by R. L. Stine
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
About the Author
Chapter
1
“Whoa!”
Vincent Milano dropped back against the sofa cushions. He could still feel the touch of Delia Easton’s lips on his cheek.
He watched her run a silver tube of purple lipstick over her lips.
She stroked it across her full lower lip. She smoothed it over her top lip. She carefully outlined her lips.
Something must have told her it looked perfect. She smacked her lips together and blotted them with a tissue. Then she tossed the tissue onto the table in front of the couch.
A perfect set of lip prints stained the white tissue. Dark purple lip prints. They grinned up at Vincent the same way Delia grinned at him from her spot on the couch.
Vincent ran a hand through his wavy, dark hair. He reached across Delia and grabbed a tissue from her bag. Then he wiped a smudge of purple lipstick off his cheek.
“Now what were we talking about?” he asked. He gave Delia one of his Vincent-Milano-trademark smiles.
“We need to plan your birthday party,” Delia replied. She checked her watch. “But I guess we’ll have to do that some other time. It’s late. I should go home.”
Vincent scooted closer. “It’s not that late. You don’t have to go yet.” He stroked one finger under her left ear.
Delia giggled. Then she glanced at the front window. “Your parents will probably be home soon,” she said.
“But they’re not home yet.” Vincent turned to the window. He couldn’t see much—just Delia’s little red Jetta parked in the driveway. The street in front of the house stood empty.
“They won’t be home for a while.” Actually, Vincent’s parents wouldn’t be back for hours. But he expected someone at nine. Someone Vincent did not want Delia to see.
He checked the clock on the mantel.
Only eight-thirty. Plenty of time before Karina arrived. He might as well enjoy himself while he waited.
Vincent kissed Delia again. She would never guess that his big smile had anything to do with Karina Frye.
“Mmmm.” Delia stared up at him, her brown eyes sparkling. “I went shopping for a new outfit today,” she told him. “I want something special to wear on your birthday. I tried on a purple vinyl skirt, but I’m not sure …”
Oh, great, Vincent thought. Karina and Delia will both expect to spend my birthday with me.
Vincent laughed. “You’d look awesome in purple vinyl!”
Delia blushed.
It’s the truth, Vincent told himself. And it’s what she wants to hear. What’s wrong with that?
Delia wasn’t beautiful—not like Karina. But people noticed her everywhere she went.
“You have great hair,” Vincent whispered. He ran his hands through Delia’s long, dark curls. “And you know that purple lipstick drives me crazy,” he added.
Yes! He found exactly the right thing to say. Delia planted a kiss on Vincent’s mouth. He tried not to think about Karina while he kissed Delia.
He would never be able to choose between the two girls. They were too different. He couldn’t compare them.
Karina had super-smooth blond hair and lightblue eyes. She was prettier than anyone Vincent had ever seen. She reminded him of Michelle Pfeiffer.
Delia was outgoing and outrageous. Karina was sweet and smart. He liked them both—a lot.
If his luck held, he could keep going out with both of them.
Delia sighed. “I can’t believe I was ever dumb enough to think you liked Karina. You’re not angry about that, are you?”
Vincent ignored the queasy feeling that shot through his stomach. Leave it to Delia to mention Karina now.
Delia didn’t have a clue that he was seeing Karina. And Karina didn’t know about Delia. If she did, she wouldn’t be coming over.
“I’m not angry.” Vincent tried to keep his voice steady. “You and Karina fight over everything. It figures that you would both want the same guy.”
“Yeah, it figures Karina would want my boyfriend.” Delia pulled away from Vincent and sat up. “She’s been jealous of me since we were kids! My clothes. My grades. My friends.”
Delia sighed. “Karina pretends to be such a goody-goody. But as soon as she heard we were going out, she went after you.”
Vincent rolled his eyes. He never felt guilty about anything—and he wasn’t about to start now. But listening to Delia talk about Karina made him nervous.
He checked the clock on the mantel.
Eight-thirty.
Whoa! How could it still be eight-thirty?
Vincent’s breath caught in his throat. He jumped up from the couch.
“Vincent? What’s wrong?” Delia called.
“Uh—nothing.” Trying his best to look casual, Vincent strolled over to the fireplace. He bent his head close to the clock.
No ticking. The clock had stopped.
And he had no idea how long ago. It could be nine o’clock right now!
Vincent’s heart banged against his ribs. He turned back to Delia. She started to apply a fresh coat of purple lipstick.
“You … you’re right about my parents,” Vincent stammered. He hurried across the room and grabbed Delia’s arm. He hauled her off the couch. “They will be home soon. You’d better leave.”
“Excuse me? A minute ago you said—”
“I know, but I didn’t realize how late it was.” Vincent turned to the window. Still no sign of Karina. But she should be here any second.
“My mom thinks I’m studying for my calculus test,” he told Delia. “I promised I would.” Vincent handed Delia her green and purple parka and nudged her toward the door. “She will kill me if she finds out you’ve been here.”
He flicked on the lamp near the door and peeked outside.
No Karina.
He yanked open the front door. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” he told Delia. “Right?”
“Right,” she answered. Delia checked her lipstick in the mirror that hung in the front hallway. Then she gave Vincent a quick kiss on the cheek. “Tomorrow,” she said, and made her way out the door.
The second she left, Vincent raced into the family room. He fluffed the pillows on the couch. He grabbed the tissue Delia had used to blot her lipstick and shoved it into his pocket.
When he heard Delia’s car start, he rushed to the window in time to wave good-bye. He watched the red taillights of her Jetta disappear around the corner—just as the headlights of another car came into view.
Karina!
Vincent’s heart started pounding again—with excitement. He waited by the window, watching Karina park her silver Eclipse and climb out.
In the moonlight, Karina’s long, blond hair appeared as silver as her car. She had it pulled back into a sleek ponytail that brushed against her shoulders as she walked to the front door.
Vincent grinned to himself as he watched her step into the light of the porch.
Karina wore a short, black skirt and dark stockings that showed off her long legs. Even though it was February, she didn’t wear a coat. Her sweater matched her blue eyes exactly.
Vincent opened the door before Karina rang the bell. He stepped out onto the front porch and gazed down the empty street.
That was a close call, he thought.
“Karina!” He smiled. The Vincent-Milano-trademark smile. “It’s about time you got here! I’ve been bored out of my mind all night.”
“Sorry I’m late,” Karina answered. “But guess what? As I drove over here, I thought of the perfect theme for your birthday party!”
“Let’s talk about it later.” Vincent slipped his arms around Karina and pulled her close. He kissed her, a long, slow kiss.
“Come on in,” he whispered, pulling Karina through the door.
The second they stepped into the brightly lit hallway, all the color drained from Karina’s face. Her mouth fell open.
“Oh, no!” Karina gasped. “I don’t believe it!”
Chapter
2
“Huh? What is it?”
Vincent spun around to check the hallway behind him. Nothing there.
He turned back to Karina. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” Color flooded back into Karina’s beautiful face. Splotches of red appeared high on her cheekbones.
“What’s wrong?” she repeated angrily. She wrenched her arm out of Vincent’s grasp and stalked into the family room.
What is her problem? Vincent wondered.
Karina came back carrying a clean tissue. She swiped it across his cheek—hard.
“That’s what’s wrong,” she uttered through clenched teeth. She held up the tissue for him to see.
“Huh?” Vincent stared at the smear of dark purple on the tissue.
“I’d know that color anywhere!” Karina wadded the tissue into a ball and hurled it to the floor.
“Karina—whoa!” Vincent started. “I—”
“Delia! She was here, wasn’t she? She knows that you and I are seeing each other—and she came over to try to steal you away from me. And you! You kissed her!”
Vincent had never seen Karina so upset. She was actually trembling.
It will be all right, he coached himself. Karina will calm down in a minute.
As long as I make up a good story …
Vincent kept his voice soft. He tried to sound calm. Innocent. “It’s not what you think,” he told Karina.
“Oh, really?” She rolled her eyes.
“Delia just showed up at my door. She needed help with her American civ homework. At least that’s what she said.”
Karina stared at him, her blue eyes cold. “That doesn’t explain the kiss.”
“You know how Delia is.” Vincent stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “She does what she wants—no matter what. When she was leaving, she kissed me on the cheek. It was no big deal. Really.”
Karina sighed and walked over to the window. She’s caving, Vincent thought happily.
Luckily, she can never stay angry at me for long.
Vincent followed her. “I didn’t kiss her back or anything. It was a two-second peck on the cheek. Really.”
Karina should be ready for a hug, he thought. Ready to forgive me. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
With an angry groan, Karina yanked herself away from him. “Delia only likes you because she knows you’re mine. She wants everything I have. My grades. My clothes. My friends. She even wants you.”
Vincent watched in surprise as Karina’s eyes grew bright with tears. He reached out for her again. Karina pushed him away.
“I’m sick of Delia!” Karina cried. “I hate her! I won’t let her win this time!” Karina pulled open the front door and raced outside.
Vincent’s mouth went dry. He stared at Karina’s back as she ran out to her car.
The car door slammed shut. The headlights flicked on. The engine roared to life.
“Hey! Karina!” Vincent called finally. “Wait!”
He started to run, waving wildly to her with both hands over his head.
The car backed out of the driveway at top speed. The tires squealed against the pavement.
Vincent sprinted across the front lawn. “Karina! Stop!” he called.
The car didn’t slow. Vincent caught a glimpse of Karina’s furious face as she pulled away.
The tires squealed again as she sped around the corner. He couldn’t stop thinking about Karina’s face.
So angry.
So out of control.
What was she planning to do?
Chapter
3
“It says here that the winner of the Conklin Award has to show ex … ex …”
Delia glanced over at her best friend, Britty Myers. Britty chewed on a strand of her long, honey-colored hair as she tried to figure out the word in the brochure. “The winner has to show ex …”
“Exemplary school spirit,” Gabe Denver read over her shoulder. “It also says the winner has to be an outstanding all-around student, an accomplished performer, and a talented artist.”
He raised his eyes from the brochure and stared at Delia. His cheeks turned red. “Sounds like you’ve got it made, Delia,” he said.
“For sure,” Delia murmured, rolling her eyes.
She and her friends perched on one of the top rows of bleachers in the gym, watching an intramural basketball game. They had almost the whole section to themselves.
Delia wasn’t paying much attention to the game. She didn’t want to think about anything but Vincent. She remembered the touch of his kiss. Just imagining Vincent’s arms around her made her feel like she was about to go into a nuclear meltdown.
I wonder why he got rid of me so fast last night, she thought. One second he was begging me to stay. The next he was shoving me out the door.
Delia shook her head, tossing her long, dark curls over her shoulder. She smoothed the skirt of the dark-orange shirtdress she’d found at the local thrift shop. It had big, bright yellow flowers embroidered all the way around the hem. She loved it.
I’m probably the only girl at Shadyside High who would wear something like this, she thought.
And that’s why she bought it. She didn’t like blending into the crowd.
Delia noticed Gabe staring at her. He reminded her of a puppy waiting for a dog biscuit. She controlled the urge to pat him on the head.
She knew Gabe had sort of a crush on her. She wished he would at least ask some other girls out. She bet there were a lot of girls at Shadyside High who would like to hang out with Gabe.
Maybe even Britty? Delia gazed back and forth between her two friends. They would make a cute couple.
I doubt Gabe would appreciate me trying to fix him up, Delia thought. But I have to do something nice for him. He’s such a great guy.
Who else would have enough patience to help Delia with her homework almost every night of the week? Who else would listen to her talk about Vincent for hours at a time?
Delia thought it was sweet of Gabe. Especially since she knew he didn’t like Vincent. And it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Gabe felt jealous.
“Hey! Earth to Delia!” Britty bounced up and down beside Delia. She waved her hands in front of Delia’s face.
Britty was short and athletic—the best gymnast at Shadyside High. She couldn’t sit still for more than a few minutes at a time.
“Sit down, will you?” Delia asked. “I want to fix my lipstick.” She reached for her tube of Midnight Wine and touched up her lips. Then she tossed the tube back into her purse and glanced around, searching for a blotter.
Britty’s notebook lay on the seat next to her. Delia ripped a page out of it and blotted her lips against the paper.
“Delia!” Britty yelped. She popped back on her feet again. “I have to buy a new notebook practically every week because of you.”
“Oops. I know it’s a bad habit. Your
next notebook is on me,” Delia said. She stared down at the deep purple lip print she had left on the sheet of paper—a smiling lip print. Smiling because I was thinking about Vincent, she decided.
Britty dropped down on the seat. “You’ve been out in the ozone somewhere since we got here. What’s your problem, anyway? We were talking about the Conklin Award. I know you’re interested in that.”
Thoughts of Vincent vanished. “I’m sorry, Britty. Even thinking about the Conklin Award makes me so nervous I can hardly stand it.”
Delia’s parents had no money to send her to college. If Delia didn’t win the Conklin Award, she would have to go to Waynesbridge Junior College in the fall. And it would even be hard to afford that.
But if she did win the Conklin Award, she could go to the hottest and most expensive fashion college in New York City. When she was twelve she decided she wanted to go there—and she’d never changed her mind.
Delia frowned. The Conklin wasn’t just an award. It was the ticket to all her dreams. The most important thing in the entire universe.
Well, except for Vincent.
“What do you think?” Delia studied her two friends. She didn’t want them to lie to her. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the truth either. “Do I have a chance at the Conklin?”
“Definitely,” Gabe told her. The buzzer ending the game sounded, and he cheered for the senior team. Kids gathered up their books and backpacks and headed out of the gym.
“Piece of cake, Delia,” Gabe continued. “No one has a better shot at the Conklin Award than you.”
Delia couldn’t help smiling. “I’m glad you think so,” she told Gabe. “But I don’t think the judges will just hand it to me. Seven kids applied for the award this year.”
She ran through the other candidates in her mind. Most of them weren’t a threat, but there were a few who stood a chance. A good chance.
“Stewart Andrews is a major problem,” she said. “He’s the best artist in the class.”
“He told me he’s doing a magic show for the talent part of the competition,” Britty put in. “Remember when he made Mr. Marsden disappear? That was cool.”
Gabe shrugged. “It was a cheap trick.”
Delia was still listing the candidates. “And then there’s Karina. She has a good chance too.”