarted.

ButMissGreentookover,climbing to her feet as ifprepared to fight. “Ronnie isonly a freshman,” she saidfirmly.“She’llbeanalternate.She’llpracticewiththesquad.

Andshe’llgoonifoneofyougetssickorsomething.”

“Oh, she’ll love that,”Kimmy saidbitterly. “I reallydon’t think it’s fair. I mean—”

“Kimmy—you saw howgood Bobbi andCorky are!”Jennifer cried. “We needthem.Wereallydo.”

Kimmy started to reply,thought better of it, andutteredasighofexasperation.

GlaringatJennifer,sheturnedaway from the office andcalledtoRonnie.

“Youwanted to seeme?”Ronnie hesitated in thedoorway, nervously pushingback her curly red hair withboth hands. She had smallbrowneyes,atinyroundstubof a nose, and a face full offreckles.

ShealmostcollapsedwhenMiss Green told her of her

demotion.Angrytearsformedin the corners of her eyes,which she quickly wipedaway with the backs of herhands.

“We really don’t have achoice,”Jennifersaidsoftly.

“Yes, you do,” Ronniesnapped back, her dark eyesflashing.

“We have to think ofwhat’s best for the squad,”Miss Green said, twirling a

pen nervously between herfingers.“You’llhaveplentyofopportunity—”

“Yeah. Sure,” Ronnieinterrupted, and fled towardthelockerroom.

“She feels bad,” Jennifersaid, staring through the glassastheothergirlsstoppedtheirpracticetowatchRonnierunoff.

“She’ll get over it,” MissGreensaidflatly.

♦♦♦“I’ll never forgive them!”Ronniecried.“Never!”

KimmyandDebrahuddledaround the freshman, tryingto ignore the steamy,junglelike air of the lockerroom. The other girls hadshowered and left. Thesethree remained, talking,commiserating with oneanother, trying to decide

what, if anything, they coulddo.

“Thosesistershadnorightto try out,” Kimmy agreedheatedly,puttingacomfortinghandonRonnie’sshoulder.

“Not them,” Ronnieinsisted angrily. “Jennifer andMiss Green. It was their ideatokickmeoff.”

“We should all gettogether,” Debra saidheatedly. “Youknow.Sign a

petition or something. I’msure Megan and Heatherwould sign it too.” She satdownonthebenchandbegantopulloffhersneakers.

Kimmy removed a whitetowel from her locker andmoppedher foreheadwith it.“Wow, do I need a shower!Yeah, maybe you’re right,Deb. If the whole squadprotests, if we all stand

together,I’llbetwecouldgetthemtochangetheirminds.”

Ronniegroanedandrolledhereyes.“Whatdreamworlddoyoulivein?”shemuttered.“The Corcoran sisters wereall-state, remember? Did yousee the lookonMissGreen’sface when they did thatshoulder stand and all thosedoublecartwheels?”

“She was practicallydrooling,”Debrasaid,shaking

her head. “She couldprobably see thechampionship trophy on hershelf.”

“But what’s Jennifer’sproblem?”Kimmydemanded,pulling her heavy sweateroverherhead.

“She’s your friend,”Ronniesaidbitterly.

“Ican’tbelieveher,”Debraadded. “Maybe being captainhas gone to her head or

something. She thinks she’ssuchabigdeal.”

“My parents are going tobe very upset,” Ronnie saidwith renewed sadness. “Theyweremore excited aboutmymaking the squad than Iwas.Andnow—”

Kimmy and Debracontinued trying to comfortRonnie as they undressed,tossing their clothes onto thebenches. They carried their

towelsovertheconcretefloortotheshowerroom.

“I don’t want to be analternate,” Ronniecomplained, her voicebreaking with emotion.“That’s just stupid. I’d rather—”

“If only the Corcoranswould just go back wheretheycamefrom,”Debra said.“With their long blond hairand theirbig eyes andphony

smiles.” She put a fingerdown her throat andpretendedtopuke.“Yuck.”

“They’re not that bad,”Ronnie muttered. “It’sJennifer.Shehadnoright—”

Kimmy stepped under thechrome shower head. Sheturned theknobson thewallwithbothhands.

The water burst out in aloudrush.

Kimmy frozeopenmouthed for a briefsecond.

Thenshestartedtoscream.

Chapter4

ATragicAccident

Kimmy staggered backuntilshehitthetilewall.

Pantingloudly,shepointedto the water rushing in a

broadstreamfromtheshowerhead.

“Kimmy—are you okay?”Debra cried in alarm. “Whatisit?”

“The water—it’s scaldinghot!”Kimmytoldher.

The three girls turned offthe taps and hurried out,clutchingtheirtowels.

“Ow,thatburned!”Kimmydeclared, starting to breathenormally.

“Shouldweget thenurse?Are you all right?” Debraasked, staring at Kimmy’schest and neck, which werescarlet.

“I think I’ll be okay,”Kimmy said, relieved,covering herself with thetowel. “It was just such ashock.”

“We’ll have to rememberto tellSimmons,”Debra said.And then she added

sarcastically, “Maybehe’ll getaroundtofixingitinayearortwo.”

Simmons was one of theShadyside High custodians.Healsodroveaschoolbus.Alaid-back young man with ablond ponytail andWalkmanheadphonesthatseemedtobepermanentlygluedtohisears,he wasn’t terribly reliable ineitherjob.

“Hey—didyoudropthis?”Ronnieasked.Shebentdownand picked something shinyoffthefloor.

“Oh. Thanks.” Kimmyreachedout for it. Itwashersilver megaphone pendant.Her parents had given it toherforhersixteenthbirthday.She struggled to put it backaround her neck, which wasstill red from the scaldingshower. “The clasp is loose,”

she said, frowning. “I reallyhave to get it fixed. Don’twanttoloseit.”

Thethreefriendshurriedlygotdressedinsilence.

Hoisting her backpackonto her shoulder, Ronniesighed and headed for thedoor, her sneakers thuddingheavilyontheconcrete.

“You feeling any better?”Kimmycalledafterher.

“No”wasthesullenreply.

♦♦♦“This is so exciting!” Bobbideclared.

It was a Friday evening,two weeks later, and thecheerleaders were boardingthe small yellow and blackschool bus that would takethemtotheTigers’firstawaygame.

Corky followed her sisteronto the bus. She said hi to

Simmons, who was slouchedin the driver’s seat, fiddlingwithhisponytail.Hegruntedinreply.

Raindrops dotted thewindshield. A light rain hadstarted to fall. The skywas agloomy charcoal color, butnotgloomyenoughtodarkenthesisters’moods.

They had been workinghard for thatnight,practicingthe new routines after school

and at home, learning thecheers,workingupafewnewwrinklesoftheirown.

“Go, Tigers!” Bobbiyelled, tumbling into a seatneartheback.

“Gowho??”Meganyelled.Thebusquicklyfilledwith

loud, excited voices, happylaughter. Simmons leanedforwardandpulledthehandletoclosethedoor.

“Hey—where’s MissGreen?”Debracalled.

Jennifer turned around inthe front seat. “She’s drivingin her own car tonight. Shehadtotakesomefriends.”

Kimmy sat in thewindowseat next to Debra. Sherubbed her hand over theglass, trying to clear the thinfilm of steam away so shecouldseeout.

“Hey, Simmons—howabout some air-conditioning?” one of thegirls yelled. “We’re meltingbackhere!”

Simmons,obviouslylostinhisownthoughts,ignoredtherequest, as usual. He startedthebusupandclickedontheheadlights.

Corky, seated in the aislebeside her sister, turned tostareout theirwindowas the

bus backedout of its parkingspace and headed out of thestudent parking lot. Rivuletsof rainwater ran down theglass,distortingherview.

The rain picked up,drummingnoisilyontheroofof the bus. A gust of windblew water through thewindow,whichwas open aninchortwoatthetop.Bobbiraised herself up and, with

great effort, pushed thewindowshut.

“Now we’ll suffocate,”Corkycomplained.

“Take your pick—suffocate or drown,” Bobbitoldher.

“Tough choice,” Corkyreplied.

“Go, Tigers!” someoneyelled.

Someone started a cheer,andeveryonejoinedin.

“Tigersareyellow,Tigersareblack.Push‘embachpush‘em

back,Push‘emwaaaaayback!”

Bobbi smiled at her sister.She settled back in her seat,happyandexcited.

The past two weeks hadbeendifficult.Theothergirlswere aloof at first, evenresentful. But Bobbi was

confident that she andCorkyhadwonmost of them over.Kimmy and Debra were stillcold to them, still acted as ifthey were unwantedintruders. But she felt surethat she and Corky wouldeventuallywinthosetwoovertoo.

As the bus rattled downPark Drive away from theschool, the rain poundedharder. The trees and shrubs

exploded in a white flash oflightning. The thunderseemed to crack right abovethem.

Heather andMeganbeganchanting, “Rain, rain, goaway.”

Jennifer turned in her seatto face the rest of thecheerleaders. “It’s not goingto last,” she announced. “It’sjust a flash storm. They said

ontheradioit’sgoingtopassquickly.”

Another loud thunderclapmadetwogirlsscream.

Everyoneelselaughed.The big wipers scraped

noisily, rhythmically, acrossthe windshield, which wascovered with a curtain ofwhite steam. Simmons didn’tseem to mind—or notice—thepoorvisibility.

Holding on to the seat-back, Jennifer stood up. “Ihaveafewannouncementstomake,” she called out,shoutingtobeheardoverthedrivingrain.

Kimmy and Debra weregiggling loudly aboutsomething.Jenniferwaitedforthem to get quiet. “First ofall, unless it’s still drizzling,we’lldothefirebatonroutineat halftime as planned,”

Jennifer said, cupping herhandslikeamegaphone.

Simmons made a sharpturn onto Canyon Road,causing Jennifer to topplebackintoherseat.Shepushedherself back up, flashing thedriver an annoyed look,which, of course, he didn’tsee.

“Ifthestormdoesn’tblowover—”Jennifercontinued.

“Oh no!” Corky cried.“Thefirebatons!”

Alleyesturnedtothebackofthebus.

Aflashoflightningseemedto outline Corky and hersister.

“Wehavetoturnaround!”Corkydeclared,shoutingovertheclapofthunder.

“What?” Jennifer called,herfacefilledwithconfusion.

“We have to stop at myhouse,” Corky explained.“Thefirebatons.BobbiandIbrought them home topractice. We forgot them.Canweturnaround?”

Several girls groaned,Kimmytheloudestofall.

“It’s only a small detour,”Bobbi said, coming to hersister’sdefense.

“No problem,” Jennifersaid, her expression troubled.

Standing in the aisle besideSimmons, she tapped himhardontheshoulder.

Noreaction.Soshetuggedhisponytail.

“Wehave tomake a stoponFear Street,” Jennifer toldhim.

“Huh?”“Fear Street,” Jennifer

repeated impatiently. “Justturnhere.”

Simmons turned thewheel, and the bus skiddedinto a turn over the wetpavement.Holdingon to theseat-back, Jennifer turnedback to Corky and Bobbi.“Direct us when we get toFearStreet,okay?”

The two sisters agreed,apologizing again for thedetour.

“Oooh, Fear Street,”someone said, uttering a

spooky howl. Some othergirlslaughed.

Kimmymadesomekindofwisecrack to Debra, and thetwogirlsgiggledtogether.

The rain fell in heavysheets, driven byunpredictable, powerfulwindgusts. For some reasonSimmonsspedup.Infrontofhim the big wipers swammechanically across thesteamywindshield.

Jennifer resumed herposition in the aisle besidehim.“Ihave just a fewmoreannouncementstomake,”sheshouted.

Staringout thewindowatthe storm, Bobbi saw thepassinghousesandtreesgrowdarker, as if a heavy shadowhad lowered itselfover them,over the whole world. Treesbent in the strongwind.Therainsuddenlyshiftedandblew

against the window, startlingBobbiandblockingherview.

Up at the front, Jennifercontinued with herannouncements. Bobbicouldn’t hear her over thepounding rain, the thunder,theangryrushofwind.

Suddenly Simmonsreached out and pulled thelever to open the door. Thesoundoftheraingrewlouder.

Cold,wetaircutthroughthebus.

“Why did he open thedoor?”Corkyaskedhersister.

“I guess to see better,”Bobbi replied thoughtfully.“The windshield is totallysteamed.”

“Arewenearhome?”Thebusspedup.Simmons

had his head turned to theopen door, his eyes on the

cross street, which passed byinagrayblur.

Bobbi stared hard out therain-blotted window, tryingtoreadastreetsign.

Suddenly she realized thatsomethingwaswrong.

Thebus—itbegantoskid.There was no time to

screamorcryoutawarning.One second they were

moving along through therain. The next second they

were sliding, sliding out ofcontroltowardthecurb.

“Whoa!” Simmonsshrieked over the squeal oftires.“Thebrakes—!”

The tire squeals grew to aroar in Bobbi’s ears. Shecovered them with bothhands. She tried to scream,but the sound caught in herthroat.

The impact was fast andhard.

Whathadtheyhit?Atree?Arock?Thecurb?

The bus seemed tobounce,toflyupofftheroad,tobounceagain.

Staring in horror andsurprise at the front, BobbisawJennifer’seyesopenwide.Andthenasthebusjoltedandspun, shewatched as Jenniferflewouttheopendoor.

Jennifer’s startled screamwas drowned out by the

squealoftheskiddingtires.Bythecrunchofmetal.Bytheshatterofglass.

Chapter5

DeathofaCheerleader

Italltookasecond.Maybeless.

Bobbiblinked—anditwasover.

The screams swirledaroundher,surroundingher.

She wasn’t sure whethershewashearing the squealofthe tires or the cries of thecheerleaders.

And then the world tiltedonitsside.

Withasilent,chokedgasp,Bobbi toppled onto Corky.And the two of them, arms

flailinghelplessly,fellsidewaystowardthefarwindow.

Whichwasnowthefloor.Notimetoscream.It took only a

microsecond.Orsoitseemed.Thewindowglassbeneath

them cracked all the waydown the pane like a jaggedboltoflightning.

And still the bus bumpedand slid,metalgratingagainstpavement,invadingtheirears.

Bobbi felt another hardbump. A stab of pain joltedher entire body, made hershakeandbounce.

And then all movementstopped.Suchanabruptstop.Suchashatteringstop.

I’m okay, Bobbi realized.Herfirstclearthought.

She was on top of hersister, their arms and legstangled.

Corkyisokaytoo.

Corky stared up at heropenmouthed,hergreeneyeswidewithfear.

Allsideways.She heard muffled cries.

Whimpers, like frightenedpuppies.

“Oh,man.”A loud groanfrom the front of the bus.FromSimmons.

Bobbi pulled herself up.Simmonswas trying to stand.

But everything was tilted.Everythingwaswrong.

“Are you okay?” Corkyaskedinatinyvoice.

“Yeah. I think so,”Bobbireplieduncertainly.

“Thenget offme!”Corkycried.

She sounded so angry, itmadeBobbilaugh.

Hysterical laughter, sherealized, and forcedherself tostop.

Got to keep control.Control.Control.

Bobbi lookedup to find arow of windows above herhead.

“Oh,” she said out loud.She finally realized what hadhappened.Thebuswasonitsside.

It had rammed into a treeor something, bounced offandtoppledontoitsside,thenskiddedtoastop.

“How do we get out?”She heard Kimmy call eventhoughshecouldn’tseeher.

In the darkness she saw atangleofarmsandlegs.

Sheheardagirlcrying.Sheheardgroansandwhispers.

“The emergency door. Inback!”someoneshouted.

Bobbi reached for theemergency door, and triedpushingitopen.Itwasstuck.

“Thewindows are faster!”someoneelsecried.

Kimmy stood up, raisedboth arms high, struggled toslide one of the windowsopen. Bobbi, balancinguneasily,triedtodothesame.

“Can’t you get off me?”Corkyaskedimpatiently.

“I’m trying, okay?” Bobbireplied, not recognizing herowntight,shrillvoice.

Thewindowslidopen.

Raindrops hit Bobbi’supturnedface.Cold.Fresh.

Soclean.“Is anyone hurt?”

Simmons was calling, a tallshadow in the front. 44Isanyonehurt?Who’scrying?”

Bobbi raised herself up,grabbed hold of the windowframe.

“Isanyonehurt?”The rainwas just adrizzle

now.The rumble of thunder

was low and far in thedistance.

Bobbi pulled herselfhalfwayoutofthebus.

The whole world wasshimmering, glistening, wet.Freshandclean.

The bus tires were stillspinning.

Where are we? Bobbiwondered. It all looked sofamiliar and unfamiliar at thesametime.

Another face appeared.Debra was emerging from awindow closer to the front.“Are you okay?” she called,squinting at Bobbi as if shewerefaraway.

“I think so,” Bobbireplied.“You?”

“Yeah.Mywrist—I thinkit’ssprained.That’sall.”

They pulled themselvesout, smiled at each other,buoyed by the fresh air, the

cool wetness, of being alive.Then standing on theoverturnedside thatwasnowthe roof, they leaned downinto the windows to helpothergirlsescape.

Timeseemedtostandstill.Corky joined her sister,

slid to the ground, stretchedand yawned as if emergingfromalongsleep.

Thebusheadlights,oneontopof theother, cut through

theair,castingtwinspotlightson the jagged tombstonespokingupthroughtallweeds.

Tombstones?Weeds?Bobbi lowered herself to

the ground, her sneakerssinking into the wet grass.Gripping Corky’s ice-coldhand,sheturnedbacktowardthestreet.

Behindthem,atiltedstreetsignread:FEARST.

“Oh.” She let go ofCorky’shand.“Look.”

The bus had careened offthe road and slid over thegrass of the Fear Streetcemetery. A thick yellowmist, catching the light fromthe headlights, lingeredbetween the old gravestones,which rose up like arms andlegs from the twisting,bendingweeds.

“We’re . . . in thecemetery,” Corky said, hervoice a whisper, herexpressionstunned.“How?”

“We’re only a block fromhome,”Bobbisaid.

“Is everybody out?”Simmons called. He cametoward them, taking longstrides,hisjeansstainedattheknees, a bandanna wrappedtightly around a bleeding cut

on his arm. “You okay?” heaskedthetwosisters.

“Yeah,”Bobbitoldhim.“Everyone got out,”

Simmonssaid.“Noone’shurttoobad.”

Then Bobbi and Corkycried out at the same time:“Jennifer!”

WherewasJennifer?In thehorrorof thecrash,

in the noise and tilting

darkness of it, they hadforgottenabouther.

Jennifer. Bobbi saw heragain.Sawherarmsjerkupasshe flew out the open busdoor—almost as if beingpulledout.

“Jennifer?” Corky begancalling, cupping her handsoverhermouth.“HasanyoneseenJennifer?”

“Jennifer.Jennifer.”

Thewordbuzzed throughthegroupofdazed,frightenedgirlsastheyhuddledtogether,squinting against the brightheadlights, trying to turnthings right side up in theirminds.

Trying to make sense ofeverything.

Trying to convincethemselves that they wereokay. That everything wasgoingtobefine.

“Jennifer.Jennifer.”AndthenCorkysawher.Frombehind.Saw her body sprawled

facedown,herheadrestingonthe earth in front of an oldtombstone,herarmsstretchedaboveherheadasifshewerehuggingthestone.

“Jennifer!”Bobbishouted.A sudden gust of wind

made Jennifer’s skirt ruffle.

But Jennifer didn’t look up,didn’traiseherhead.

Corky and Bobbi reachedher before the others. Bobbigrabbed her shoulders to rollherontoherback.

“Don’t move her!”someoneyelled.

“Don’t touch her! It isn’tsafe!”

Bobbi looked up to seeSimmons standingbesideher,staring down at Jennifer

sprawled so awkwardly acrosstheoldgravesite.

“Let’s carefully roll herover and get her face out ofthemud,”hesaidquietly.

Theytuggedhergentlybytheshoulders.

As they turned Jenniferover,thewordsetchedontheold grave marker came intoBobbi’s view: SARAHFEAR.Thedatesbeneaththename had been worn away

nearly beyond recognition:1875-1899.

They laid Jennifer gentlyontoherback.

“Call an ambulance!”Heather was screaming.“Somebody—callforhelp!”

Bobbi leaned overJennifer’s unmoving form.“It’s too late,” she said,chokingoutthewords.“She’sdead.”

Chapter6

“It’sYourFault!”

“No!”Corky’s anguished cry cut

through the air. She droppedto the wet ground beside

Jenniferandgrabbedherpale,limphand.

“No!”At firstBobbi thought the

low wail she was hearingcame from her sister. But asthe sound grew louder,cutting through the crackleand whisper of the windbending the ancient trees ofthe cemetery, Bobbi realizedit was the siren of anambulance.

Someone in one of thehouses across the street musthave seen the accident andcalledforhelp.

A few seconds later threeambulances and a policecruiser pulled onto the wetgrass, their flashing red lightswashing over everyone,making everything seem toobright, the colors all wrong,too frightening, too vivid tobereal.

The white coats of theparamedics, scramblingthrough the wet weeds,flashed red and gray, red andgray. The light caught theirhard expressions like those inartificial-light snapshots,freezing them in Bobbi’smind.Sheknew she’dalwaysrememberevery somber face,every flash of light, everysecond of this dark, wetnightmare.

Behind the tiltedtombstone, Ronnie stoodcrying, sobbing loudly, hermouth open wide, her eyesround. Kimmy and Debrahuddledaroundher,tryingtocomfort her, their facesdistortedbytheflickersofredlighttoo.

Therainhadstoppednow,leavingtheairheavyandcold.

On theground in frontofthe tombstone, several

paramedics worked overJennifer, speaking softlyamong themselves, softly buturgently.

GentlehandspulledBobbiand her sister back. Twoyoung police officers werequestioning Simmons, whowas shrugging and gesturingto the overturned bus. Heappeared very frightened andupset.

Radios crackled from theambulancesandthepolicecar.A paramedic leaning overJennifer spoke rapidly into acellular telephone. The windblew a shower of ice-coldrainwater down from thetrees. Bobbi took a reluctantstepcloser.

Was Jennifer alive? Weretheybringingheraround?Shehadtosee.

The white coats hadformed a protective circlearound Jennifer. Bobbi triedtomakesenseoutofthebuzzof low voices. Shemade herwaytojustoutsidethecircle,her sneakers sinking into softearth.

One of the paramedicsstoodup. In the blinkof redlight, Bobbi saw his eyesclose,his teethclench.“She’sgone,”hesaid.

Another white-coatedyoung man climbed to hisfeet,shakinghishead.

“Gone.”Radios crackled. Ronnie’s

sobscutthroughtheair.“No!”Bobbiscreamed.Without realizing it,

without even realizing shewas moving, Bobbi pushedpast the grim-facedparamedics. She knelt at

Jennifer’sside,stareddownatherpretty,expressionlessface.

And Jennifer opened hereyes.

“Hey!” Bobbi cried.“Whoa!”

Jennifer blinked. AndstaredupatBobbi.

“Hey—” Bobbi called.“Hey—”

Jenniferblinkedagain.Herlips trembled. Her dark eyesmovedfromsidetoside.

“Hey—she’s alive!” Bobbicalled.“Hey—”

Corky was holding on toBobbi’s shoulders, leaningover her, staring down atJennifer.

Jennifer smiledupat themboth.

“Hey—”Cheers and cries. Urgent

voices. The crackling of theradios. A low voice speakingrapidlyintoacellularphone.

Thesoundsweredrownedout by a rush of wind. Itstartedtorainagain.

Bobbistaredattheflashingcolors, the darting yellowcones of light from theflashlights, the pale whitebeams of headlights. Thelights allmelted intooneandgrew brighter and brighteruntil she had to close hereyes.

Jennifer was alive. Okay.Shewasgoingtobeokay.

Her eyes still shut tightly,Bobbisaidasilentprayer.

When she opened hereyes, Jennifer’s gurney wasbeing gently slid into anambulance. Twomore squadcars had pulled up. Severalofficers stood outlined inheadlights, inspecting theoverturned bus, shaking theirheads.

“Lucky no one waskilled.”

Thewordsfloatedthroughthe air and repeated inBobbi’smind.

The rain came downharder, swirled by the wind.The ambulance siren startedwithacough.Thentheshrillwailcorkscrewedthroughtherustling trees.The ambulanceroaredaway.

“Howwillwegethome?”Ronnie was asking, stillflankedbyKimmyandDebra.

“What about the game?”Heatherasked.

“We have to get home!”Ronnieinsisted.

“WillJenniferbeokay?”“Has anyone called our

parents?”“SomeoneshouldcallMiss

Green”

“She’s probably at thegame.”

“They won’t play in thisrain.”

Letitrain,Bobbithought,raising her face to it. Let therain wash everything away.Everything.

She turned, startled to seeKimmystandingbesideher,acold, grim expression on herface, her eyes locked onBobbi’s.

“Kimmy—?” Bobbistarted.

“This is all your fault,”Kimmy said, speakingthrough clenched teeth. Herhands were balled into tightfistsathersides.Therainhadmatted her black hair againstherforehead.

“Huh?”“All your fault,” Kimmy

repeated, continuing to glare

atBobbi.“Ifyouhadn’tmadeusturnontoFearStreet—”

“Now, wait a minute!”Bobbicried.“Thatisn’tfair!”

She realized the othercheerleaderswereallstaringather, their faces grim andunhappy, lit by the flashes ofredlight.

“Kimmy, that’s not fair,”Corky cried, rushing forwardtojoinhersister.

Kimmy walked quicklybacktoRonnieandDebra.

“That’s not fair!” Corkyrepeated.

The rain fell harder,makingitdifficulttosee.Theambulance carrying Jenniferwas far in the distance now,its siren a lingering cry thatrefusedtofadeaway.

PARTTWO

TheFall

Chapter7

TheNewCaptain

The cheers thundereddown from the bleachers asthe cheerleaders ranoutontothe floor. As the seven girls

bounded across the gym, thenoiseroseandechoeduntilitfelt as if the roof might beblownoff.

Kimmy led the girls ontothe floor, and theyimmediately went into whatthey called their clap-claproutine.Thegirlsclappedouta rhythm—and everyone inthe bleachers repeated it asloudlyaspossible.

As she clapped, Kimmystared up at the colorful blurof kids filling the bleachers,spilling out onto the gymfloor,standingalongthewalls.The entire school was at thepeprally.

The hand clapping gaveway to foot stomping. Thebleachers quaked andtrembled.Therhythmpickedup.Faster.Louder.

What a thrill! Kimmythought, an excited grinspreadacrossherface.Whatathrilltoperformfortheentireschool!Whatasound!Likeanearthquakeorthestampedeofathousandelephants!

Sheknewshelookedgreatinhernewuniform.Theyalldid. The maroon and whitewassosharp,theskirtsocrisp,and the sweater so bright.

Their old uniforms had beenruinedthatnightintherain.

Buthereitwas,twoweekslater,andeverythingwasfreshandnewagain.Andeveryonewas cheering. Cheering theirlungsout.

Well...almosteveryone.“GivemeaT!”“T!”“GivemeanI!”“I!”“GivemeaG!”

“G!”What a sound! Kimmy

thought, her grin growingevenwiderashershinyblackhairbouncedaroundher faceeverytimeshejumped.

They finishedthecheer ina wavelike ripple, the girlsgoingdowninsplitsoneafterthe other. Kimmy glanceddowntherowofcheerleaders,all so happy, so fresh and

excited, as if that terriblenighthadneverhappened.

There was Ronnie downat the end, radiant, shoutingher heart out. Her curly redhair, caught in the brightlights, seemed to glow on itsown.How happy she’d beentobebackonthesquad.

And Debra, normally socool, so withdrawn, wascheering at the top of herlungs.

Onlycheerleaders,Kimmythought, know what this islike. A lot of people put usdown. They think we’rewasting our time. Or we’reout-of-dateorsomething.Butthat’s because they don’tknow this special excitement,the special thrill of getting ahuge crowd to forget itselfandgowild.

The cheer ended toraucousshoutsandapplause.

Kimmy peered down thelineofgirls to seeCorkyandBobbidotheir specialdoublecartwheel.

Ugh, she thought bitterly.What showoffs. They reallymake me sick. With theirblond hair and sweet,innocent faces. Alwaysprancing around together,trying tomake the rest of uslook second rate. I couldthrowup.Ireallycould.

Theechoingdrumsof themarching band broughtKimmy out of her darkthoughts.

No, she decided. I’m notgoing to allow those two toruinthisday.I’mnotgoingtogivethemanotherthought.

Everyone stood andclapped along as the bandplayed the Shadyside Highmarchingsong.

I want only goodmemories of this pep rally,Kimmy thought, clapping ashard as she could. After all,the rally is inhonorofus, inhonorofhowbravewewere,inhonorofhowwesurvivedthatterriblenight.

The band ended itsnumber to wild applause.Corky and Bobbi did theircartwheel again, and Kimmyforcedherselfnottoreact.

Thegirls all turned toherto begin the next cheerroutine.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,let’sgo....”

Kimmy’s eye caught MissGreenleaningagainstthewallof her office and clappingalongwith them, a big smileonherusuallydourface.

In a few minutes MissGreen will name me as thenewcaptain,Kimmythought.

The thought sent a shiver ofexcitementdownherback.

It’s something I’vewantedfor so long. I’ve worked sohardforit,sohard.

I’mnotknockoutbeautifullike the other girls. I’m nottall and well built. I don’thave straight blond hair likethe Corcorans or look like amoviestarlike...Jennifer.

But I’m going to becaptain. I’m finally going to

becaptain.She wished her parents

could have been there to seeit, to see thepeprally, to seetheir daughter, to see howexciting it all was. She hadbeggedthemtocome.But,asusual, they claimed theycouldn’t get away from theirjobs.

Just an excuse, Kimmythoughtbitterly.

Then forced thosethoughts out of her mind.Nothing was going to spoilherday.Nothing.

Whoa!The routine ended. The

band started up immediately.Kimmyturnedtowardthefarsideofthegym,andtheothergirlsfollowedherlead.

As the band finished itsnumber, a deafening cheerwent up as Jennifer wheeled

herselfoutontothefloor.Shewas wearing a new uniformtoo,Kimmysaw.Inherhandwas a maroon and whitepennant with her nameembroidered on it, thepennanttheyhadgivenherinthehospital.

Shewaveditfromherseatas she vigorously wheeledherself across the gym. Theapplausegrewandgrewuntil

Kimmy felt like covering herears.

Jennifer has been so braveduring all this, Kimmythought, staring at her in herwheelchairnowlinedupwiththeothercheerleaders.

So brave and cheerful,even though shemightneverwalkagain.

Even though her life wasruined.

Kimmy wondered if shewouldhavebeensobrave,sosmiling,so...accepting.

Of course, Jennifer hadnearlydiedthatnight,Kimmyremembered. Everyone hadthoughtshewasdead.Soinawayshewas lucky, luckyjusttobealive.

But how could anyoneconsider being crippled,perhapsforlife,lucky?

Kimmy realized that thegym had grown silent.Jennifer had wheeled herselftoamicrophoneandbegunashortspeech.

“I’m not good at makingspeeches,”shewassaying,hervoice so weak and unsteady.“I’dmuch ratherbe cheeringthantalking!”

Nervous laughter rolleddown from the bleachers.

One of the drummers in thebandhitarimshot.

“I just want to say thankyou toeveryoneatShadysideHigh,” Jennifer continued,her voice breaking withsudden emotion. “You’ve allbeen so good to me . . . allmy friends . . .everyone . . .withallthecardsandpresentsandstuff....”Shewavedthepennant. “And I justwant to

tellyouallthat...Ifeelgreat!Go,Tigers!”

She pushed back from themicrophone, waving herpennant, as the entire schooleruptedinapplause.Thebandplayed the marching songagain. Maroon and whitestreamers came flying downfromthebleachers.

Kimmy wiped away thetears that were rolling downher cheeks. She could feel

herself begin to lose control,feeltheloud,chokingsobstrytoforcetheirwayup.

Butshecutthemoff.This wasn’t a sad day. It

wasahappyday.Everyone was smiling and

cheering.This was a celebration. A

celebration that theywere allalive.

SowhydidJennifer’ssmilemake Kimmy feel like

bawling?She turned away from

Jennifer. Itwas the onlywayto keep the sobs down, tokeepherselfincontrol.

I’m just excited, shethought.Overexcited,Iguess.

Shetookadeepbreathandheldit.

Miss Green wasapproaching them, takinglong strides across thegleamingwoodgymfloor,an

intentexpressiononher face.SheworeamaroonandwhiteShadysidesweatshirtovergraysweatpants.Asshenearedthemicrophone,her face flushed,sheclaspedherhandstogetherbehindherback.

Miss Green hated publicspeaking.Sheseldomspokeatassemblies or pep rallies, andwhen she did, she alwaysrockedbackandforthonherfeet and her voice quavered,

and everyone could tell shewasreallynervous.

She smiled at Jennifer,stopped, and made a shortbow to her. Then, her facenearly scarlet, she steppedclosetothemicrophone.

“I have an announcementto make!” she shouted, hervoice echoing off the fourwalls. It took awhile for thecrowd to quiet down. Shestood silently, waiting until

theydid.Kimmy could see amuscletwitchinherjawfromnervousness.

Poor woman, she thoughtsympathetically.

Kimmyfelttheexcitementbegin to tighten her ownmuscles. She realized shewassmiling with trembling lips.She hoped no one could seethemshaking.

“This is a day ofcelebration,” Miss Green

began.“We are celebrating the

great spiritof theseShadysidecheerleaders. And we arecelebratingthespiritshowninparticularbyJenniferDaly.”

The gym grew absolutelysilent.Sosilent,Kimmycouldhear a car horn honkingoutsideintheparkinglot.

“We are all celebratingtodaybecauseJenniferisbackwith us,” Miss Green

continued, rocking on theheels of her white high-tops.“Her courage, her strength,her indomitable spirit, are anexampleforusall.”

Applause.“Now it’s time for me to

announce a new captain,”Miss Green said, glancing atJennifer, who flashed her anencouragingsmile.

Kimmy took a deepbreath. Her heart was

thuddingsohard,shethoughtshemightpassout.

She gave Jennifer a bigsmile,butJenniferhadturnedtostareupintothebleachers.

“I have spent many hoursthinkingaboutthisselection,”Miss Green continued. “AndIknowthat theyoung ladyIhave chosen will lead theTiger cheerleaders with thesame courage and spirit thatJenniferDalyhasshown.”

Yes! Yes! Thank you!Kimmy thought, about toburst.

She took another deepbreathandletitoutslowly.

Miss Green cleared herthroat and then, speakingloudly and enthusiastically,announced the name of thenewcheerleadercaptain.

“No!” Kimmy shriekedoutloud.“Please—no!”

Chapter8

KimmyQuits

Kimmy’s cries of protestwere drowned out by theapplausethatrangdownfromthe bleachers. Several of the

other cheerleaders, includingRonnie and Debra, hadturned to Kimmy to watchhermouthdropopenandherexpression turn to shock anddismay.

BobbiCorcoran?How could Bobbi

Corcoran be namedcheerleadercaptain?

Unfair, Kimmy thought,feeling her surprise turn torage.Impossible!

Afterall,Kimmyhadbeennamed assistant captain lastspring. She had been on thesquad for two years. She hadworkedsohard.Sohard.

So how could she bepassed over for a flashynewcomer?

Bobbi had been on thesquad for only a few weeks.She didn’t know the school.She didn’t know any of theroutines.

SohowcouldMissGreenandJenniferhavechosenher?

Kimmy stood with hershoulders slumped forward,allowingherunhappiness,heranger, to show on her face.Shewasmiserable and upset,andshedidn’tcarewhoknewit.

Astheapplausedieddownand Miss Green continuedtalking,Kimmyglanceddownthelineofcheerleaders.There

wasCorky hugging her sisterjoyfully. Heather and Meganhad rushed over tocongratulate Bobbi. AndBobbihadthewidestsmileonher face, her eyes brimmingwithhappytears.

Yuck, Kimmy thoughtbitterly.

I know why she wasnamed captain. Because she’sso pretty, and I’m not. She’s

so blond and skinny anddisgustinglyall-American.

Okay. So I’m not skinny,and I don’t have long blondhair and look like aSeventeenmodel. But how couldJennifer and Miss Green dothis to me? I’m a bettercheerleader than BobbiCorcoraneverwillbe!

I deserve to be captain.Everyoneknows I deserve tobecaptain.

Kimmy realized then thather entire body wastrembling.Staringupintothebleachers, she felt her angerturntoembarrassment.

Everyone is staring atme,she decided.Everyone in theentire school. They’re allstaring at me. They know Ideserve to be captain. TheyknowI’vebeencheated.

She turnedand sawDebraand Ronnie studying her,

their faces locked insympathy, their eyes onKimmy’s face, trying todetermine how Kimmy wastakingtheawfulnews.

Everyone is watching me,Kimmythought,forcingbackthe loud sobs that pushed atherthroat.Everyoneisfeelingsorryforme.

I’ve never been soembarrassed.

Thisistheworstdayofmylife.

I’ll never forgive Bobbi.Never.

AndI’llneverforgiveMissGreeneither.

I just want to disappear. Ijustwanttodie.

And as bitter thoughtscontinued to spin throughKimmy’s mind, Miss Greenfinished her remarks andstepped back from the

microphone with a relievedsigh.Therewasascatteringofapplause.

Kimmy saw Jennifersmiling, always smiling thatbrave smile of hers,wheelingherselftothesideofthegym.

AndthenBobbi—Bobbi!—led the girls into a circle tobegintheirfinalroutine.

No!Kimmydecided.Noway.

I can’t do this. I’m tooembarrassed. Too humiliated.Iwon’tdoit.Iwon’t!

Iquit,shedecided.Iquitthecheerleaders.She had joined the circle,

followed the othersautomatically like some kindof a sheep.But now, as theyraised their arms high in theair to begin their routine,Kimmy uttered a cry ofdisgust—and took off,

running across the polishedwood floor. Running,running as fast as she could,her eyes narrowed, nearlyshut, her heart pounding inrhythmwitheachthudofhersneakers.

Were those gasps ofsurprise from the bleachers?Werethosestartledquestions?Aworriedbuzzofvoices?

Kimmy didn’t care. Shewas escaping. Escaping and

nevercomingback.As she reached thedouble

doorstothecorridor,runningso hard she nearly collidedwith them, she turned andglanced back. The cheer hadbegun without her; CorkyCorcoran had moved aroundtocloseupthecircle.

I’ll pay her back too,Kimmydecided.

Jennifer.Bobbi.Corky.Allofthem.

Shewasthroughthedoorsandrunningdowntheemptycorridor when the firstanguished sob finally burstfromherthroat.

Chapter9

BobbiandChip

“Congratulations!”Bobbi pulled open her

locker door and turned to

greet a girl she didn’t know.“Thanks,”shesaid,smiling.

“I’mCariTaylor,”thegirlsaid, shifting the books shewas carrying. She was apretty, fragile-looking girlwith blond hair, even lighterand finer thanBobbi’s, and awarm, friendly smile. “Ihavescience lab sixth period too.I’veseenyouthere.”

“Yeah. Right,” Bobbireplied.“I’veseenyoutoo.”

“Ijustwantedtosayhiandcongratulations,” Cari saidwithashrug.Thensheadded,“That accident must havebeenscary.”

“Yeah,” Bobbi said. “Itwas.”

“Well, see youtomorrow.”

“Right.Seeyou.”The long corridor was

emptying out as kids headedforhomeorafter-schooljobs.

Bobbi could still hear theringing applause in her ears,the cheers, the shouts, thepounding of the drumsechoingoffthewalls.

Wow! I just feel so great!Bobbi thought, pulling somebooks and a binder from thetop shelf of her locker. I feelasifIcouldflyhome!

A few other kids, kidsshe’d seen around school butdidn’t reallyknow,calledout

congratulations as they passedby.Maybe ShadysideHigh isanokayplace,Bobbithoughthappily.

During her first weeks inschool, she had wondered ifshe’d ever get to like it.Thekids all seemed so snobby.They all seemed to haveknowneachothertheirwholelives.Bobbiwonderedifshe’dever fit in or find friends ofherown.

But thatdayhaderasedallofherworries.Itwasgoingtobe agreat school year,Bobbidecided. Great. Great. Great.Everythingwasgreat.

Still in her cheerleaderuniform, she looked up anddown the hall. Seeing that itwas empty, she performed ahigh leap, landed, and did acartwheel that nearly carriedherintothewall.

Having gotten that out ofher system, she collected herbooks, stuffed them into herbackpack, and humming toherself, headed out the backdoor to the student parkinglot.

Even the weather is greattoday, she thought, stoppingto take a deep breath. Theafternoon sky was still highand cloudless. The air feltwarm and dry, more like

summer than a day inautumn.

Near the fence, two girlssat on the hood of a car,talking to a boy in amaroonandwhiteletterjacket.Besidethem, another car revved upnoisily. Two boys werepuzzling over a bike with aflat rear tire, scratching theirheadsandscowling.

Beyond the studentparking lot, Shadyside Park

stretched out, still green andvibrant. A broad, grassy fieldwith an empty baseballdiamondsetinonecornerledtothickwoods.

IwishMomandDadwerehome,Bobbi thought. Ican’twaittotellthemthenews.

I’mstillinastateofshock,she toldherself. Itwas suchasurprise. I never dreamed thatMiss Green would name mecaptain!

The other girls must havebeen shocked too, Bobbirealized.EspeciallyKimmy.

Kimmy.She hadn’t stopped to

thinkaboutKimmy.Butnowthethoughtdescendedonherlike a heavy cloud, bringingherbacktoearth.

HadKimmycomeovertocongratulate her? Bobbistruggled to remember. Shehad been surrounded by

everyone all atonce.Butno.She didn’t rememberKimmybeingoneofthem.

I’d better call her orsomething,shethought.

Just then a hand touchedhershoulder,startlingheroutofherthoughts.

“Hi.”She stared into a boy’s

face.Hewashandsome,withfriendlydarkbrowneyes thatcrinkled at the corners, a shy

smile, and lots of unbrushedbrownhairthatseemedtobetossedaroundonhishead.

“Hi.” She returned thegreeting.

It was Chip Chasner,quarterbackoftheTigers.Shehad seen him a lot duringoutdoor practices. He wasfriendly with the othercheerleaders,buthehadneversaidawordtoBobbi.

He fell into step with herasshecrossedtheparkinglot.Hewasbroadshoulderedandtall, especially in his shoulderpadsandcleats.

“I justwanted to say,waytogo,”hesaidshyly,hisdarkeyessmilingather.

“Thanks,” she said,suddenly shy too. “I wasreally surprised. I mean, Ididn’t think they’d pick me.SinceI’mnewandall.”

“We haven’t really met.I’mCharlesChasner,”hesaid.“But everyone calls meChip.”

“I know,” Bobbi replied,feeling her face grow hot. “Ithink you’re a really goodplayer.”

“Thanks.” He beamed ather.Her compliment seemedto make him forget hisshyness. “I’ve watched youtoo.”

“Tough game Fridaynight,” Bobbi said, watchingthetwoboysdispiritedlywalkthedisabledbikeaway.

“Yeah.Winstead is alwaystough,”Chip said,waving toacoupleofgirlswhohadjustemerged from the building.“They’llprobablycreamus.”

Bobbi laughed. “Wow,you’ve sure got confidence,”shesaidsarcastically.

“No. Come on,” hereplied. “I’mpumped for thegame. But you’ve got to berealistic. They went to thestatefinalslastyear.”

“How’d you learn tothrow theball so far?”Bobbiasked,stoppingattheedgeofthe parking lot, shifting herbackpack on her shoulders.“Justpracticealot?”

“Yeah.”He nodded. “Mydad and I used to practice

throwinginthebackyard.Westilldo,whenhehasthetime.He’s working two jobs thesedays,soit’skindoftough.”

“Myparentsbothworkallthe time,” Bobbi told him.“But I’m usually atcheerleading practice orstudying, so I wouldn’t seethemmucheveniftheywerehome.”

“I guess my dad got memy first football when I was

five,” Chip said, leaningagainst the parking lot fence.The wind ruffled his thick,brown hair, his dark eyesstudying Bobbi as he talked.“He loves football, but henever had a chance to play.Always had to work. So Iguess he wanted to do hisplayingthroughme.”

“That can be a lot ofpressure,” Bobbi saidthoughtfully.

Chip’s expressionhardened. “I can handle it,”hesaidsoftly.

“I just meant—” Bobbistarted,surprisedbyhisabruptanswer.

“Are you going out withanybody or anything?” Chipinterrupted.

Caught off guard by thechange of subject, Bobbihesitated. “No,” she finallymanagedtoreply.“Areyou?”

He shook his head. “No.Not anymore.Want tomeetmeaftertheWinsteadgame?”Hestaredatherintently.“Wecould go get a pizza. Youknow. Hang out with someotherguys?”

“Great,” Bobbi replied.“Soundsgood.”

“Well, okay. Excellent.”He glanced up at the clockover the back door of theschool.“I’vegottopractice,”

he said, pushing away fromthe fence. “After the game,wait for me outside thestadiumlockerroom,okay?”

He didn’t wait for her toreply. Instead, he slipped hishelmeton andbegan joggingtoward the practice fieldacross from the baseballdiamond, taking long, easystrides.

What an amazing day!Bobbithought,watchinghim

as he ran. So many goodthingshappeningatonce!

She shook her head,somewhatdazedbyitall.Hernext thought was: I’llprobablybehitbyatruckonthewayhome.

♦♦♦The next evening, a warm,almostbalmyThursdaynight,Bobbi finished her dinner,then hurried to Jennifer’s

house to study. Since theaccident,sheandJenniferhadbecomeclose.

Unlike some of the othergirls,whowantedtoshuttheaccident out of their mindsand forget it had everhappened, Bobbi had visitedJennifer in the hospital everyday.Bobbihadbeentouchedby her new friend’s braveryand serenity. Soon she andJennifer were talking easily,

sharing their thoughts andfeelings as if they had beenlongtimefriends.

Bobbi parked her car onthe street and made her wayup the smooth asphalt drive.Jennifer lived in a sprawling,modernranchhouseinNorthHills,thewealthiestsectionofShadyside.

What a contrast to FearStreet, Bobbi thoughtwistfully, her eyes taking in

the manicured lawns, rakedclean, and the well-cared-forhouses.

The streetlights flickeredon as Mrs. Daly opened thedoortoher.“Oh,hi,Bobbi,”she said, looking tired anddrawn in the pale porchlight.“Jennifer’swaiting for you intheden.”

Bobbi eagerly made herwayacrossthecarpetedlivingroom with its low, sleek

furnitureofchromeandwhiteleatherandintothesmallden,closing the door behind her.“Did you talk to Kimmy?”she asked Jennifer, skippinganygreeting.

Jennifer was seated in herwheelchair, between two redleather couches that facedeach other. She was wearingnavy blue sweats, thesweatshirt sleeves rolled upabove her elbows. Her red-

brown hair was tied behindherheadinasinglebraid.Shehadatextbookinherlap.

“I talked to her,” shereplied, her faceexpressionless. Slowly a smilespread across her full lips.“She’scomingback.”

“Oh, good,” Bobbi said,breathing a long sigh. Shedroppedherbackpackon thecheckered tile floor andplopped down in the red

couch on Jennifer’s right. “Ican’t believe I didn’t evennoticethatshehadrunout.”

“You were a littleexcited,”Jennifersaiddryly.

“ButIshouldhaveknownKimmy would be upset,”Bobbi insisted, rubbing herhand against the smoothleather of the couch arm.“ButIdidn’tseeher.Ididn’tsee anything. It was all

so . . .”Shedidn’t finishherthought.

“Anyway,Italkedtoher,”Jennifer said,wheelingherselfcloser until she was right infront of Bobbi. “She’s not ahappy camper, but I got hertocomearound.”Hermouthfellintoanunhappypout.Sheavoided Bobbi’s eyes.“Kimmy and I used to be soclose.Butnotanymore.”

“I’m really sorry,” Bobbisaidquickly.“Ifit’smyfault,I—”

“No, it isn’t,” Jenniferinterrupted. “You didn’t doanything.Really.”

“How did you get her tocome back on the squad?”Bobbiasked.

“Itoldherweneededher.Isaid,‘WhatwouldhappenifBobbi fell and broke herleg?’”

“And what did she say?”Bobbiwondered.

“She asked if Iwould putthat in writing!” Jenniferreplied.

Both girls burst outlaughing.

“Kimmy isn’t yourbiggestfan,”Jennifersaid.

“Well, duh,” Bobbireplied, rolling her eyes,imitating her little brother,

Sean. “Well,duh”was Sean’sfavoriteexpression.

“Well, I’m glad she’s notquitting,”Bobbisaid.

“Really? Why?” Jenniferdemanded, closing thetextbook on her lap andtossing it onto the couchoppositeBobbi.

“Because . . . because itwould make me feel reallybad,” Bobbi said withemotion.

Jennifer snickered.“Having her around mightmake you feel a lot worse,Bobbi.Shewon’ttalktoyou.You know that. And she’llprobablytrytoturntheothergirls against you. I’m sureshe’sbeenonthephonenightand day with those two palsofhers,DebraandRonnie.”

Bobbi sighed and pulledboth hands back through herhair. “You know, it’s only a

cheerleading squad. It’ssupposedtobefun.”

“Tell that to Kimmy,”Jennifersaidsoftly.Sheshiftedherweightinthewheelchair.“Ow.”

“Are you okay?” Bobbiasked, leaning forward,preparing to jump up if herfriend needed help of somekind.

“Yeah. Fine.” Jenniferforced a smile. “Let’s change

thesubject,okay?”“Yeah. Okay.” Bobbi

settled back on the couch.“Do you know CharlesChasner?”

“Chip? Sure.” Jennifer’ssmile broadened. “Chip is arealbabe.I’vehadacrushonhim since third grade. He’scuternow,though.”

“He asked me out fortomorrow after the game,”Bobbiconfided.

Jennifer’s eyes widened insurprise.“Huh?Chip?”

Bobbinodded.“Yeah.Heasked me out. Yesterday.Afterthepeprally.”

“Really?”Bobbi was startled to see

Jennifer’seyesnarrowandherfeatures tighten. Jenniferglared at Bobbi. “You didn’tsayyes—didyou?”

Chapter10

HorrorintheHall

“Jen—what’s wrong?”Bobbiasked.

Jennifer shook her head,then locked her eyes onBobbi’s. “Don’t you knowthat Chip is Kimmy’sboyfriend?”

“Huh?” Bobbi’s mouthdropped open in shock. Shesuddenlycouldfeelthebloodpulsingathertemples.

“I mean, he was Kimmy’sboyfriend,” Jennifer said,gripping the sides of the

wheelchair,“untilacoupleofweeksago.”

“Acoupleofweeks?”“Yeah.” Jennifer frowned.

“Then he dumped her. Justlikethat.Aftermorethantwoyears.”

“Oh, my gosh.” Bobbislumped down in the softleathercouch.She seemed todeflate. The shock of thisnews made her feel weak.“She’llthink—”

“She’llthinkChipdumpedherforyou,”Jenniferfinishedthethoughtforher.

Bobbi moaned. “Onemore reason for Kimmy tohatemyguts.”

They stared at each otherinsilenceforawhile.Jennifersqueakedherwheelchairbackandforthonthefloor.

Finally Bobbi asked,“WhatshouldIdo?”

Jennifershrugged.“Idon’tknow.He’sreallycute!”

♦♦♦“Girls, how about getting upa little energy?” Miss Greensaid. It was more of acomplaint than a question,and she said the words withdisgust.

Having blown her whistleandsteppedonto the floor tointerrupt thepractice, shedid

an imitation of theway theylooked to her, moving herarms and legs in weary slowmotion, her eyes half-closed,hermouthdroopingopen.

The cheerleaders watchedin sullen silence. Bobbi feltembarrassed. She was leadingthe practice, after all. It washerjobtogetthegirlstoshowsomespirit,notMissGreen’s.

But Bobbi was finding itdifficult to get some of the

girls to listen to her, eventhoughitwasthelastpracticebeforethegamethatnight.

Kimmy had done a goodjobofturningthegirlsagainstBobbi. It hadn’t been hard,Bobbirealizedunhappily.Thegirls had all known Kimmyfor years. Bobbi was anewcomer,anintruder.

Most of the cheerleadershadn’t wanted to allow theCorcoransonthesquadinthe

firstplace.AndnowherewasBobbi, giving theminstructions, leading them, ortrying to lead them, trying togetthemtocooperate.

“When you do‘SssssssssteamHeat’ like that,”Miss Green was scoldingthem, “it makes me thinkyourboiler’sbroken.”

It was supposed to be ajoke, but it fell flat on the

dispiritedsquad.Nooneevencrackedasmile.

Standing beside MissGreen, Bobbi let her eyeswanderdowntherowofgirls.She stopped at Kimmy, whowas glaring at her, her eyesnarrowed.Kimmy’s starewasso hard, so cold, it forcedBobbitolookaway.

The gym doors opened,and Jennifer wheeled herselfin. Smiling at Bobbi, she

made her way silently alongthe far wall, hermaroon andwhitepennantonherlap,herbackpack attached to herwheelchair.

Bobbi wished Jenniferhadn’t come. She feltembarrassed to have Jennifershowupwhile thegirlswerebeinglecturedbyMissGreen.JenniferwouldseethatBobbididn’t have control, that thegirlsweren’twithher.

She knew Jennifer wouldbe sympathetic. She wasBobbi’s best friend, after all.Butitwasstillembarrassing.

Bobbi felt a hand on hershoulder. It was Corky, whogaveheranencouragingsmileandthenquicklyresumedherplace.

Bobbi took adeepbreath.“Okay, guys,” she shouted,clapping her handsenthusiasticallyandmovingin

frontofMissGreen,“let’stryit again! Let’s really getsssssteamedup!”

She saw Kimmy roll hereyes and sarcastically muttersomething to Debra. Thenthe girls lined up and beganthe Steam Heat routine, thistime with a little moreenthusiasmthanbefore.

It wasn’t great. Ronniewasoutof step for theentirelastpartofit,butBobbididn’t

think it was worth makingthemdoitagain.

As the routineendedwithacheerandaspreadeagle,sheturned to see Jennifer andMiss Green talking heatedlynearthewall.MissGreenwasleaning over the wheelchair,closetoJennifer’sear.Bothofthemwereshakingtheirheadsastheyspoke.

Aretheytalkingaboutme?Bobbi wondered, dread

building in the pit of herstomach. Is Miss Greencomplaining aboutme, abouthow I haven’t been able towinoverthegirls?

“Arewefinished?”Kimmy’s shrill question

madeBobbi turnback to thelineofgirls.

“Yeah.Iguess,”Bobbisaiddistractedly.

“Well, can we go?”Kimmy asked impatiently. “I

mean, the game’s in a fewhours. We have to go homeand have dinner andeverything,don’twe?”

Kimmy was making noattempt tohideherdislikeofBobbi.Toherdismay,Bobbisaw that some of the othergirls seemed to adoptKimmy’sattitude.

They all agree with her,Bobbi thought, her headsuddenly pounding, her

temples throbbing. TheyprobablyallthinkthatKimmyshouldbecaptain,notme.

And now even Jenniferand Miss Green are talkingaboutme.

“We’ll meet here in thegym at seven,” Bobbiannounced dispiritedly,avoiding their eyes byglancingupat the scoreboardclock. “Ronnie will be inchargeofequipment.”

RonnierolledhereyesandcastaglanceatKimmy.

“No fire batons tonight,”Bobbi announced. “Thatroutine needs a lot morework. We’ll try it forhomecomingnextweek.”

The girls picked up theirbelongings and quickly madetheir way out of the gym.Bobbi stood in themiddleofthe floor, her shoulders

slumped, feeling discouraged,watchingthegirlsexit.

“I thought it went a lotbetter, that last time,”Corkysaid, offering an encouragingsmile.

“Liar,”Bobbimuttered.Corky shrugged. “No.

Really.”“Thanks,” Bobbi said

dryly, watching Jennifer andMiss Green still talkinganimatedly.

“You coming straighthome?”Corkybenttoscratchoneknee.Herhairwasdampfromperspiration.

At least one cheerleader isreally trying, Bobbi thoughtmiserably. “Go on withoutme,”shetoldhersister.“I’vegottogetallmystuff.”

Givingheraquick,playfulsalute, Corky obedientlyheaded to the door. With asigh, Bobbi turned and saw

that Jennifer and Miss Greenhad disappeared into theadvisor’sofficeinthecorner.

She pulled the whistlefrom around her neck and,swingingitbyitscord,beganwalking slowly toward thedoor. Being cheerleadercaptain is supposed tobe fun,shethoughtregretfully.

Well, she told herself, I’llfindawaytowinthemover.Maybe even Kimmy. Once

again she rememberedKimmy’s cold stare, andshuddered.

She stepped into thehallway, which was emptyand silent. Her sneakerssqueakedalongthehardfloor.She turned a corner, climbedthestairstothefirstfloor,andheaded to her locker tocollectherbooksandjacket.

The long corridorstretched before her like a

tunnel. The lights had beendimmedto saveenergy.Graylockers lined bothwalls. Theclassrooms were dark andempty.

Bobbi coughed, the soundechoing through the longtunnel.

Theloudcrashbehindhermadeherjumpandcryout.

Shespunaroundintimetoseealockerdoorswingopen,thenslamshut.

“Oh!”Another crash. In front of

her.She turned to see two

lockers against the right wallswingopen.

As she stared in disbelief,two more lockers pulledopen. The doors seemed tohesitate, then slammed shutwithdeafeningforce.

Hermouthopeninasilentcry, Bobbi gaped in

astonishment.Doors slammed, then

swungopenagain.Bang.Bang.The sound echoed until it

becameaterrifyingroar.Bang. Bang. Both rows of

locker doors swung open atonce, as if pulled by invisiblehands.

“No!”Bobbicried.This isn’t happening. I’m

imaginingthis!

Her heart pounding, shedropped the whistle andbegan to run. Past swinging,slamming locker doors.Through theechoing sounds,abarragelikegunfire.

“No!Stop!”Thewalloflockersonher

left swung open in unison,then slammed shut with adeafeningcrash.

“No!Please!”

She held her hands overherearsandran.

And then she heard thescreams.

Agirl,screaminginhorror.High-pitched, shrill

screamsofanguish,ofpain.Who’s there? Bobbi

wondered, running betweentheslamminglockers.Who isit?

The girl screamed again,the sound rising above the

thunderofthelockers.Andagain.Bobbi’s sneakers pounded

against the floor. She ranblindly through the darkhallway, locker doorsswinging open, thenslamming shut on both sidesofher.

Anotherscreamofagony.Bobbi reached the end of

the corridor, turned thecorner,andstaredinsurprise.

Chapter11

WhoWasScreaming?

Noonethere.

The front hall wasdeserted.

Silence.“Hello?”Bobbicalled.Noreply.Noscreams.The

only sound now was that ofherloud,gaspingbreaths.

“Hello? Anyone there?”she called out in a hoarse,chokedvoice.

Silence.Noone.

Confused and frightened,her hands pressed tightly toher burning cheeks, Bobbiturned back. And peeredcautiously down the long,dimcorridor.

Thedarklockersalongthewallswereallshuttight.

Her ears rang from thecrashing,bangingsoundstheyhad made. But now theystoodstillandsilent.Shetookareluctantstep,thenanother,

expecting them to fly openagain, to begin theirfrighteningsymphony.

Silence.No lockers banging. No

girlscreaminginterror.Her legs trembling, Bobbi

made her way to her locker.She opened the combinationlockwitha shakinghandandpulledthedooropen.

Sheglanceddownthehall.Stillsilentandempty.

The silence seemed toechoinhermind.

AmIcrackingup?AmItotallylosingit?She pulled out the things

sheneeded, stuffed themintoher backpack, locked thedoor,andran.

♦♦♦Athome,intheupstairsroomthey shared, Corky didn’tbelieve her. “You’re very

tired,” she saidsympatheticallyfromherdesk,whereshewastryingtocramin a little homework beforeshehadtoleaveforthegame.“You’ve been under a lot ofpressure.”

“You don’t believe me?”Bobbi shrieked, immediatelyangry at herself for notkeepinghercool.

Corky stared at her sisterthoughtfully. “Locker doors

flyingopen?”“I know it sounds crazy

—”Bobbistarted.“Thehallwasdark,right?”

Corky interrupted, tappingher pencil against her opentextbook. “It was late. Youwere tired. Practice wasrough. You’re nervous aboutthegametonight.”

Bobbi started to protest,thenchangedhermind.Witha loud sigh, she tossedherself

onto her bed. “I wouldn’tbelieve me either,” shemuttered softly. “I wouldn’t—”

She stoppedandgasped inhorror, staring across theroom.

Corkyfollowedhersister’sfrightenedgaze.

Bothgirlswatchedinsilentterror as the closet doorswungopen.

Chapter12

ChipIsBuried

“It’s—it’s happeningagain,” Bobbi uttered, hervoiceachokedwhisper.

Corky raised her hands toher face, her eyes wide withfear,andstaredopenmouthedas the closet door continuedtomove.

And Sean stepped out, atriumphant grin spread acrosshis face, his eyes sparklingwith evil glee. “Hi,” he said,giving them a nonchalantwave.

“Oh!” Bobbi jumped up,her hands balling into fists at

hersides.“You little creep!” Corky

screamed. She grabbed Seanbytheneckandpretendedtochokehim.

He collapsed to his kneesinafitofgiggles.

“Howlonghaveyoubeenin the closet?” Bobbidemanded, joining Corky inholding him down on thefloor.

“It wasn’t me. It was aghost,”hesaid.

Both girls began ticklinghimfuriously.

“Ow!Ow!Ow!”hecried,squirmingandlaughing.

All three of them werelaughing hysterically now,wrestlingonthefloor.

Digging her fingers intoSean’s bony ribs, Bobbiglanced up at the clock.“Oh.” She rolled away and

stoodup. “Comeon,Corky.We’ve got to eat dinner andchange.We’ll be late for thegame.”

Corky gave Sean one lasthard tickle, then climbed toherfeet.

“Shadyside’s going tolose,” Sean called after them,following them downstairs.“Shadysidestinks.”

♦♦♦

The excitement of the game,the cheers of the Shadysidefans who filled the stadium,the white lights cuttingthroughthechillofthenight,makingthefieldbrighterthandaylight under the starlessblack sky, forced all thoughtsofthatafternoonfromBobbi’smind.

“Tigersgrowl!Tigersroar!

Doitagain—more,more,MORE!”

Across the field theWinstead High cheerleaders,in their blue and golduniforms, were clapping andcheering, rousing the fewhundredWinstead fans in theaway team bleachers. Theircries barely carried over thecheers and shouts that roareddown from the Shadyside

supporters,andtheloudblastsand drumrolls from theShadyside marching band intheir own bleachers near theendzone.

“Tigersroar!Tigersgrowl!

Wewantatouchdown—now,now,NOW!”

Her eyes darting back andforth from the game on the

field to the crowd in thestadium, Bobbi led the girlsthrough their cheers. Theywere onstage now, in fullview of everyone. Thebitterness and rivalries thathadcreatedsomuchillfeelinginpracticewereallforgotten.

Bobbi was in charge, andno one questioned hercommands.Shecalledoutthecheersandroutinestheywereto perform as she carefully

watched the action on thefield.

“Goteam,goteam,go-go-go-go-goGO!”

The cheers thundereddown from the stadium,punctuated by applause andexcited shouts.Bobbiglancedquickly down the line ofcheerleaders, catching a smile

of encouragement fromCorkyatthefarend.

Before the game, Ronniehad complained that shewasn’t feeling well, that shethought she was comingdownwiththeflu.ButBobbisaw that she was giving onehundred percent, cheeringwithherusualenthusiasm.

At the far end of theplayers’ bench,Bobbi spottedJennifer. She was in her

wheelchair,amaroonblanketover her lap, waving herShadysidepennant.Theireyesmet.Jennifer,smilinghappily,waved.Bobbiwavedback.

Whistlesblewonthefield.Bobbi heard laughter spreadacross the stadium bleachers.Sheturnedtoseethecauseofthe interruption. A whitewirehaired terrier had runontothefield.

Two Shadyside playerswere trying tochase it to thesidelines. But the dog,enjoying theattention, ran inwide circles, its stub of a tailwaggingfuriously.

Finally one of the refereesmanaged to pick the dogup.He jogged to the sidelineswith it to a loud chorus ofgood-natured boos. Thenwhistlesrangoutforthegametoresume.

Bobbi stared over theheads of the players on thebench, watching Chip leadtheoffenseoutofthehuddle.The first quarter had beenpretty even. Both teams hadbeen able to move the ball,although neither team hadscored.

Now, as the secondquarter began, the TigerswerestartingontheWinsteadthirty-five-yard line. Good

field position. The cheersgrew louder. The noise levelin the stadium rose as ifsomeone had turned up thevolumecontrol.

Watching Chip stepbehind the center, Bobbiwondered what he wasthinking. Was he thinkingabout the Winstead linemenstaring at him from undertheir helmets, about to comechargingtowardhim?Washe

thinking only about the playhe had called? Was henervous? Was he scared todeath?

She decided she’d have toaskhimthesequestionswhenshemethimafterthegame.

Afterthegame.Sheforcedthatthoughtoutofhermind.Shecouldn’t thinkabout thatnow.Shehad toconcentrate,stayalert,stayontheball.

She heard Chip call outthe signals in his loud, high-pitched voice. Then she sawhim take the snap fromcenter. He took a few stepsback. He raised his arm tothrowingposition.

Anotherstepback,hisarmreadytothrow.

The crowd roared. Bobbiheldherbreath.

Chipseemedto freeze,hisarm cocked, his feet planted

firmlyonthegrass.He stood there until two

Winstead tacklers swarmedover him and pushed him totheground.

Bobbi realized she hadbeen holding her breath thewhole time. She exhaled,turned to the cheerleaders,and called out a clappingcheer.

What had happened toChip? shewondered,moving

in line and clapping. Thecrowd responded half-heartedly. The cheer wasdrowned out by mutteringand heated voices. People inthe standsmustbe asking thesamequestion,sherealized.

Chip had had plenty oftime to throw, but he hadn’teven pumped his arm. Hedidn’t seemtobe looking fora receiver. And he hadn’ttried to scramble away when

the line came crashing in onhim.

Oh, well, thought Bobbi,it’sjustoneplay.

She and the cheerleadersfinished the cheer and turnedback to the game. Some ofthe players on the benchhadclimbed to their feet, soBobbi had tomove closer toseetheplayingfield.

ThestadiumgrewquietasChip stepped up to the

center, quiet enough forBobbi to hear the Winsteadcheerleadersonthefarsideofthefield.

Again, Bobbi held herbreath as Chip took the ballandsteppedback. Itappearedto be a running play. DaveJohnson, the Tigers’ bigrunning back, camecrunching forward, his armsoutstretched.

But again Chip froze inplace.Hedidn’thandoff theball. Johnson ran past himintotheline.Chipstoodwiththe ball in his hands. Hedidn’t run or step back topass.

“Oh!” Bobbi cried out asChipwastackledhardaroundthe knees and dropped for aloss.

Voices in the stadiumbleacherscriedoutinsurprise.

Theentirestadiumseemedtobuzz.Bobbiheardascatteringofboos.

Sheshookherheadhardasif trying to force the playfromhermind.“Let’sdoGoTigers,”shecalledout.

Thegirls linedupquickly.Except for Kimmy, whoremained just behind theplayers’ bench, staring ontothefield.

“Kimmy!”Bobbicalled.

ButKimmydidn’tseemtohear her. She was staringstraight ahead with thestrangest expression on herface.

“Kimmy!”Bobbirepeated.But itwas too late to do thecheer anyway. Chip wasleading the team out of thehuddle for the third-downplay.

Again the stadium grewquiet.

Thewindsuddenlypickedup, blowing the flag and thebig Shadyside pennantbeneath it on the pole,making them flapnoisily, theropeclipsclangingagainstthemetalflagpole.

Come on, Chip! Bobbithought,crossingherfingers.

Across the field thecheerleaders in blue and goldwere standing in a tight line,

staring in rapt silence at thefield.

Chip took the ball fromthe center. Johnson camerollingtowardhim.ButChipkept the ball. It was a fakerun.

Chip backpedaled quicklyandstartedtorollout.

“Throw it!” Bobbiscreamed, cupping her handsto form a megaphone.“Throwit!”

Chipstopped.Hefroze.“Throwit!Throwit!”Chipdidn’tmove.Hewas

holdingtheballathiswaist.“Throwit!”Shadyside players were

shoutingtohim.“I’m open! I’m open!”

Johnson was yellingdownfield.

Chip was frozen like astatue.

Bobbi’s mouth droppedopeninasilentcryasshesawtheWinstead players close inonhim.

Severaltacklersgottohimatthesametime.

The ball dribbled out ofChip’s hand as they coveredhim, pulled him down, andpiledontopofhim.

Players scrambled for theball.

Whistlesblew.

The stadium remainedstrangelysilent.

“They buried him!” BobbiheardKimmysay.

Buriedhim.Bobbimovedclosertothe

sidelines, stepping in front ofthe players’ bench. TheWinstead playerswere slowlyclimbing off Chip, makingtheir way triumphantly totheirbenchacrossthefield.

Buriedhim.Buriedhim.

Bobbisuddenlyfeltcoldallover.

The tacklerswereall gonenow.

ButChip,sprawledflatonhisback,wasn’tgettingup.

Chapter13

“IWasDead”

Bobbi showered andchanged quickly into a greenturtlenecksweaterandashort,straightblackskirt,whichshe

pulled over green tights. Shebrushedherhair, frowning atherself in the water-spottedlocker-roommirror.

Feeling excited, she madeher way out of the room,calling out good night to thefewgirlswhowerestillthere.As she half-walked, half-jogged back outside to thefootball team’s locker room,she relived that second-

quarter nightmare, seeing thescenerepeatinhermind.

Therewas Chip frozen inplace. And there were theWinstead tacklers swarmingover him. And there wasChipoutcoldontheground,sprawledsoflat,sostill.

And then there came thestretcher. The worried coachand players forming a tightcircle around their fallenquarterback. And then Chip

beingcarriedaway.Underthebright—too bright—stadiumlights, Bobbi saw his handsdangling limply, lifelessly,overthesidesofthestretcher,sawthathiseyeswereclosed,his head tilted at such astrangeangle.

He’sdead,shethought.It was so silent in the

stadium.Sounearthlysilent.We’realldead.All.

But then whistles blew.Thegameresumed.

“Chasner injured on theplay,” the stadium announcerinformedeveryone.Oldnewsalready.

The voices came back.The cheers and shouts. Theband revived, blared out theTigers’ fight song, the tubaspunctuating each beat with araucousblat.

Bobbi, feeling shaken andstunned,calledoutthecheers.Somehow,sheknew,shehadtokeepgoing.

But is he okay? shewondered.

Isheokay?Winstead scored quickly.

The Tigers came back withOverman, Chip’s backup.They tried some runningplays that didn’t work. Afterthreeplays,theyhadtopunt.

Again Bobbi heardscattered boos. Thecheerleaders across the fieldwere leaping high, shoutingwithrenewedenthusiasm.

Isheokay?IsChipokay?The game lost all interest

forher.Shecalledoutcheers,kepttheroutinesgoing,allonautomaticpilot.

Word on the bench wasthat Chip had probablysufferedamildconcussionand

was feeling fine now.Everyonewasveryrelieved.

She saw that he didn’tcomeoutforthesecondhalf.

Did they take him to ahospital? Bobbi wondered. Ishe still in the locker room?Does he still expect me tomeethim?

The Tigers lost twenty-onetosix.

And now here she was,nervously waiting in the

studentparkinglot,infrontofthedoortotheteamdressingroom. The stadium lightsdimmed, then went out,casting the stadium, theparkinglot,theentirebackoftheschool,intosuddennight.

As if someone had turnedoffthesun,Bobbithought.

Ashereyesadjustedtothenew darkness, she sawDebraand Ronnie heading acrossthe parking lot. Involved in

conversation, they didn’tnotice her. Bobbi watchedthem disappear around thecorner, both of them talkinganimatedly, gesturing withtheirhands.

Strange that Kimmy isn’twith them, she thought.MaybeKimmyhadadate.

The locker-room doorswung open. BobbirecognizedDaveJohnson,therunning back. He came

bouncingout,carryingasmallknapsack, his hair still wetfromtheshower.

“IsChip—Ishe in there?”Bobbistammered.

“Yeah.He’s comingout,”Johnsontoldher.

“Isheokay?”Bobbiasked.But Johnson was already

halfway across the rapidlyemptyingparkinglot.

Bobbistartedtoshoutafterhim, but the door opened

again andChip appeared.Hemoved forward unsteadily,smiling at her, his face pale,almost bloodless under theparking lot lights. He waswearing faded jeans and aShadysideletterjacketthathehadsnappeduptothecollar.

“Hi,”hecalled.“How’s itgoing?”Hissmilewasforced,she saw. His eyes weren’tquitefocusingonher.

“Are you okay?” sheblurtedout.

The question seemed tocatchhimoffguard.“I’mnotsure,” he replied, wrinklinghisforehead.

Hesteppedclosertoher.“What happened?” Bobbi

asked. “I was . . . well . . .worried.”

“Metoo.”Shewaited for him to say

more, but his face fell into a

thoughtful,farawaystare.“So what happened? I

mean—you’reokay?”“I guess,” he said slowly.

“Maybe a slight concussion.That’s what they said. I’msupposed togo righthome. Ifeelkindoffunny.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t hidethe disappointment from hervoice.“Ihaveacar,”shesaid.“CanIgiveyoualift?”

“Yeah. That would begreat. My parents are out oftown. Actually, I’m glad mymomwasn’tatthegame.Sheworries.”

“Do you feel kind ofweird?”

“Yeah.” He nodded.“Kind of. You know,spacey.”

“It looked so scary whenyou didn’t get up,” Bobbisaid, leading the way to her

parents’ Accord, which wasparked around the front onthe street. “Were youknockedout?”

“I guess.” He put a handon her shoulder as if heneededtosteadyhimselfashewalked.

She slowed down. Hewaved to a couple of playersfromtheteam.

“Didithurt?”sheasked.“No.Notreally.”

“Am I asking too manyquestions?”sheasked.

Hedidn’treply.Wow, this is sure going

great, Bobbi thoughtunhappily. I’m askingquestion after question, andhe’sstaringoffintospace.Hecan barely walk or evenanswerme.

They made their way insilence to the car. Sheunlocked the passenger door

andheldthedooropenasheslidintothefrontseat.

A few seconds later shestarted up the car and turnedon the headlights. “I don’tknow where you live,” shesaid,turningtohim,adjustinghershoulderseatbelt.

“It was like I was dead,”hereplied.

She stared into his eyes.“Huh?”

“ItwaslikeIwasparalyzedor something. I couldn’t getmy body to move, to doanything.”He turnedhis eyestothewindshield.Agroupofkids crossed in front of thecar. One of them tapped onthehoodashepassed.

“Chip—are you feelingokay? Should I call yourparents or something?” sheasked, feeling a stabofworryinthepitofherstomach.

“Well, aren’t youwondering why I didn’t passthe ball?Or hand it off?” heasked heatedly. “Isn’t thatwhat everyone wants toknow?”

“Thedoctorsaidyouhadaconcussion, right?” Bobbisaid, a little frightened. Shestarted to pull away fromthecurb, but he stopped her,placing his hand over hers.Hishandwasice-cold.

“Before I got theconcussion,” he said, morequietly.“Before.WhenIwasplaying. I wanted to throwtheball,but itwas like Ihadno control. Like I wasparalyzed or something. Justforthatmoment.”

“I don’t understand,”Bobbisaid,shakingherhead.

Oncomingheadlightsfilledthe carwith light.Bobbi andChipbothshieldedtheireyes.

A car roared by filled withShadyside kids, all thewindows down, everyonesinging along to a blaringradio.

“I couldn’t hand it offeither,” Chip said. Sherealized he was explaining itto himself. She wondered ifhe even cared whether shewas in the car. “I didn’tfreeze. I just wasn’t there. Imean, I was and I wasn’t. I

knew where I was, but Icouldn’tmove.”

“Uh, Chip . . .” Bobbistarted, reachingagain for thegearshift. They still hadn’tmoved from the curb.“Maybewe’dbetter—”

He startled her by turningin the seat, leaning towardher, and grabbing hershoulders with both of hishands.“Chip—”shebegan.

“I’m kind of scared,” hesaid, his eyes wild andunfocused,his facecloserandcloser to hers. “You know?I’mreallykindofscared.”

And then he pulled herdown to him and started tokissher.Hislipsfelthardanddry against hers. His handsheld on to her shoulders,pulledhertohim.

Bobbistartedtopullaway.But he seemed so needy, so

frightened.Returninghiskiss,she raised her hands to hiswrists and removed themfromher shoulders.Thensheslidherhandsaroundthebackofhisneck.

To her surprise, he wastremblingallover.

Thekissendedassuddenlyas it had begun. Chip, hisexpressionalittleembarrassed,leaned back against his seat.“Sorry.I—”

“That’s okay,” Bobbireplied,realizingherheartwaspounding.

“Maybe we’d better getme home,” Chip said,avoidinghereyes, staringoutthepassengerwindow,whichwasbeginningtosteamup.“Ijustfeelsoweird.”

“Okay.” Bobbi put thegearshiftintoDriveandpulledaway from the curb. As hedirected her to his house on

CanyonRoad, sherepeatedlyglanced over at him. Heseemed to flicker on and offin the light of the passingstreetlights,sopale,soghostlypaleandworriedlooking.

“Bobbi, what happened tome tonight?” he whispered,staring out of the passengerwindow.

Bobbihadnoreply.

Chapter14

KimmyHasaProblem

“Bobbi—can I talk toyou?”

Kimmy came boundingacrossthegymbeforepracticeon Monday afternoon, hercheeks flushed, her eyesangry.

“I just got here,” Bobbisaiddistractedly,searchingthegym.Everyone seemed to beready. Megan and Heatherwerealreadyworkingononeof the new routines. MissGreen was standing behind

herdeskinheroffice, talkingonthephone.

“Sorry I’m late,” Bobbicalledtotheothers.

“I really need to talk toyou,” Kimmy insisted, handson her waist. Her blackcrimped hair was moredisheveled than usual. Thesleeves of her sweater wererolled up, one above theelbow,theotherbelow.

Bobbi waved to Corky.She tossed her backpackagainstthewall.“Whatabout,Kimmy?” she askedimpatiently. “I’ve had theworstday.First I forgotaboutachemistryquiz.Then—”

“About Chip,” Kimmysaidthroughclenchedteeth.

Bobbi’s eyes widened insurprise. She could feel herface growing hot. “Chip?Whatabouthim?”

Kimmyglaredather.“Well—whatabouthim?”“Youmadealittlemistake,

Bobbi,”Kimmy said, tappingher sneaker nervously on thegym floor, like a thumpingrabbit foot.One hand playedwith the silver megaphonependant she always worearoundherneck.

“Huh?”“Chip is my boyfriend,”

Kimmysaidheatedly.

BobbiglancedpastKimmyand saw that the other girlshad stopped their practicingand were standing aroundstaring with unconcealedinterest at this unpleasantconfrontation.

“Couldwe talk about thisafter practice?” Bobbi asked,gesturingtotheaudiencetheyhadattracted.

“No way,” Kimmyinsisted, fingering the silver

pendant. “Chip is myboyfriend.We’ve been goingtogether for a long time.Askanyone.”Shegesturedbacktothe other girls, who shifteduncomfortably and avoidedBobbi’seyes.

“Kimmy, listen—” Bobbisaidquietly,backingaway.

“Youmadealittlemistake,Bobbi. A little mistake,”Kimmy repeated, raising her

voice, following Bobbi,movingveryclosetoher.

Bobbi felt herself losingher temper. What right didKimmy have to do this toher? She was only trying toembarrass Bobbi in front ofthe other cheerleaders. Shewas only trying to turn thegirlsagainstBobbievenmore.

“You’retheonewhomadethe mistake,” Bobbi blurtedout. “You’re forgetting one

little detail, Kimmy—I didn’taskChipout.Heaskedme!”

Kimmy’s eyes grew wide.Then,utteringacryofanger,shelungedatBobbi,grabbingthesidesofherhairwithbothhands,pullinghard.

Startled,Bobbigasped.ShetriedtoduckoutofKimmy’shold. ButKimmy had a firmgrasp on her hair. Bobbiyelped in pain and struggledtopullKimmy’shandsoff.

Suddenly a voice wascalling, “Stop! Girls—stop!Please!”

And Jennifer wheeled herchair right between the twocombatants. “Stop it—please!Kimmy!Bobbi!”

Both girls stumbledbackward. Surprised to seeJennifer appear out ofnowhere, they hesitated,pantingnoisily.

Bobbi’s head throbbed.Sheraisedahandandtriedtosmoothherhair.

“Girls—whatisgoingon?”MissGreencametrottingoutofheroffice, a lookof alarmon her face. “I was on thephoneandwhenI lookedup—”

“It’s okay,” Jennifer toldher, backing her wheelchairup, her eyes on Bobbi. “Aslightdisagreement.”

“GoodLord!”MissGreencried, staring first at Bobbi,thenatKimmy,whohadbentdown to pick the silvermegaphone pendant up offthefloor.

Embarrassed and upset,Bobbi stared at the bleachersat the other end of the gym.Takinginbiggulpsofair,shestruggled to catchherbreath.Her throat felt as dry ascotton.

Kimmy fiddled with theclasp of the pendant chain,herhandsshakingvisibly.Herfacewascrimson,andadampclump of her hair had fallenoveroneeye.

“I think you two hadbetterapologizetoeachotherright now,” Miss Green saidsternly, talking to them as iftheywerefour-year-olds.

Neithergirlreplied.

Jennifer backed herwheelchairoutoftheway.

Kimmy fastened themegaphone pendant aroundher neck, glaring at Bobbi asshedidit.

“This is very bad timing,”MissGreen said, crossing herarms in front of her chest.“Especially since you twohave to work together socloselyonthenewroutine.”

Thenewroutine.

Bobbi had forgotten theywere going to work on thenewroutine.Shesighed.Thenew routine was long anddifficult. And it ended withKimmy doing a pike, divingoff Corky’s shoulders—andbeingcaughtbyBobbi!

“Maybeweshouldpracticesomething easier today,”Bobbimutteredglumly.

“We’re not practicinganything until you and

Kimmy apologize to eachother for acting like spoiledbabies,” Miss Green said,frowning.

Bobbi glanced past MissGreen at the other girls.Corky was making funnyfaces at her. Helpful. Veryhelpful.

The other girls all lookedterriblyuncomfortable.DebraandRonniehadgonebacktopracticing their splits. They

werepretendingthatthelittledramawasn’ttakingplace.

“There’s nothing toapologizeabout,”Kimmysaiddefiantly.

Nothing to apologizeabout?Bobbithought,rollinghereyes.Sheattackedme!

“Well, if you really feelthat way,” Miss Green saidangrily, her arms still crossed,“I’ll have no choice but to

suspendbothofyoufromthesquad.”

A few of the girls gasped.Ronnie and Debra stoppedtheirexercises.

“Well . . .” Kimmy saidslowly,avoidingBobbi’seyes.

“I’mwillingtoapologize,”Bobbi said softly. Eventhough this is entirelyKimmy’s fault, she added toherself.

“IguessIamtoo,”Kimmysaidgrudgingly,herblueeyesflashing.

“I should hope so,” theadvisor said, lowering herarms. “After all, this is acheerleading squad—not thewrestlingteam.”

Bobbi glanced at Jennifer,whohadbackedupnearly tothe wall. Jennifer flashedBobbianencouragingsmile.

“I’m sorry,” Kimmy saidsullenly, and extended herhand.

Bobbi took her hand. Itfelt hot and wet. “I’m sorrytoo,”shesaidsoftly.

“That’s better,” MissGreen said,more thana littlerelieved. “I’m sure you girlscanfindamorecivilizedwayto work out yourdifferences.”

Bobbi and Kimmy bothnodded.

Bobbi let go of Kimmy’shand. The two eyed eachotherwarily.

Kimmy will never be myfriend,Bobbirealized.

Hernextthought:Willshealwaysbemyenemy?

“This new routine is sotricky,” Miss Green wassaying, “so complicated. Thetiming is split-second. You

two girls have to be able torelyoneachother.Youhaveto have confidence in eachother.” She called the othercheerleadersovertobeginthepractice.

Bobbiwasn’t in themoodto work on anything new.She still felt strange, out ofsorts. How could Kimmyhave attacked her like that?Didn’tshehaveanypride?

“Let’s try the last part oftheroutine first,”MissGreensuggested. “Why don’t youexplainitagain,Bobbi.”

“Actually, Corky shouldexplain it,” Bobbi replied,turning to her sister. “Corkyinventedit.Weuseditatthestate finals last year, and itreallygotabigreaction.”

Bobbi sawKimmymuttersomething to Debra. Both

girls snickered quietly tothemselves.

“It’s easier to demonstrateit,”Corkysaid.“Bobbi—doashoulder stand. We’ll do thisnow without the rest of thepyramid. But in the realroutine, she’d be up muchhigher.We’ll show you howthe pike works. Miss Green,will you catch Bobbi whenshedives?”

Bobbi and Miss Greenobediently moved into placeas the other girls watchedintently.“You’llbedoingthispike, Kimmy,” Miss Greensaid, “so watch carefully. Ifyouhaveanyquestions—”

“I’m watching,” Kimmysaidsharply.

Bobbi stepped behindCorky and grabbed Corky’shands. Then she placed onesneakeronCorky’sbentknee

and, with a boost fromHeather, who was standingbehind her, raised her othersneaker to Corky’s shoulder,andpulledherselfupuntilshewas standing on Corky’sshoulders.Corkybroughtherhands up to Bobbi’s ankles,grippingthemtightly,lockingherinplace.

MissGreenmovedinfrontof Corky and readied herselfto catch Bobbi as she dove.

“Ready, Bobbi?” Corkyasked, keeping her shoulderssteady,bracingherself.

“Here goes,” Bobbi said.She leapt up off Corky’sshoulders, bringing her feetup, folding her body into aperfect V, and dropped in asittingpositionrightintoMissGreen’swaitingarms.

Someofthegirlsburstintoenthusiastic applause.“Excellent!”MissGreencried

as Bobbi lowered her feet tothefloor.“Youreallymadeitlookeasy.”

“We’vepracticedita lot,”Bobbisaidmodestly.

“Kimmy—are you readytotryit?”MissGreenasked.

“I guess so,” Kimmy saidreluctantly,eyeingBobbi.

“Bobbi will catch you.Runthroughitslowly,”MissGreen instructed as KimmysteppedbehindCorky.“Take

as long as it takes. Don’tworry about the number ofbeats. We’ll practice thetiminglater.”

The girls who were notinvolved in this part of theroutinesteppedbacktomakeroom. Ronnie was talkingexcitedly to two of them,shaking her head, glancing atBobbi.

“Ireallydon’tbelievethis.My life is in your hands,”

KimmytoldBobbidryly.“No problem,” Bobbi

replied. “I haven’t droppedanyoneinweeks.”

Kimmy didn’t smile atBobbi’s joke. Corky bracedherself. Kimmy pulled herselfup quickly into a standingposition on her shoulders.Corky grabbed her calves tobraceher.

Bobbimovedintopositionto catch Kimmy. “I’m ready

wheneveryouare,”shecalleduptoher.

“Shouldn’tshegoonadietfirst?”Debracracked.

Kimmy glared down ather. “Since when do youmakejokes?”

Debra shrugged. “Ronniemademesayit.”

“Let’s get serious, girls,”Miss Green scolded. “Thisstunt could really bedangerous.”

“CorkyandIhavedoneita million times,” Bobbireassured her, looking up atKimmy.“Ready?”

“I guess,” Kimmy repliedwith a shrug. “Wish I had asafetynet.”

“You can do it!” Jenniferyelled encouragement fromagainstthewall.

“Okay.On three,”Corkysaid.“One,two—”

Bobbi braced herself,spreadingher feet far apart inpreparationforthecatch.Shearched her back. And startedto raise both arms above herhead.

“—three!”Bobbi sucked in a

mouthfulofair.Myarms,shethought. What’s wrong?What’shappeningtome?

I can’t raise my arms,Bobbi thought, frozen in

horror.Ican’tmove.Ican’tmove

anything.She could feel beads of

cold sweat run down herforehead.

Stop! Bobbi thought.You’vegottostopthis!Holdeverything!Please!Juststop!

But to her horror, shecouldn’t speak out. Shecouldn’tmakeasound.

Ican’tmove.Ican’tspeak.

She strained to raise herarms,togetintoposition.

No! Please—no! Bobbicried, only no sound cameout.

Whatishappeningtome?She could see herself

standing there, as if she hadfloatedoutofherownbody.

She could see herselflooking up as Kimmyprepared to dive, looking upwithherarmsstillathersides.

Unable to move them, toraisethem.

UnabletocatchKimmy.Unabletowarnher.No!Please—Kimmy,don’t

dive!Don’tdive!Can’t you see I’m

paralyzedhere?Can’tyouseesomethingis

holdingmehere?Holdingmein its grip? Holding me so Ican’t move a single muscle,cannotevenblink?

Can’tyousee?Corky’s shoulders bobbed

under Kimmy’s weight asKimmy bent her knees andbeganherjump.

No!No!Kimmy—don’t!Kimmy’s eyes narrowed,

her features tight in intentconcentration. Her kneesbent,themusclestightened.

No!Stop!Kimmy—stop!Ican’tcatchyou!

Ican’tevenmovetobreakyourfall.

Kimmy—please!Kimmy took a deep

breath.Heldit.And then she leapt off

Corky’sshoulders.

Chapter15

TheAccusationsFly

Kimmyhitthefloorhard.

She landed first on herkneesandelbows.

Everyoneheardasickeningcrack.Andthenaheavythudas her forehead smashedagainstthefloor.

Her head snapped backand her mouth let out awhoosh, like air escaping ablown-outtire.

And then her eyes closed,andshedidn’tmove.

At first no one reacted.EveryoneseemedasparalyzedasBobbi.

But then Heather’s shrillscream pierced the air,echoing off the high gymceiling.

Several other girls criedout.

Corky dropped to herknees beside Kimmy’sunmovingbodyandstaredupatBobbi.

Her eyes locked onKimmy, Bobbi stumbledback.Onestep.Two.

Sheraisedherhandstohercheeks.

Icanmove,sherealized.Icanmoveagain.I’mmeagain.Jennifer was wheeling her

chair frantically towardKimmy.

Miss Green leaned overKimmy, took her hand,

slappedatit.Kimmygroaned.“She had the wind

knocked out,” Miss Greenannounced. She raised hereyes to the girls huddlingaround the fallencheerleader.“Quick—call for anambulance. Call nine-one-one.”

Megan and Heather, paleandshaken,wentracingfromthegym.

I can move now, Bobbithought. But what happenedtome?

“You didn’t try to catchher!” Debra’s words stungBobbi. Stepping close, Debrapointed an accusing finger.“Youdidn’teventry!”

“No—” Bobbi didn’tknowwhattosay.Shetookastepback, away fromDebra’saccusingfinger.

“You just let her fall!”Ronniecried shrilly.Shehadtears running down hercheeks.

“No!” Bobbi cried. “Itried,but—”

“You didn’t try!” Ronniescreamed. “We sawyou.Weallsawyou!”

“You just stood there!”Debracriedangrily.

“It was deliberate,”Ronnie said. “She did it

deliberately.”Corky, still on her knees

beside Kimmy, stared up ather sister. “What happened?”She mouthed the wordssilently.

“I couldn’t catch her,”Bobbi explained, knowinghowlameherwordssounded.“Myarms—”

Bobbi stopped. It didn’tmake any sense to her. How

couldshemakeitmakesensetothem?

“Youweremadather.Soyou let her fall,” Ronnieaccused.

“How could you?” Debracried.

Kimmystirredandopenedhereyes.

“You had the windknocked out of you,” MissGreensaidsoftly,stillholdingherhand.

Kimmygroaned.Her eyesdartedfromfacetoface.“Myarm,”shegroaned.

“Your arm?” Miss GreenloweredKimmy’shandtothefloor.

“The other one,” Kimmygroaned. “I can’t move it. Ithinkit’s—”

“We heard a crack,”MissGreen said. “Maybe youbrokeit.”

Kimmy tried to raiseherself.

“No.”MissGreen pushedhergentlybackdown.“Don’ttry to get up. There’s anambulanceontheway.”

“Ohhh, it hurts.” Kimmystared up at Bobbi. “You—you did this to me. Onpurpose,”shesaid,hervoiceapainedwhisper.

“No!”Bobbiprotested.

“You just let me fall,”Kimmy accused, wincingfromthepaininherarm.

“Lie back,” Miss Greeninstructedher.“You’regoingto be okay, dear. You’regoing to be just fine. Don’tworry about Bobbi now,okay?” She glanced up atBobbi, and her expressionbecame hard and cold.“BobbiandIwillbehavinga

good, long talk. Bobbi has alotofexplainingtodo.”

“I’m sure it was anaccident,” Corky said,suddenly bursting, into theconversation. “We’ve donethis dive a million times.Really.”

“She tried to hurt her,”Debrainsisted.“Iwatchedherthewholetime.”

“It’s attempted murder!”sheheardRonnietellMegan,

deliberately loud enough forBobbitohear.

“Ronnie—you’re goingtoofar!”MissGreenscolded.

“We saw her!” Ronnieshotbackangrily.

“No!” Bobbi screamed,tugging at the sides of herhair.“No!No!NO!”

She couldn’t take anymoreofthis.

Shecouldn’ttaketheeyes,so many eyes, staring at her

withsomuchhatred.She couldn’t take the

accusing frowns, the pointingfingers.

Shecouldn’ttakethestingoftheirwords.

“No!No!”And without realizing it,

she had turned away fromthem, away from their eyes,away from their hatred. Andnow she was running, hersneakers loudagainstthehard

floor, running blindly, hereyes blurred by hot tears,running with her armsoutstretched, running to thedoubledoors.

And pushing throughthem.Intothecoolnessofthehallway. Out of the heat,away from their eyes, theirunforgivingeyes.

Sheturnedandrantowardthe stairs. Past the white-coated paramedics hurrying

toward the gym, carrying astretcher and black bags ofequipment. Past a surprisedgroupof students gathered inthemiddleofthehall.

Upthestairsandoutofthebuilding,withoutstoppingforher jacket, without stoppingforherbooks.

Out into the cold, grayafternoon. Her sneakerscrunching over dead leaves,hottearsstinginghereyes.

Sheranas fastasherheartwaspounding.

She just wanted to runforever.

But then two handsgrabbed her roughly frombehind.

Bobbi gasped and flailedoutwithbothhands.

“No—don’t!”shecried.

Chapter16

StrangeShadows

“Bobbi—what’swrong?”Chip let go of her

shoulders and backed away,startledbyherwildreaction.

“Oh. Chip. I—” Thewordscaughtinherthroat.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t meantoscareyou,”hesaid,hiseyesstudying her, his expressionalarmed. “I saw you runningand—”

“Chip—ithappenedtometoo!”Bobbiblurtedout,half-talking, half-crying. Shegrabbedthesleeveofhisletterjacket,pressedherfaceagainstit.

“Huh?Where’syourcoat?Aren’tyoucold?”

“It happened to me too,”she repeated, not recognizingher shrill, frightened voice.She straightened up, saw thather tears had run onto hisjacket sleeve. “I—I couldn’tmove.”

“You? Really?” Chipstared at her, as if he didn’tquite knowwhat tomake ofher words, as if he didn’t

understand.Or didn’t believeher. “I’m going to thedoctor’s. For tests. Rightnow,” he said awkwardly. “IwasjusttellingCoachIhadtomisspractice.Hesaid—”

“I couldn’t move,” Bobbirepeated, as if repeating itwouldmakehimbelieveher.“Icouldn’traisemyarms.Justlikeyou,Chip.”

She stared into his eyesimploringly.

“You should get to adoctor too,” he said softly.“Mine thinks it’s some kindof muscle thing. These tests—”

A horn honked loudly,insistently,behindthem.

“Hey—that’s my brother.He’s taking me to thedoctor,”Chipsaid,turningtowave to the driver. “I’ve gottogo.”

“Can I call you later?”Bobbi asked. “I mean, I’vereally got to talk to you.About...whathappened.”

“Yeah. Sure,” he said,jogging to the car. “I’ll behome later.” He stoppedsuddenly and turned back toher.“Youneedalift?”

“No.”Sheshookherhead.“Iwanttowalk.Thanks!”

He climbed into thepassenger seat. The car sped

off.He’s the only one who

will believe me, Bobbithought, watching the caruntilitdisappearedaroundthenextcorner.

He’stheonlyone.It happened to him too.

I’mnotcrackingup.I’mnot.

♦♦♦“I’m not cracking up,” shetoldJennifer.“Ithappenedto

Chiptoo.”Jennifer’s eyes flared for a

brief second when Bobbimentioned Chip’s name. Shewheeled herself back againstthe wall, giving Bobbi roomtopassherandentertheden.

“Thanks for letting mecome over,” Bobbi saidgratefully. She tossed herbackpack onto the floorbeside a couch and started topulloffhercoat.“Myparents

took my little brother to aCubScoutdinner,andCorkyis baby-sitting tonight. I justdidn’twanttobealone.”

“That was so awful thisafternoon,” Jennifer said,speaking slowly, cautiously.“Youmusthavefeltterrible.”Shewheeledherselfbackintothe den, banging into theframeofthenarrowdoorway,backing up, and succeedingonthesecondtry.

Bobbidroppedhercoatontop of her backpack andrubbedthesleevesofherblue,long-sleeved pullover towarmherself.“Yeah.I—Iwas—” She stopped, unable todescribehowshehadfelt.

“So did you talk to Chipaboutit?”Jenniferasked.

“I—I tried to call him.Therewasnoanswer.Nooneathishouse.”

“Would you like sometea?” Jennifer asked softly.“Youlookchilled.”

“No. No, thanks. Maybelater,” Bobbi said. “Do youbelieve me, Jen? Do youbelieve that I didn’tdeliberatelyletKimmyfall?”

“I talked to her mother,”Jennifer replied, avoiding thequestion. “She has a brokenwrist.It’sinacast.Butit’sherlefthand,soitisn’tsobad.”

“Do you believe me?”Bobbi demanded, sitting ontheedgeofthecouch,leaningforward expectantly, herhands clasped nervously infrontofher.

“I really don’t knowwhatto believe,” Jennifer repliedreluctantly.

“It was like someone washolding me down, holdingme in place, smothering me.Myarmswereuseless,”Bobbi

said, explaining for thehundredthtime.“Useless.Mywholebodywasuseless.”

“I knowwhat that’s like,”Jennifer said with suddenbitterness.Shestareddownatherlegs.

“Oh, Jen—I’m sorry!”Bobbi cried, jumping to herfeet, feeling her face growhot. “That was so thoughtlessofme.I—”

Jennifergesturedforhertositbackdown.“You’vehadahard day, Bobbi. A horribleday.”

“DoyouthinkMissGreenwill let me stay on thesquad?” Bobbi asked,dropping back onto thecouch.

Jennifer shrugged. “Doyou want to try to study orsomething? Take your mindoffwhathappened?”

Bobbi sighed. “I don’tknow if I can take my mindoffit.”

“Let’s try,” Jennifer said,tossing her beautiful, wavyhair behind her shoulders.“I’ll make us some tea, andwe’lltry.”

♦♦♦Jennifer tried valiantly, butshecouldn’trouseBobbifromher frightened, unhappy

thoughts. No matter whatthey talked about, Bobbi’smindtrailedbacktothegym,back to her mysterious,terrifying paralysis, back toKimmy’splungetothefloor.

Again and again, Bobbiheard the crack of Kimmy’swrist breaking. Sheheard thethud of Kimmy’s foreheadhitting the floorboards, sawKimmy’s head snap back andhereyesclose.

Again and again, she sawtheaccusingeyesoftheothercheerleaders and heard theiroutragedcries.

A little after eleveno’clock, Bobbi glumly pulledon her jacket, hoisted herbackpack to a shoulder, andheaded for the front door.“Thanks for keeping mecompany,” she told Jennifer,and leaned down to give herfriendahug.

“Any time,” Jenniferrepliedwithayawn.

“Where are your parents?”Bobbiasked.

“Visiting some friends,”Jennifersaidsleepily.“They’llprobablybehomesoon.”

“Well, thanks again,”Bobbi said, pulling open thefrontdoor,feelingthechillofthe night air against her hotface. “See you tomorrow,Jen.”

“Get some sleep” wereJennifer’s parting words. Shewheeledherselftothedoor.

Bobbi closed the doorbehind her. She looked outintoadark,starlessnight.Theair was cold and wet. Fromthe driveway she could see awhitecoveringoffrostonhercar windshield, reflecting offthestreetlight.

Shivering, she made herway down the drive, her

high-tops crunching over thegravel.

Crunch, crunch, shethought. Like the crunch ofbones.

Whenshegotdowntothecar, she rubbed a finger overthefrostonthewindshield.Itwasn’tveryfrozen.Shedidn’tneed to scrape it off. Thewindshieldwiperswouldtakecareofit.

She pulled open the cardoor. Then, before climbingbehindthewheel,sheglancedbackatthehouse.

Andgasped.“Whoa!” she exclaimed

out loud, her breath steamywhite in front of her as shesquinted at the large living-roompicturewindow.

It was the only lightedwindow in the front of thehouse. A window shade had

been pulled down, coveringthe entire window. Thebright living-room lightsmadethe shadebrightorangeandcastshadowsontoit.

Movingshadows.Squinting hard, Bobbi

realized that she was seeingJennifer’s shadow against theshade.

AndJenniferwaswalking.Pacing back and forth in

frontofthewindow.

“Whoa,”Bobbirepeated.Sheblinkedseveraltimes.But when she reopened

her eyes and directed themback to the window, theshadowdidn’t changeor fadeaway.

Jennifer,Bobbi knew,wasthe only one home. AndJennifer was out of herwheelchair. Jennifer waswalking!

“What’sgoingon?”Bobbiaskedoutloud.

I’mdefinitely crackingup,she decided. I’ve got to gethelp.I’mseeingthings.

She took a step up thedriveway.Then another.Hersneakers slid over the wetgravel.

I’mcrazy.Crazy.Crazy.But,no.Asshedrewcloser

tothehouse,thegrayshadowagainst the orange shade

continued to move steadilyback and forth. The imagegrewclearer.Sharper.

It was Jennifer. She waswalking, her hands knotted infrontofher.

What’s going on? Bobbiwondered,hermindwhirringwithwildideas.

Isitamiracle?DidJenniferjust this second discover shecouldwalk?

No. That wasn’t likely.Then...

HasJenniferbeenfakingallalong?

Why?Whywouldshefakeparalysis?

Why?Bobbi stepped back onto

the stoop. She rang thedoorbell.

Shehadtoknow.ShehadtoaskJenniferwhatwasgoingon.

She leaned toward thedoor and listened forJennifer’sfootsteps.

Silence.Sherangthebellagain.Finally the front doorwas

pulled open, revealing awideningrectangleoflight.

“Jennifer!”Bobbicried.

Chapter17

CrackingUp

Standing on the frontstoop, Bobbi stared into theyellow light of the fronthallway. Jennifer held the

dooropen,herfacefilledwithsurprise.

“Bobbi—what’s thematter?”

“Oh . . . uh . . .” Bobbistammered. “Nothing. I . . .thoughtIforgotmygloves.”

Jennifer’s face relaxed.Shesettledbackinherwheelchair.She wheeled herself back afew inches, still gripping thedoorknob. “Do you want tocomeinandlookforthem?”

“No,” Bobbi repliedquickly.“IjustrememberedIdidn’t bring any gloves.Sorry.”

Jennifer laughed. “You’rereally in a state, aren’t you?”“Yeah. I guess.” Bobbi felttotally embarrassed. Andconfused.

Andworried.Jennifer was in her

wheelchair, a small blanketoverherlap.WhyhadBobbi

imagined that she’d seen herpacing back and forth acrossthewindow?

HadBobbiimagineditall,imaginedthemovingshadow,imagined the dark figurewalking across the livingroom?

What’s wrong with me?Bobbi asked herself, sayinggood night to Jennifer againand trudging back down thegraveldriveway.

Herbreathroseinpuffsofwhite steam against the coldnightair.

But Bobbi didn’t feel thecold.

In fact, she felt hot.Feverish. Her foreheadthrobbed, a sharp pain justbehindhereyes.

WhyamIseeingthings?AmIseeingthings?Am I cracking up? Really

crackingup?

The headlights seemed toskip and dance as she drovethrough the silent darknessback to her house on FearStreet. The house was darkexcept for the porch light.She realized everyone musthavegonetobed.

Tossingherjacketontothebanister,shehurrieduptoherbedroom and, withoutturning on the light, shookCorkyawake.

“Huh?” Corky cried out,frightened,andsatupstiffly.

“It’s me,” Bobbiwhispered.“Wakeup.”

“Youscaredmetodeath!”Corky cried angrily. Sheneverlikedtobeawakened.

Bobbi clicked on thebedside lamp. “I saw Jenniferwalk!”sheblurtedout.

Corkyyawned.“Huh?”“I think I saw Jennifer

walk.I’mnotsure,but—”

“What time is it?” Corkyasked crankily. “You musthavebeendreaming.”

“No. I wasn’t asleep,”Bobbi insisted. “I wasstanding outside her house. Isawshadows.”

Corky stretched, turned,and lowered her feet to thefloor.Shebrushedastrandofblondhairfromoverhereyes.“Yousawshadows?”Herfacefilled with concern. “Bobbi,

I’m really worried aboutyou.”

“No! Really! I saw her,”Bobbi said, not realizing thatshewas almost shouting. Shestood over her sister, herhandsknottedtenselyinfrontof her, feeling hot andtrembly, the pain still pulsingbehindhereyes.

“Maybe we should tellMom andDad,”Corky said,glancingat thebedsideclock.

“I mean, just stop and thinkforaminute,Bobbi.Firstyoutold me you saw all thelockers at school open andclosewhenyouwalkeddownthe hall. Then you told meyouwereparalyzedatpracticethis afternoon. You couldn’tmove. You couldn’t evenspeak.Andthat’swhyyouletKimmyfall.”

“But,Corky—”

“Let me finish,” Corkysaid sharply, holding up ahand as if to fend Bobbi off.“Then there was that weirdstory aboutChip, about howhe froze, too, and couldn’tmove. And now you comehomefromJennifer’sand—”

“Butit’strue!”Bobbicried.“It’s all true. I mean, I thinkit’s true. I think—I—Don’tyoubelieveme,Corky?”

Corky was holding herhands over her ears. “Stopshouting. You’re screamingrightinmyface.”

“Sorry.I—”“Let’sgotelleverythingto

Mom and Dad,” Corkyurged. “I really think youhavetogotalktoadoctororsomething. I think you needhelp,Bobbi.Ireallydo.”

“You don’t believe me,”Bobbi accused heatedly,

bitterly, her head throbbing.“Youdon’tbelieveme.”

Withoutthinkingaboutit,shepickedupCorky’spillowandheaveditatherangrily.

“Hey—” Corky cried,grabbing the pillow andtossingitbackinitsplace.

“Just don’t talk to me!”Bobbisnapped.“Traitor!”

“Oh, fine!” Corkyscreamed. “That’s just fine

with me! You’re crazy,Bobbi!Crazy!”

Bobbistormedovertothecloset.“Shutup!Justshutup!Don’ttalktome!Everagain!”She began to tear off herclothes, tossing them on thecloset floor, muttering toherself.

Corkypunchedherpillow,fluffed it,andslidbackunderthe covers, turning her backonhersister.

She’s gone totally crazy,she told herself. She’s just soweird!

Imagine—calling me atraitor because I think sheshould talk to someone andgethelp.

Me,atraitor.And now she’s gotten me

so upset, I’ll probably be upallnight.

Ihateher.Ireallyhateher,Corky thought darkly,

struggling to get comfortable.Shejustmakesmesomad.

♦♦♦Corkymighthavebeenmoresympathetic. She might havebeen more understanding.Morecaring.Morebelieving.

ButCorkyhadnowayofknowingthatthiswasthelastnight she would ever spendwithhersister.

PARTTHREE

TheEvil

Chapter18

InHotWater

“Okay, everyone—someaerobicstowarmup!”

Bobbi trottedenthusiastically onto the gym

floor, clapping her hands,trying to get the girls up fortheirafter-schoolpractice.

But they lingered againstthe wall, clustered in pairs,talkingquietly.

“Come on, everyone—lineup!Let’swarmup!”

Bobbi’s eyes wanderedfrom girl to girl. Where’sCorky? she wondered, andthen remembered thatCorkyhadtostaylateinMr.Grant’s

science lab. She saw Jenniferwheel herself in,concentrating as shemaneuvered her wheelchairthrough the double doors.Jennifer saw Bobbi andsmiled, giving her a littlewave.

“Lineup!”Bobbiinsisted.“Where’s Miss Green?”

Kimmy asked, steppingforward slowly, holding her

wristwiththewhitecastonitawkwardly.

“I don’t know,” Bobbitold her. “Are you going towarm up with us? Or doesyourwrist—”

“Mywristisnoconcernofyours,”Kimmysnapped.“I’mnotquittingthesquadbecauseof it, if that’s what youmean.” Her eyes burnedangrilyintoBobbi’s.

“Let’swarmup!Comeon,everyone!” Bobbi called out,ignoringKimmy’sanger.

Slowly the girls movedaway from the wall andformed a line in front ofBobbi. Bobbi started up thetapeplayer.Theybegan theiraerobic exercises, the sameroutine they had followedsinceschoolbegan.

But they performedhalfheartedly, grudgingly,

withoutenthusiasm.“Comeon—let’sworkup

a sweat!” Bobbi cried,workingdoublyhard, as if tomake up for their feebleeffort. But the girls ignoredher. Debra and Ronnie, shesaw, were carrying on aconversation while goingthroughthemotions.

Bobbi glanced toward thewall. Jennifer gave her athumbs-up,butitdidn’tcheer

her.Thegirls,sheknew,weredeliberatelynotcooperating.

She stopped the music.“Let’sworkonSteamHeat,”she suggested. “Ronnie, doyouwanttotaketheendthistime?”

“Huh?”“Doyouwant to take the

end?Youcanleadit.”“I don’t know.” Ronnie

shrugged. “Whatever.” She

turned back to herconversationwithDebra.

Without Corky, I don’thave anyone on my side,Bobbi realized, suddenlyovercomebyapowerfulwaveofdepression.OnlyJennifer,Iguess. But even she doesn’twant to speak up for me infront of the girls—not afterwhathappenedtoKimmy.

“Okay, line up for SteamHeat,” Bobbi called out,

struggling to keepup a showofenthusiasm.

“IthinkweshouldwaitforMiss Green,” Kimmy saiddefiantly.

“Yeah. Let’s wait,” Debraaddedquickly.

“No reason to wait,”Bobbi said unsteadily. Sheglanced up at the scoreboardclock. Three forty-five. “Weknowwhatwehave toworkon,don’twe?”

“I still think we shouldwait,”Kimmy said, adefinitechallenge to Bobbi’sauthority.

“Yeah. Wait,” Debramutterednastily.HeatherandMegan nodded in sullenagreement.

It’s a mutiny, Bobbirealized,suddenlydizzy.

“Line up!” she insisted,glancing at Jennifer, whosesmile had faded. She was

watching the proceedingswith a look of concern.“Kimmy, if you havesomething to say to me—”Bobbistarted.

“I think Miss Green hassomething to say to you,”Kimmy replied smugly.Besideher,Ronnie snickeredoutloud.

The double doors swungopen, and Miss Greenentered, taking long, rapid

strides, carrying a bulgingbriefcase.“SorryI’mlate,”shecalled out, heading to herofficeinthecorner.

Seeing them on the floor,Bobbi by herself in front ofthe sullen-looking group,MissGreenstopped.“You’vestarted?”

“Not exactly,” Kimmytold her, shooting Bobbi ameaningfulglance.

“No one seems to be inthe mood to work today,”Bobbireportedreluctantly.

Miss Green shifted theheavy briefcase to her otherhand. “Bobbi—could I seeyou in my office for aminute?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bobbireplied, dread building in thepitofherstomach,herthroattightening.

“Everyone—let’s cancelpractice for today, okay?”MissGreen said, her eyes onKimmy.

Uh-oh, Bobbi thought.She could feel the bloodpulsingathertemples.

“We’ll regroup tomorrowafternoon,”MissGreensaid.

Talking quietly amongthemselves, the cheerleadersobediently moved off thefloor and began to collect

their belongings. Bobbirealized that allof themwereavoiding looking at her. Shecaught a smug grin onKimmy’s face, but Kimmyquickly turned her head andwalked awaywithDebra andRonnie.

They all know what MissGreen is going to say tome,Bobbirealized.

AndIknowtoo.

As the gym quicklyemptied out, Bobbi followedMissGreen toheroffice,herheart pounding, her legssuddenly feeling as if theyweighedathousandpounds.

Miss Green dropped thebriefcase onto her desk. Shesifted through a few pinkphone-message sheets, thenlooked up at Bobbi. “Healthforms,” she said, patting thebriefcase.“Theyweighaton.

You’vegottobestrongtobeinthephys.ed.department.”

Bobbi stood awkwardly infront of the desk, nervouslytoying with a strand of herhair. When Miss Greenmotioned her toward a seat,Bobbi obediently loweredherself into it, folding herhandsinherlap.

She realized she wasperspiring.Itwassohotinthegym, and she had been the

only one to really workduringtheaerobicswarm-ups.

“Bobbi, I’m really sorry,”Miss Green said abruptly,setting down the pinkmessage sheets and leaningwith both hands on thedesktop.“Ihavetoaskyoutostepdownfromthesquad.”

“Oh!” Bobbi uttered ashortcry.

She had anticipated thosevery words. But somehow

they had come as a surpriseanyway.

“I really don’t—” shestarted.

MissGreenheldupahandto silence her. “I don’t wantto discuss what happenedyesterday. I know youwouldn’t deliberately try toinjure one of the girls. Butwhat happened, happened.Whether it was a loss of

concentrationorwhatever. Ithappened.”

She sat down, leaningforwardoverthedesk,playingwithanopalringonherrighthand.“You’reaverytalentedcheerleader, Bobbi,” shecontinued. “You and yoursister. I like you both. Butafter yesterday, I’m afraid—well, I’m afraid you’ve losttheconfidenceofthesquad.”

“Confidence?” Bobbimanaged to utter in a tight,choked voice. She suddenlyrealized she was breathinghard. Drops of perspirationwere sliding down herforehead, but she made noattempttowipethemaway.

“A squad is built on trust.And the girls just don’t feelthey can trust you,” MissGreen said, lowering hervoice, her face expressionless.

“They’ve made it very clearto me. Whether it’s true ornot, they believe that youdeliberately didn’t catchKimmy yesterday.” Shecleared her throat noisily,coveringhermouthwithonehand. “I’m really sorry,Bobbi. I have no choice. Ihavetoaskyoutoquit.”

Bobbi lowered her head,struggling to stop her bodyfrom shaking, struggling to

hold back her tears. “Iunderstand,” she managed towhisper.

“If you’d like to talk tosomeone,” Miss Greenoffered,her eyes sympathetic,“a doctor, I mean. If you’dlike me to recommendsomeone you could . . .confidein—”

Bobbirosetoherfeet.Shehad to get out of there, sherealized.Shefelthotandcold

and shaky and sick. “No,thanks. I’ll just leave now,”she said, turning to thedoor,avoidingMissGreen’sstare.

“I know how you mustfeel,” Miss Green said,standing too. “If there’sanythingIcando...”

A few seconds laterBobbifound herself in the lockerroom. Alone. Her footstepsechoing on the damp

concrete floor. She chokedbackasob.

I’m wringing wet.Wringingwet.

I’ll take a shower, shedecided. Change into streetclothes.

That’ll make me feelbetter.

She thought she heard ascraping sound from anotherrow of lockers. “Anybody

here?”shecalledinaquiveryvoice.

Noreply.“Now I’m hearing things

too,”shesaidoutloud.Oh, well, she thought,

pullinghersweatshirtoverherhead, at least now I’ll havemoretimetostudy.

Withthatthought,thesobshe’dbeenholdingbackburstout.

How could this happen tome?Howcouldthishappen?

AmIreallygoingcrazy?Leavingherclothesonthe

bench, she pulled a towelfrom her locker and paddedover the damp floor towardthe shower room. A warmshower would be soothing,she decided. She’d make itnice and hot. It would stopthe trembling, stop the chillsdownherback.

Sheturnedat theentranceto the showers, thinking sheheard someone again. Shelistened.Again,silence.

She stepped into the largeshower roomwith its stainedtile walls, its row of chromeshower heads. The floor waspuddledwith coldwater, leftover from last-period gymclass.

Bobbishivered.I’msocold.Socold.

As she reached up to turnon the water, metal doorsnearby slammed shut with aclang.

“Huh?”At first Bobbi wasn’t sure

what had happened. Shejumped, startled by the loud,unexpected noise. Maybesomeone had entered thedressing area outside, shedecided.

But then she saw that theshower roomdoorshadbeenclosed.

That’sweird, she thought.Sheturnedonthewater.

And screamed as scaldingwaterburstoutoftheshowerheadwitha roar, strikingherchest,hershoulders.

“Ow!”Shedodgedaway.But the

next shower head was

sprayingdownhotwater,too,scaldinghot,burninghot.

“Help!”All the showers were

turned on now. Scalding hotwater shooting out of all ofthem.

Something’swrong,Bobbirealized, stumbling back in apanic, her chest burning, herlegs burning. Something’sterriblywrong.

“Ow!”

She slipped and toppledbackward, landing with asplashinasteamingpuddle.

“Help!”Scramblingtoherfeet,she

saw that the hot water wasrising rapidly. The drainappearedtobeclogged.

“Ow!”The water was nearly an

inchdeepalready,andsohot,itburnedherfeet.

The steam rose like athick,chokingcurtain.

Gasping in the hot, wetair, Bobbi lunged for thedoors. She tugged on thehandles. “Hey—” Theywouldn’tmove.

“Hey—”Shestruggledtopushopen

the doors. But they werestuck.Orblocked.Orlocked.

“Hey—!”

The steam was thick. Shefelt as if her lungs wereburning, filling up. It was sohardtobreathe.

Crying out from the painof the scalding water, shehopped back to the wall ofshowerheads,reachedforthefirst control knob, turned it,turned,turned....

To her horror the waterdidn’t slow. Didn’t growcolder.

Frantically she turnedanother knob. Another.Another.

“Ow!”Shecouldn’tshutthemoff.“I can’t breathe!” The

steamwassothick,sohot.“Ican’tsee!”

She slipped, stumblingbacktothedoubledoors.

“Help me!” She chokedout a desperate cry.“Somebody—help!”

Thewaterwasupoverherankles. Why wouldn’t itdrain? She danced wildly, adanceofunbearablepain.

“Help me! I can’t—breathe!”

The rushofwater becamearoar.

She closed her eyes andcoveredherears.

Theroardidn’tgoaway.Thepaindidn’tgoaway.Theroargrewlouder.

Thenallwassilence.

Chapter19

WhatCorkyFound

Where’d everyone go?Corkywondered.

She stepped into the gym,shifting her backpack to herother shoulder. “Anyonehere?” she called, her voiceechoing against the highceiling.

Her sneakers squeaked onthe shiny, polished floor. Sheglanced up at the scoreboardclock.Notevenfour-thirty.

Practiceusuallylasteduntilfive,sheknew.

Sowherewaseveryone?

Had they moved thepracticeoutdoors? Sometimestheydid thatonnicedays. Itwas good to practice in thestadium, get some fresh air,get out of the gym, whichwasusuallystiflinghot.

But it was gray andblustery outside today, not adayforanoutdoorpractice.

Her footsteps echoed asshe made her way to Miss

Green’s office and peered inthroughthebigglasswindow.

Empty. The papers allneatly stacked on one cornerofthedesk.Thechairpushedin.

Iguesspracticeendedearlyfor some reason, Corkythought,shakingherhead.

Well,Bobbimustbeglad.She wasn’t in any mood tofacethegirlsanyway.

Bobbi. Iwanted to talk toher, to make up, Corkythought.

Shepushedopen thedoorto the locker roomand stuckher head inside. “Bobbi?Anyone?”

The locker room seemedemptytoo.

Shewasabouttoclosethedoor when she heard thesoundofrushingwater.

Someone’s taking ashower,shedecided.

Shemadeherwayintothelocker room, warmer andsteamier than usual. Througharowoflockers.

She spotted someone’sclothestossedontooneofthelongbenchesthatstretchedinfront of the lockers. On theother side of the lockers, shecouldheartherushofshowerwater going full force. She

picked up the sweatshirt,recognizeditasBobbi’s.

So Bobbi was taking ashower.

Byherself?Where were the other

girls?This didn’t make any

sense.Corky took a step toward

the shower room, thenstopped. She had spottedsomethingonthefloorunder

Bobbi’s things. Somethingshiny.

Shebentdownandpickedit up, bringing it up close toher face toexamine it. ItwasKimmy’s silver pendant, theshinylittlemegaphone.

It must have fallen offagain, Corky decided. Sherolled it into a tissue andstuffed it into the pocket ofherjeans.

I’ll have to remember toreturnittoher.

She walked past thelockers, turned toward theshowerroom,thenstoppedinsurprise. The shower doorswereclosed.

Weird,shethought.The shower doors were

never closed. She didn’t evenknowtheycouldclose.

AsCorkydrewnearer,therush of water on the other

sideof thedoorgrewlouder.Could one shower make allthatnoise?shewondered.

Sheknockedon themetaldoor.“Hey—Bobbi!”

Noreply.“Bobbi?” She pounded

harder.Shecan’thearmeoverthe

water,Corkydecided.Sheputahandoneachof

the two door handles andpulled.

The doors swung openeasily.

“Hey—!” Corky shriekedas a tidal wave of hot watercame spewing out at her.“Whoa!”

Startled,shestaggeredbackuntilshebumpedintothesideof a locker. The hot waterrolled over her sneakers,washed up onto the legs ofherjeans.

‘Ow! Hey—” It wasboilinghot.

Shelookeduptoseethick,white steam floating into thelockerroom,likeafogrollingoverabeach.

What’s going on? shewondered, more angry thanfrightened. Who closed thedoors?

WhereisBobbi?The steaming hot water

flooded through the locker

room,butitsoundedasifthewater had been shut off.Walking on tiptoe, Corkymade her way back to theshowerroom.

Holdingontothetilewall,she peered inside, squintingagainsttheswirlingsteam.

AndsawBobbi.Lyingfacedownagainstthe

wallundertheshowerheads.“Bobbi—?”

Through gaps in theparting fog, her body slowlybecamevisible.

Her arms were crumpledbeneath her. Her legs werefolded. Her hair was soakedandmattedoverherheadandontothefloor.

Herback,herlegs,herskin—her entire bodywas as redasalobster.

“Bobbi—?”

Gripped with fear, Corkyplunged into the room,dropped to her knees in thescaldingwater.

“Bobbi—?”With a loud gasp, she

reacheddown andpulledhersister’sheadupbythehair.

“Bobbi—? Bobbi—?Please?”

Bobbi stared back at herwithvacant,wide-eyedterror,herfleshswollenandred,her

mouthlockedopeninasilentscream.

“Bobbi—?”No.Noanswer.The heavy steam settled

over Corky, making hershiver.

Holding her sister tightlyinherarms,CorkyknewthatBobbi would never answerheragain.

Chapter20

CorkyFiguresItOut

Apearlyfullmoonseemedtohoverover theFearStreet

cemetery,castingpale,ghostlylight over the jaggedtombstones. Trees whisperedandshooktheirnearly leaflessbranches in the cold, gustingwind.

Corky slipped on wetleaves,andshenearly lostherbalance. A light rain had justended, leaving the weed-choked ground between thegravessoftandmuddy.

Like quicksand, shethought. She had a suddenpicture of sinking into theground, of being pulleddown, down, until only herhead poked out. And then ittoowouldbesuckedintothemudtojointhecorpses.

Something slitheredthrough the clump of deadleaves near her feet. Asquirrel?Amouse?

Even inagraveyard, therearelivingthings,shethought.Sheshiveredanddugherbarehands deeper into her coatpockets.

The wind died down asshe made her way along thepath through the old sectionofgraves.Bobbiwasburiedina new section up a little hill,away from the street. Corkyknewthewaywell.

The old tombstones,poking up from the groundlike rotting teeth, cast longshadows on the ground atCorky’s feet. At the end ofthe first row, she stopped.Whydidthestoneontheendlookfamiliar?

Creeping closer, her bootssinking into themud, Corkyread the inscription: SARAHFEAR.1875-1899.

“Sarah Fear,” Corky saidaloud, staring at the carvedname. She suddenlyremembered. This was thegrave that Jennifer had beenfound sprawled on, on thathorrible night she had beenthrownfromthebus.

“SarahFear.”Andwhatwere these four

stones behind Sarah Fear’sgrave?

Moving closer, Corkyleaneddown to read the lowstones. The names had beenworn off over the years. Butthe dates were clearlyreadable.Theyhadalldiedinthesameyear:1899.

Four grave markers withthe sameyear thatSarahFearhaddied.

What had happened?Corky wondered. Had Sarah

Fear’s entire family beenwipedoutatonce?

Peoplediedsoyoungbackthen, Corky thought,climbing back to her feet.Sarah Fear would have beenonlytwenty-four.

Without realizing it, sheutteredaloudsob.

Bobbiwasonlyseventeen.Handsshovedinherjacket

pockets, Corky turned awayfromtheoldgravesandmade

her way along the familiarpathuptothenewsection.

Thewindpickedupagain,coldandwet.Shecouldheara dog howling mournfullysomewhere down the block.The trees shivered theirwintry limbs. Dead leavesscatteredasiftryingtoflee.

“Here I amagain,”Corkysaid,placingahandontopofher sister’s temporarymarker.

“You’re probably gettingtiredofseeingme.”

How many times hadCorkyvisitedhersister’sgravesince the funeral two weeksbefore?Nearlyeveryday?

“Ijustmissyousomuch,”Corkywhispered,holdingontothecoldmarker,feelingthetearswellupinhereyes.

She thought about thefuneral, saw it all again. Theflowers,sobrightandcolorful

andoutofplaceonthatgray,mournful day. Her parents,holdinghands, leaningagainsteach other, hiding their facessooutsiderscouldn’t see theirpain.

Again, Corky saw thecheerleaders, huddledtogether, silent and pale.Jennifer stayed by herself inthe wheelchair, a woolblanket over her legs, tearstricklingdownhercheeks.

Chip had been there too,looking awkward anduncomfortable. He had beennice to Corky, tried to saysomething comforting, butended up stammering abouthow sorry he was andhurryingoff.

And Kimmy. Kimmy hadbeen there too. Standing alittle way off from the othercheerleaders,herarmscrossedtightly in front of her, her

expression grim, unchanging,hereyesonChip.

A cold drizzle had begunto fall when they loweredBobbi’s coffin into theground. Corky felt hermother’s arms go around herand Sean. They were allweeping, she realized, theirtears dropping into the opengrave.

Corky had looked upthrough tear-clouded eyes to

seeKimmy again, still staringat Chip. And then, as thedrizzle turned to a hard,steady rain, people started toleave, pushing up their coatcollars, ducking under blackumbrellas.

Jennifer’s father appearedand wheeled her away. Chiphad hurried off, taking long,awkward strides over themud. Kimmy left with theothercheerleaders,theirheads

lowered, bent against thewindandrain.

Corkyandherfamilywereleftalone.

WithoutBobbi.WithoutBobbiforever.Andnowitwastwoweeks

later, andCorky still couldn’tget used to the idea that shenolongerhadhersistertotalkto.

“I’m back again,” Corkysaid, turning her eyes up to

the full moon. “I know youcanhearme,Bobbi.I—Ijustwishyoucouldanswer.”

Her next words caught inher throat.She stopped, tooka deep breath, taking in thesweet,coldair.

“I just wanted to tell youthenews,”shecontinuedaftera long pause. “They madeKimmy captain of thecheerleaders. You probablyguessed that would happen,

right? Well, everyone seemsrealhappyaboutit.EspeciallyKimmy.Thenewssuremadeher wrist get better in ahurry.”

Corky sighed. She rubbedher palm against the coldmarker.

“Everyone turned to lookatmewhenMissGreenmadethe announcement,” Corkycontinued. “As if I wouldthrow a fit or storm out or

something.” And then sheaddedbitterly,“AsifIwouldcare.”

Shekickedawayaleafthathad blown onto a leg of herjeans. “I don’t care anymore,Bobbi.Ireallydon’t,”shesaidwith growing emotion. “Idon’tknowwhatIcareaboutnow. I just wish you werehere. So that I couldapologize for being mean toyou thenightbefore . . . the

night before you died. I justwish you were here so youcould tell me whathappened.”

Corky sobbed. “Whathappened in that showerroom?Why didn’t you openthedoor and comeout?Thepolicesayyouhadsomekindofseizureanddiedinstantly.Iwasgladyoudidn’tsuffer,butI just can’t understand it.Why? How did it happen?

You weren’t sick. You werein great shape. Whathappened, Bobbi? Whathappened?”

Then she was crying, bigtearsrollingdownhercheeks,her nose running, the soundofherowncriespushedbackatherbyarushofcoldwind.

“I’msorry.I’msorry,”sheapologized to the silent,unanswering gravestone. “Ikeep coming here day after

day, saying the same things.It’sjust—just—”

Corky shoved her handinto her jeans pocket,searchingforatissue.Diggingdeep, she found one, balled-up.Shepulleditout.

And saw something shinyfallout.

She bent down andsearched the wet ground ather feet until she found it.Thenshestoodtoexamineit.

Kimmy’s megaphonependant.

Shehad found it thatday.On the locker-room floor.NearBobbi’sclothes.

Onthathorribleday.Shehad tucked it intoher

jeans pocket, forgotten allaboutit.

As she stared at it,watchingitgleaminthecold,white moonlight, Corkyrealizedthatherewasaclue.

Here in her tremblinghand.

Kimmy had been there.Kimmy had been in thelocker room. Had been nearBobbi’sthings.

“Oh, no,” Corky saidaloud, squeezing the pendanttightinherfist.“Oh,no.Oh,no.”

Did Kimmy havesomethingtodowithBobbi’s

death? No one had moremotive,Corkyrealized.

No one resented BobbimorethanKimmy.

In fact, it wasn’t justresentment.Itwashatred.

Openhatred.Kimmy hated Bobbi

because she was cheerleadercaptain. Because Chip haddropped Kimmy and askedBobbi out. Because Bobbi

was pretty and blond andtalented,andKimmywasn’t.

Becauseofeverything.“Yes, Kimmy was there,”

Corky said aloud. “Kimmywas there when Bobbi died,and I have the proof in myhand.”

And then, withoutrealizing it, she was running,running between the rows ofgraves, her boots sliding andslippinginthemud.Withthe

pendant wrapped tightly inher fist, she was runningdowntothestreet.

And then she was homeand in the car, starting it up,theengineroaringto life, theheadlightscuttingthroughthedarknightair.

Ihavetheproof.Ihavetheproof.

And she squealed awayfromherhouse,followingthecurve of Fear Street, past the

dark, old houses, past thetrembling, nearly bare trees,and turned toward Kimmy’shouse.

A few minutes later, herheart pounding, the pendantstillclutchedtightlyinherfist,shewasstaringupatthelarge,white-shingled house, thewindows all lit up, a silverVolvoparkedinthedrive.

Kimmy’s mother openedthe door, surprised to see

Corky there so late,unannounced. Corky rushedpast her without anyexplanation, tore through thefront hallway, swallowinghard,gaspingforair,andburstintotheden.

Kimmy was there withDebraandRonnie.

“Hey—” she called out asCorkyentered.

“Here,” Corky screamedaccusingly, unwrapped her

fist, and thrust the silvermegaphone pendant intoKimmy’sface.

Kimmy started, and hereyesgrewwidewithsurprise.

Chapter21

Kimmy’sSurprise

“It’s my proof!” Corkycried.

Ronnie jumped to herfeet.DebrastaredupatCorky

fromthefloor,anotebookinherlap.

“My proof!” Corkyrepeated,holdingthependantin front of Kimmy’s startledface.

“Where’d you get it?”Kimmy asked, locking hereyesontoCorky’s.

“You left it somewhere,”Corky said, shaking all overfromheranger.

“Huh?”

“You left it somewhere,and now it’s my proof!”Corkyexclaimed.

“Corky—are you okay?”Ronnie asked, moving overto her and putting a handgently on her tremblingshoulder.

“You’d better sit down,”Debra said, closing hernotebook. “You don’t lookverywell.”

Corky pulled away fromRonnie’s hand. “You werethere. You were there whenBobbi died,” she snarled,staringaccusinglyatKimmy.

Kimmy’s mouth droppedopen,butshedidn’treply.

“Here’smyproof,”Corkysaid, waving the pendant inKimmy’sface.

“ListentoDebra,”Kimmysaid finally. “Sit down.” Shepointed to the couch.

“You’re not making anysense,Corky.”

“I foundthis in the lockerroom,” Corky said, ignoringKimmy’swords.“OnthedayBobbidied.I founditonthefloor.Ifoundit.”

“Corky—please!” Kimmyinsisted. “Sit down. Let meget you something hot todrink. You’re shaking like aleaf!”

“Don’t change thesubject!” Corky screamed,realizing she was out ofcontrol,notcaring,notcaringat all. “I have the proof,Kimmy. I have the proof! Ifound your pendant underBobbi’sthings.”

Kimmy’s expressionchanged from surprise toconcern. “Corky,” she saidsoftly, “that pendant isn’tmine.”

Chapter22

Jennifer’sSurprise

“Huh?”

Corky took a step back,her expression one ofsuspicionanddisbelief.

“It isn’t mine anymore,”Kimmy said, her eyes on thependant.

“But—but—”“I gave it to Jennifer,”

Kimmysaid.“She’s telling the truth,”

Debra said quickly. Holdinghernotebook, sheclimbedtoherfeetandsteppedupbeside

Kimmy, as if taking sides.Ronnie had moved back tothe window and was leaningagainst the ledge, a troubledlookonherface.

“Jennifer?” Corky askedweakly, suddenly feeling as ifshewere falling, fallingdownadark,endlesshole.

“I gave it to Jennifer.Aboutamonthago,”Kimmysaid, restingherhandsonherhips. “She was always telling

mehowmuchshelikedit.Sooneday I sawher in thehallbefore school,andI justgaveittoher.”

“No,” Corky insisted.“Youalwaysworeit—”

“She’s telling the truth,”Debra insisted. “I was therewhen Kimmy gave it toJennifer. Jennifer was reallyhappy.”

“Iwastiredofitanyway,”Kimmy said with a shrug.

“The clasp was loose. It wasalwaysfallingoff.”

Corky stared hard intoKimmy’seyes.Shewastellingthetruth,Corkyrealized.

Butthatmeant...“You hated my sister!”

Corky declared, unwilling toletKimmyoffthehook.

Kimmy shook her head.She turned her eyes to thewindow. “I didn’t like hervery much, Corky. But I

didn’t hate her. I guess Iresented her a lot. I guess Iwasalittlejealousofher.”

“Alittle?”Corkycried.“Okay, okay. A lot,”

Kimmy admitted. “But I’mnot a murderer! I wouldn’tkill someone because ofcheerleading!”

“Jennifer—” Corkystammered.

“Jennifer isn’t a killereither,” Kimmy said softly.

She shook her head. “Youknow that, Corky. PoorJennifer—”

“But the pendant—”Corkysaid,staringdownatitinherhand.

“Jennifer must havedropped it,” Kimmy replied.“Just like I always did. I toldyou,theclaspwasloose.”

Corky’s mind whirredcrazily from thought tothought. She stared at the

pendantasifhypnotizedbyit.Theroomstartedtotilt,thenspin.Onceagain she feltas ifshewere falling, fallingdownabottomless,darkpit.

“Corky—!” Kimmygrabbedherarm.

“Jennifer couldn’t changeher clothes in the lockerroom,” Corky said, closingher eyes, trying to make theroomstop spinning, trying tomake the falling sensation

stop.“Jenniferalwayschangedat home. Shewouldn’t go inthelockerroom.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Kimmyagreed.“But,Corky—”

“Why would Jennifer goin the locker room? Why?What was she doing there?”Corkyscreamed.

“Corky—stop!You’re notthinking clearly!” Kimmycried.

“Sit down,” Ronnie saidfrom across the room.“Somebody make her sitdown.”

“Maybeweshouldcallherparents,” Debra said at thesametime.

“No!” Corky screamed,pullingoutofKimmy’sgrasp.“No! I have to talk toJennifer! I have to! I have toknowthetruth!”

“Corky—please—let uscall your parents,” Kimmypleaded.

ButCorkyhadalreadyrunout of the den and wasmaking her way down thefronthallway.The three girlscalled to her, begging her tocomeback.

“What on earth is goingon?” Kimmy’s mom cried,poking her head out of thelivingroom.

Corky flew past her—andoutintothedark,coolnight.

“Corky—come back!Comeback!”

“Comebackandtalk!”She ignored their pleas,

their frantic, high-pitchedshouts.

The car started quickly.The lights shot on. And sheheaded the car towardJennifer’s house in NorthHills.

Past houses darkened forthe night. Past empty yardsand woods filled with silent,bending trees. Past ShadysideHigh, dark except for thespotlightoutfront,throwingashimmering cone of lightontothefrontdoors.

Jennifer’s house was on aside street just north of theschool. As Corky turned thecorner, her headlights sweptover the low ranch-style

house. She braked hard,slowing the car down thestreet from the house, andstaredacrossthesmoothlawn.

Dark.All the windows were

dark, the shades drawn,curtainspulled.

Corky glanced at thedashboard clock. Eleveno’clock.

“Guess they all go to bedearly,”shesaidoutloud.

And then she saw theheadlights of a car parked atthecurb in frontof Jennifer’shouseflashon.

ItwasaredSkylark,Corkysaw.

Thecarpulledslowlyawayfromthecurbandedgedintothe driveway to turn around.The interior lights came onfor a second, and the girl inthecarwasilluminated.

It’s Jennifer! Corky saw,hermouthdroppingopen.

I didn’t know she coulddrive.

I didn’t think she couldmoveherlegsenoughtopushthepedals.

She watched her pull thecarhalfwayupthedrive,thenback up into the street, thenpulloffintheotherdirection.

Jennifer’s headlights filledCorky’s car with blinding

white light. She’s comingright at me, Corky thought.She’llseeme.

Corky ducked her head,covered her face with thesleeveofhercoat.

Jennifer didn’t seem tonoticeher.TheSkylarkrolledslowlypast,thenturnedright,headingtowardtheschool.

Where could Jennifer begoing by herself at eleven

o’clock at night? Corkywondered.

Decidingtofollowher,sheeased the car into Jennifer’sdriveway and turned aroundjust as Jennifer had done.Then she floored the gaspedal and shot around thecorner,eagertocatchup.

Racing down Park Drive,Corky quickly saw that theircarsweretheonlytwoontheroad. She slowed down,

deciding to keep at least ablock between her car andJennifer’s.

Where is she going?Where?

Thequestionrepeatedandrepeatedinhermind.

The full moon floated atthetopofthewindshield,asifleading the way. A raccoonscooted into the road,hesitated in Corky’sheadlights, then just made it

safely to the other side asCorkyrolledby.

As she followed a blockbehind the red Skylark,Corky’s thoughts went backto her emotional encounterwith Kimmy. Kimmyappeared to be telling thetruthaboutthesilverpendant.And she truly seemed to beconcernedaboutCorky.

Whatdidthatmean?

Was Jennifer in the lockerroom the afternoon Bobbiwaskilled?

Bobbi and Jennifer hadbecome best friends. Therewasno reason to suspect thatJennifer might have killedBobbi.Noreasonatall.

So what was she doingtherethatafternoon?

And what was she doingnow?

Corky followed theSkylarkas it turnedontoOldMill Road. As an oncomingcarshotitsheadlightsforward,Corky could see Jennifer’sshadow reflectedon thebackwindowofthelittlecar.

She’s heading for FearStreet!Corkyrealized.

Butwhy?Is she going tomyhouse?

Anunexpectedvisit?

No. Jennifer isn’t myfriend. She was Bobbi’sfriend.

Bobbi’s friend. Bobbi’sfriend.Bobbi’sfriend.

The words repeated untiltheydidn’tmakeanysense.

Nothingmadeanysense.She followed Jennifer’s car

as it turned onto Fear Street.Pastthesprawling,ramshackleoldhouses.Pasttheburnt-outruins of the old Simon Fear

mansion high on its sloping,weed-coveredlawn.

And then suddenly, afterFear Street curved into thethick woods, Corky sawJennifer pull her car to theside of the road. Herheadlightsdimmed,thenwentout.

Corky hit the brakes, hercarslidingtoastoplessthanablockbehind.Quicklyshecutherlights.

Corky wondered, Why isshestoppinghere?

Leaning forward to get abetter view through thewindshield, she saw whereJenniferhadstopped.

The cemetery. The FearStreetcemetery.

Squinting through thedarkness, she saw Jennifer’scar door swing open. SawJennifer’s hand on the door

handle, pushing the dooropen,holdingitopen.

ThenshesawJenniferturnandputherfeetdownonthepavement.

“Oh, I don’t believe it!”Corky muttered to herself asJennifer pulled herself to herfeet.

Stoodup.Steppedawayfromthecar.

Slammed the door. Walked

onto the grass of thecemetery.

Walked.“Idon’tbelieveit,”Corky

repeated, gaping at theslender, dark figuredisappearing behind thegravestones.

“Shewalks. She canwalk.Bobbiwasright.Thatnightinfront of Jennifer’s house.Bobbi was right. And Ithoughtshewascrazy.”

Corkyleaptoutofthecar,closing the door silentlybehind her. Then she beganjogging along the curb,running as quietly as shecould, staying in the shadowsthrownbythetalltrees.

She stopped and kneltbehindagnarledoldoak,andpeered where Jennifer hadgone.

Wisps of fog floated overthegraveyard.Themoonlight

filtering through the fogtingedeverythingwithapale,sickly green. Shadows shiftedand shimmered in the eeriegreen light. The jaggedtombstonesglowed.

As Corky leaned againstthe cold, damp tree trunk,peering intently into thedimly lit scene, Jenniferreemerged.Dancing.

Dancing a strange, silentdance.

Her arms over her head,her legs—those legs everyonebelieved to be paralyzed—twirled and kicked. A silent,cheerlesstango.

She was wearing hercheerleader costume. Theshortskirtflewupasshespun.Herdarkhairflewbehindherasifalive.

Andwhatwasthatshewaswavinginherhand?

Corky squinted into themistygreenlight.

It was the pennant. TheShadyside pennant they hadmade for her after theaccident. The cripplingaccident.

And now here wasJennifer,twirlingwildlyinthegreenmoonlight.Kickingandtwirling.Waving thepennanthigh.

Dancinginanarrowcircle.Bendingherback, raisingherface to the moon, her longhair flowing down nearly totheground.

Roundandround.Around a tombstone.

Corkyrealized.Jennifer was circling a tall

tombstone, surrounded byfourotherstones.

SarahFear’stombstone.

Waving the pennant, shekicked her legs high as ifleadinga silentparade.Then,once again, she arched herback, raising her face to themoon.

Her eyes closed, the palegreenlightplayedoffherface.She bowed deeply, crossingher legs as she dipped, astrange curtsy to the moon.And then she rose up andbegan moving slowly to an

unheard rhythm, twirlingaround the gravestone, hereyesclosed,astrange,tranquilsmileonherface.

Corkycouldn’tstanditanylonger.

Pushing herself away fromthe tree, she lurched forwardinto the graveyard, her bootssinkingintothewetmud.

“Jennifer—” she called,her voice sounding tiny and

hollowonthewind.“Jennifer—what’sgoingon?”

Chapter23

“I’mNotJennifer”

Jennifer halted her strangedance and opened her eyes.Hersmilefaded.Sheloweredthepennanttoherside.

Corkyran,stoppingbeforethe first row of gravestones.“Jennifer—what are youdoing?”

Jennifer’seyesreflectedthegreenmoonlightassheturnedto face Corky. “I’m notJennifer,” she said, her voicehusky,almostbreathless.

“Huh?Jennifer—Isawyoudancing,”Corkycried.

“I’m not Jennifer,” sherepeated darkly, standing

directly in front of SarahFear’s tombstone. And thenshe screamed: “I’m notJennifer!”

“Jennifer—I saw you!”Corkyinsisted.

As if in reply, Jenniferlifted one hand high aboveher head and waved it as ifsummoningsomeone.

“Oh!” Corky cried out,raisingherhandstoherfaceasthegrass flewoffSarahFear’s

grave, and the dirt began torise.

Jennifer waved her handhighaboveherhead,andthedirt rose up like a darkcurtain, flying off the grave,flyinghighintotheblacksky.

And then the dirt wasswirling around them both,thicker and thicker, untilCorkycouldn’tseebeyondit,until Corky was forced tomoveclosertoJennifer.

Fasterandfasterthecurtainofdirtswirled,untilitbecamearaging,darkwhirlwind, likeatornadofunnel.

Coveringhereyeswithherarm, Corky staggeredforward, forward—until shewasstandingface-to-facewithJennifer. Jennifer held herhand high as if directing theswirling dirt, her eyes aglowwith excitement, theexcitementofherpower.

“Jennifer—what are youdoing? Stop it! Stop it—please!”

Corky’s frightened pleawasdrownedoutby the roarofthespinningdirt.Theroardrowned out all sound, allthoughts.Shecouldnolongersee themoonor the sky, thegraves,thetrees.

Inside the dark funnel ofdirt, she could see onlyJennifer. Jennifer, her eyes

glowing with an eerie greenlight, glaring at Corky, herexpression hard, angry, herhandstillraisedhighoverherhead.

Theywere alone, the twoof them, trapped inside thisfrighteningstormofgraveyarddirt.

And then the roar fadedanddiedasthedirtcontinuedto whirl around them. AndJennifer’s throaty voice, a

voiceCorkyhadneverheardbefore, rose in the freshsilence. “I am not Jennifer,”sherepeated,glaringcoldlyatCorky. “Jennifer is dead.Jenniferdiedweeksago.”

“What are you saying?”Corky cried, wrapping herarms around herself as if forprotection. “What ishappening?”

“Jennifer died in the busaccident,” the husky voice

revealed,hereyeslightingup,as if the words were givingher pleasure. “She was deadthat night in the rain. Shedied on top of Sarah Fear’sgrave.”

“Jennifer—what are yousaying?” Corky cried. Hereyes darted around, searchingfor an escape route. But theswirling black column of dirtofferednohopeofescape.

“I waited so long, solong,” the husky voice said,deepening with suddensadness. “I waited so long—and then Jennifer camealong....”

“I don’t understand,”Corkystarted.“Idon’t—”

“Buried for so long,” thevoice continued. “Burieddown there for a hundredyears with Sarah Fear.Waiting.Waiting.”

“You’re—you’re SarahFear?” Corky stammered,staring into the angry,glowingeyes.

“Not anymore,” came thereply.

Corky shuddered andhuggedherselftightly.

Thisisn’thappening.The heavy funnel of dirt

from the grave continued toswirl silently around the twogirls, blocking out all sound,

all light, all evidence that therestoftheworldexisted.

“I—Idon’t get it,”Corkystammered. “Are you somekindofghost?Anevilspirit?”

Again Jennifer threw backherheadinlaughter.“Thatisa quaint way of putting it,”she replied, sneering. Shepointed down to the grave.“Nearly a hundred years Iwaiteddown there for anew

body.AndthenJennifercamealong.”

“Please—” Corky cried,lowering her hands to hersides.“Stop.Letmegonow,okay?”

Jennifer shook her head,her eyes lighting up withpleasure.

“No—please,” Corkybegged.“Letmego.Whatdoyouwantwithme?”

A thin smile played overJennifer’s lips. “It’s your turnto go down there,” she said,pointingintothegrave.

Chapter24

IntotheCoffin

“No!”Corkytriedtobackaway. But she was trapped,trapped inside the spinningdirtasthickasagardenwall.

Jennifer leaned forwarduntilhereyesburnedsocloseto Corky that she could feeltheirheat.“Nearlyahundredyears I waited. But now I’malive inside Jennifer, andJennifer’s enemies will pay.”Again shepointeddown intothe grave. “Now it’s yourturn,Corky.”

“But why?” Corky cried.“I haven’t done anything toyou.”

“Haven’t done anything?You and your sister—withyour perfect faces? Yourperfect bodies? Your perfectlives?”

“But—”Corkyturnedherhead, tried to get away fromthe searing heat of the evil,burningeyes.

A bitter smile formed onJennifer’s eerily glowing face.“But I showed Bobbi. I

showed Bobbi and that boy,Chip.”

“You frightened them,”Corkysaid,realizingwhathadhappened, realizing that hersister’s wild stories were alltrue. “You paralyzed them.And then—you killedBobbi,” Corky said, chokingoutthewords.

Jennifer nodded once andlocked her eyes on Corky.“Nowit’syourturn.”

“No! Jennifer—wait!”Corkyscreamed.

The evil spirit insideJennifer’s body laughedscornfully.Shepointedatherfeet. “Look down there,Corky dear. Look down atyournewhome.”

Corky, too frightened todisobey, turned her eyesdown.

With another wave ofJennifer’shand,moredirtflew

up into the swirling dirtfunnel.As thedirt roseup ineerie silence, Corky stareddown into a deep hole. Toher horror, the hole revealedthe top of a coffin, the darkwoodswollenandwarped.

“See your new home—andyournewfriend!”theevilspirit cried in itshoarse,deadvoice.

“Oh!” Corky moanedweakly as the coffin lid

creakedopen.Still compelled to peer

down into the darkness,Corkywatched the lid lift allthewayup.

Insidethecoffin,shesawarotting skeleton, its eyelessskull staring up at herwith atoothygrin.

The skeletonwasmoving.Quiveringallover.

No.

Staring hard, unable toremove her eyes from theghastly sight,Corky sawwhythe skeleton appeared toquiver.

Those were wormsmoving on the bones,thousands of white wormsslithering over the skeleton,crawling over the rottingremainsofSarahFear.

“Oh!” Corky felt herstomachheave,feltherthroat

tightenindisgust.She shut her eyes and

turned away, but the sight ofthe thousands of slitheringwhitewormsstayedwithher.

Swallowinghard,tryingtoshake away the horrifyingpicture, she suddenly heardvoices.Farawayyetfamiliar.

For a brief, terrifyingmoment, she thought it wasthe voice of Sarah Fear,

calling to her from down intheopengrave.

But then she recognizedKimmy’s voice. And heardDebra’s reply. And Ronnie’sfrightenedshout.

The voices sounded farawaybecausetheycamefromoutsidethewallofdirt.

They must have followedme,Corkyrealized.

“Your friends are too lateto save you,” Jennifer said

calmly,without urgency. Sheraisedbothhands.

“No—please!” Corkyscreamed.“Please—don’t!”

Ignoringhercries,Jennifershoved Corky with startlingstrength,inhumanstrength.

Still screaming, Corkytoppled into the hole, downto join Sarah Fear in theopen,worm-riddencoffin.

Chapter25

CorkyLoses

Down into the hole. Intothewarped,swollencoffin.

Down to the whiteworms.

Buteven inher screamingterror, Corky’s bodyresponded, remembering thecheerleading skills, themovesher body had practiced overthe years until they hadbecome reflexive, a part ofher.

She landed hard on herfeet.Absorbedthepressureofthe landing by bending herknees.Thenpushedup,up—into a high standing jump.

Raisedherhands.Caughtthetop of the open grave as thewall of dirt began to swirlback down on her. Pulledherself up andout as thedirtbegantoloweritselfbackintothehole.

Panting loudly, shecrawled away from the hole,awayfromthehorror.

Jenniferhadalreadyturnedaway, turned around to facethethreecheerleaders.

Still acting by reflex, hermind still paralyzed by thehorrorsoftheopengrave,herbodyforcedtoactonitsown,Corky flung herself onJennifer. Caught her frombehind. Wrapped her armsaround Jennifer’s waist.Swung her back toward theopengrave.

She struggled to wrestleJennifer into the hole. Intothecoffin.Towrestletheevil

spirit back to where itbelonged, as the dirtcontinued to rain down,down,down.

Jennifer cried out in herhusky, deep voice, trying topull out ofCorky’s desperatehug.

The pennant, which shehadclutchedallthewhile,fellfrom her hand. Corkywatcheditdropintothehole.

It landed silently among thebonesandworms.

They wrestled nearer tothe edge of the hole. Corkypulled, pulled with all herstrength, tightening her armsaroundJennifer’swaist,tryingtothrowherdown.

Jennifer pulled back,cryingoutinprotest.

Closer to the hole.Closertotheedge.

Icandoit!Corkythought.Icandoit!

ButthenJenniferturnedtoface her, her eyes wild withfury. She opened her mouthwide, wider—and a windblewout,astench,avapor,awind that howled overCorky,coveredherface,filledhernostrils.

Jennifer tilted her head,closedhereyes,andthevaporroared out of her, reeking of

death, of decay, of all that isfoul.

It blew into Corky’s face,hotandwetand sour.Corkygaggedandturnedherface.

But the wind still howledout of Jennifer’s mouth,encircled Corky and chokedherinitsthick,hotstench.

I’mgoing to suffocate, shethought.

I can’t breathe. I’m goingto suffocate. The smell. The

smellistoosickening!Corky realized she was

weakening, about to lose thefight.

One last tug.Sheheldherbreath and braced herself,summoned all of herremainingstrengthforonelasttug.

Now!shetoldherself.And heaved with all her

might, her arms wrappedtightlyaroundJennifer’swaist.

Into the grave! Corkythought.Jennifer—godownintothegrave!

But Jennifer was toostrong.

The foul wind raged andhowled from her openmouth.

Jenniferdidn’tbudge.I’mlost,Corkythought.

Chapter26

Buried

CorkyfeltherarmsslipoffJennifer’s waist. I’m lost. I’mlost.

As the dirt rained down,she could suddenly hear theterrified cries of the threegirls.

Jennifer’s eyes were openwideasthesourwindhowledfrom her mouth. She knewshe had won. She knew herevilhadtriumphed.

First Bobbi. Now me,Corkythought.

Bobbi.Bobbi.

The thought of her sisterfilledherwithrenewedanger.Withananguishedcry,Corkythrew herself onto Jennifer’sback and wrapped her handsaround Jennifer’s throat frombehind.

JenniferstruggledasCorkytightened her grip, tightenedher hands, began to chokeJennifer, choke the evil spiritinsideJennifer’sbody,pushingherheaddown.

The raging stream of foulvapor from Jennifer’s mouthblew into theholenow, intothe open grave.Corky couldsee it, blowing the wormsaroundinthecoffin.

“Yes!” she cried aloud,hearing the wind lose itshowl, feeling it weaken as itpouredintothecoffin.

All the evil pouring downintothecoffin.

AndasCorkycontinuedtochoke her, Jennifer feltlighter,lighter.Lightasair.

And the wind stopped.Jennifer uttered a feeblegroan,andthewindstopped.

“Yes!” Corky cried, notloosening her grip onJennifer’sthroat.

The evil spirit isabandoning her, Corkythought.

She could feel it leaving,could feel Jennifer’s bodygrowinglight.

Corkyletgo.Jennifer lay facedown in

thedirt.Corky watched as the

coffin lid slammed shut,trapping the evil vapor,trappingtheevilspiritinside.

Thedirt raineddown inadark, thunderous avalanche,

filling the hole, re-coveringthegrave.

Buried. The evil spirit isburied again,Corky thought,gaspinginthecool,sweetair,thecleanair, letting the freshnightairfillherlungs.

She realized she was stillonherkneesinthesoftdirt.

“Corky—!” Kimmy wasscreaming.

The three girls werestandingright in frontofher,

peeringatthegraveinhorror.They had seen it all, seenevery moment of Corky’sdesperate battle. Now theyhuddledaroundher.

“Corky—are you okay?”Ronniecried.

All four of them turnedtheir eyes to Jennifer’s body.SlowlyCorkyrolledheroverso she was face up. “Ohh,”Kimmygroaned.

Ronnie gagged and heldon to Debra to keep fromsinkingtoherknees.

As thegirlsgaped in silenthorror, Jennifer’s skin driedand crumpled, flaking off inchunks.Herlonghairfelloff,strands blowing away in thebreeze. Her eyes sank backintoherskull,thenrottedintodark pits. Her cheerleadercostume appeared to growlarger as her flesh decayed

underneath it, and her bonesappeared.

Before Corky realizedwhat was happening, she feltKimmy’sarmslidearoundhershoulders.“It’sokay,Corky,”Kimmy whispered. “You’reokaynow.It’sallgoingtobeokay.”

And then they heard aman’s voice calling from thestreet. “What’s going onhere?”

Darting beams fromflashlights danced over theground. The girls looked upinto the suspicious faces oftwo uniformed Shadysideofficers.

“What’s going on here?One of the neighborsreporteda—”

Bothof theyoungofficersgaspedinsurpriseastheysawthe body sprawled on theground beside the four girls,

the body draped in acheerleader’scostume.

“Whatonearth—?”“It’s Jennifer,” Corky

managed to say from themidst of her confusion. “It’sJennifer Daly. I followed herhere.She—”

“Huh?” Both policedirected their lights from thebody to Corky’s face. “Youfollowed her here? Are yousure,miss?”

“Yes. I followedherhere.Shewasdancing—”

“You didn’t follow thisgirl, miss,” the policemansaid, eyeing Corky intently.“Thisgirlhasn’tbeendancingtonight.Take a good look atthecorpse.Thisgirlhasbeendeadforweeks!”

♦♦♦Jennifer’s anguished parents,awakened and summoned to

the police station, haddemandedanswers.

But there were noreasonableanswers,no logicalanswers.

Corky’s parents had alsoarrived,asupsetandconfusedas everyone else. They hadwaited patiently with theirdaughter during the hours ofquestioning, thepoliceaskingthe same questions again andagain, dissatisfied with the

answers they received fromCorky and the other threegirls.

“Fear Street,” one of thepolicemen had said grimly,shaking his head. “FearStreet...”

A few minutes later heallowedthemalltogohome.

As Corky climbed thestairs to her room, the roomshehadsharedwithhersister,shethoughtofBobbi.

Bobbihaddiedbecauseoftheevilspirit’sjealousy.

And now Corky wasalone.Leftalonetorememberforever the horrors of thisnight.

She turned on the lightand glanced at the bedsideclock. Three o’clock in themorning. Wearily, feelingnumb, she tugged off herclothes, letting them fall to

the floor, and pulled anightgownoverherhead.

“Bobbi—I miss you somuch!”shecriedoutloud.

Trying to force back thesobs that threatened to burstout of her throat, she turnedoff the light and loweredherselfintobed.

Bobbi is gone forever, shetoldherselfmiserably.

Butsoistheevilspirit.

The evil spirit is buriedonce again, buried in theoldgrave, locked in the coffinundersixfeetofdirtwhereitcan’tharmanyoneeveragain.

She sighed, pulling thecoversuptoherchin.

“Hey—”There was something in

herbed.With a startled cry, she

reached down, grabbed it,heldittightly.

She clicked on the lampandstaredatit,blinkingashereyesadjustedtothelight.

It was the maroon andwhitepennantwith Jennifer’snamestitchedacrossthefront.

She stared at the pennant,reading the name again andagain.

Thenit fell fromherhandandshestartedtoscream.

THENIGHTMARES

NEVEREND...

WHENYOUVISIT

Next...CHEERLEADERS:

THESECONDEVIL

Corky Corcoran is trying toputthenightmareofhersister

Bobbi’s death behind her.She’s back on the Shadysidecheerleading squad and hasbecome friendswithKimmy,Debra, and Ronnie. But justwhen everything seems likeit’sbacktonormalforCorky,she hears horrible screams inthe gym, notices a verystrange youngman followingher, and thinks she sees herdeadsisterrisefromthegrave.

And then the murders beginagain....

AbouttheAuthor

“Where do you get yourideas?”

That’s the question thatR.L. Stine is asked mostoften. “I don’t know wheremyideascomefrom,”hesays.“ButIdoknowthatIhavealot more scary stories in my

mind that I can’t wait towrite.”

Sofar,hehaswrittenovera hundred mysteries andthrillers for young people, allofthembest-sellers.

Bob grew up inColumbus, Ohio. Today helives in an apartment nearCentral Park in New YorkCitywithhiswife,Jane.

BooksbyR.L.Stine

FearStreet

ALL-NIGHTPARTYBADDREAMSTHEBESTFRIENDTHEBESTFRIEND2:SPECIAL

EDITIONTHEBOYNEXTDOORTHECHEATERCOLLEGEWEEKENDTHECONFESSIONTHEDAREDEADEND

DOUBLEDATETHEFACEFINALGRADETHEFIREGAMEFIRSTDATEHALLOWEENPARTYHAUNTEDINTOTHEDARKKILLER’SKISSTHEKNIFELET’SPARTYLIGHTSOUTTHEMINDREADERMISSINGTHENEWBOYTHENEWGIRL

NIGHTGAMESONEEVILSUMMERTHEOVERNIGHTTHEPERFECTDATETHEPROMQUEENTHERICHGIRLTHERUNAWAYSECRETADMIRERTHESECRETBEDROOMSKIWEEKENDTHESLEEPWALKERTHESTEPSISTERTHESTEPSISTER2SUNBURNTHESURPRISEPARTYSWITCHED

THETHRILLCLUBTRAPPEDTRUTHORDAREWHATHOLLYHEARDWHOKILLEDTHE

HOMECOMINGQUEEN?THEWRONGNUMBERWRONGNUMBER2

FearPark

THEFIRSTSCREAMTHELOUDESTSCREAMTHELASTSCREAM

FearStreetCheerleaders

THEFIRSTEVILTHESECONDEVILTHETHIRDEVILTHENEWEVILCHEERLEADERS:THEEVIL

LIVES!(AFearStreetSuperchiller)

FearStreetDuet

FEARHALL:THEBEGINNINGFEARHALL:THE

CONCLUSION

FearStreetTrilogies

TheCatalunaChronicles

THEEVILMOON#1THEDARKSECRET#2THEDEADLYFIRE#3

99FearStreet:TheHouseofEvil

THEFIRSTHORRORTHESECONDHORRORTHETHIRDHORROR

FearStreetSaga

THEBETRAYAL#1THESECRET#2THEBURNING#3THEAWAKENINGEVILCHILDRENOFFEAR

DANCEOFDEATHDAUGHTERSOFSILENCEFORBIDDENSECRETSHEARTOFTHEHUNTERTHEHIDDENEVILHOUSEOFWHISPERSTHESIGNOFFEARANEWFEAR

FearStreetSuperChillers

BADMOONLIGHTBROKENHEARTSTHEDEADLIFEGUARDGOODNIGHTKISSGOODNIGHTKISS2HIGHTIDE

THENEWYEAR’SPARTYPARTYSUMMERSILENTNIGHTSILENTNIGHT#2SILENTNIGHT#3

Othernovels

HOWIBROKEUPWITHERNIE

PHONECALLSCURTAINSBROKENDATE

Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Anyreferencestohistoricalevents,realpeople,orreallocalesareusedfictitiously.Othernames,characters,places,andincidentsaretheproductoftheauthor’simagination,andanyresemblancetoactualeventsorlocalesorpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.

FirstSimonPulseeditionMay2002Textcopyright©1992byParachutePress,Inc.

OriginallypublishedasanArchwayPaperbackin1992

SIMONPULSEAnimprintofSimon&SchusterChildren’sPublishingDivision1230AvenueoftheAmericasNewYork,NY10020www.SimonandSchuster.com

Allrightsreserved,includingtherightofreproductioninwholeorinpartinanyform.

ISBN-13:978-0-671-75117-3ISBN-10:0-671-75117-4

ISBN-13:978-1-4424-0745-9(eBook)

FEARSTREETisaregisteredtrademarkofParachutePress,Inc.