Killer's Kiss
Page 9
The nurse checked a chart. “Her doctor is with her now. But he’ll be finished in a minute or two.”
“Thanks.” Gabe turned and headed back to Delia. He sat down close to her, close enough to smell her flowery perfume. “We have to wait a few minutes.”
“I don’t mind.” Delia snuggled closer to him. “I should be happy Karina is here where she belongs,” she said. “At least I know she’s getting the help she needs.” Delia sighed. “And I don’t have to worry about her anymore—worry about what terrible thing she’ll do to me next. But school isn’t the same without her. I can hardly imagine graduation without Karina there.”
“Hey! This is our prom night!” Gabe reminded her. “It’s going to be the best night of our lives. No time for feeling sad.”
He adjusted the collar of his tuxedo shirt. “Besides, next year you’ll be away at that fancy fashion school in New York. Just think about that, Delia. The winner of the Conklin Award. Loose in New York City!”
Delia played with Gabe’s bow tie. “The Conklin Award.” She sighed, shaking her head.
Gabe stared at her. “Why do you say it that way?”
“It’s not the way I wanted to win it,” Delia replied.
“Excuse me?”
A strange smile spread over Delia’s face. A smile Gabe had never seen before. A knowing smile. Almost cruel.
“If only Karina had realized how much she already had,” Delia said softly.
Gabe’s eyebrows rose up. “Huh? What she had?”
“She had Vincent. And she had the Conklin Award,” Delia replied, still smiling.
She tilted Gabe’s bow tie one way, then the other. Her eyes flashed with excitement. The strange smile remained on her lips.
“Karina would have won, you know,” she told him. “She would have won them both. If I had let her.”
A cold shiver ran down Gabe’s back. He pulled away from Delia.
And stared hard at her.
“Delia—what do you mean?” he demanded.
Chapter
31
“What are you saying?” Gabe demanded. “What do you mean—you didn’t let her win?”
“I took charge,” Delia said, grinning that fierce grin at him. “Don’t you get it? I started with the small stuff. You know. Jamming the rat into my guitar and smearing purple lipstick over my paintings.”
She shook her head. “Getting that rat was so gross! I had to dig through the big garbage bin behind the school.”
Gabe uttered a choked cry.
Delia didn’t seem to notice how shocked he was.
She continued her story. “I could tell those little tricks wouldn’t be enough. Karina was too pretty. And too talented. The judges loved her. So I had to do something else. Something more …”
Gabe wanted to jump up and run away. He suddenly couldn’t stand sitting so near her. Couldn’t stand her cruel smile or the way her eyes flashed so gleefully.
But he couldn’t move.
Frozen in shock—in horror—he needed to hear more.
Delia’s smile faded. The light in her eyes dimmed. “Then I caught Vincent making out with my disgusting sister,” she groaned bitterly. “Yuck. Just thinking about it turns my stomach.”
Delia stared at the floor.
Suddenly feeling cold and trembly, Gabe waited for her to continue.
“I guess that’s when I figured out what I was going to do,” Delia began again in a whisper. “I couldn’t let Vincent get away with that. I couldn’t let him kiss my sister in front of me.”
Her voice became a growl. A furious growl.
“I was losing everything. Everything. Vincent. My sister. The award. I saw everything slip away.”
She blinked. “And then I suddenly knew what I had to do. I had to kill Vincent,” Delia declared, almost cheerfully. “I had to kill him for liking Karina better than me. And for kissing my sister. Kissing my sister. Kissing my sister … And if I could pin the blame on Karina—then all my problems would be solved!”
Delia pulled a tube of Midnight Wine lipstick out of her purse. She smoothed a fresh coat over her lips. She pulled a tissue out of the box on the table. Then she blotted her lips, leaving a deep purple lip print.
Gabe couldn’t stop another shiver from rushing down his back.
“So you … killed Vincent? The morning after the party?” he choked out.
“No way,” Delia shot back. “Vincent never drove me home that night. I killed him after everyone left. I had it all planned.”
The evil smile returned. “I was so smart, Gabe. I had it all planned. I killed Vincent. And I used a lip print on a paper just like this one to make the mark on his face.”
“And the lip prints in Karina’s dresser drawer?” Gabe managed to ask.
Delia laughed. “I sneaked into Karina’s house while she was at the party. I put them in her drawer.”
Delia made a pouty face. “Then I had to rip my own dress. What a shame. I loved that dress. I designed it myself. Red with all those beads.”
She sighed. “The hard part was bruising my wrists. That really hurt. But it was worth it—right? It was all worth it.”
She pulled her head back and gazed at him, as if seeing him for the first time.
“Wow. I’ve been talking and talking.” She raised a hand to her face. “What got me started? I don’t know …”
Gabe could feel his cheeks growing hot. He knew they were bright red. He opened his mouth to speak. But no words came out.
“I guess I had to tell somebody,” Delia continued. “You look shocked. But you won’t tell on me, will you, Gabe?”
She kissed his cheek.
Gabe swallowed hard. He could picture the purple lip print on his cheek.
“You won’t tell on me—will you?” she asked in a little baby voice. “Will you?”
She kissed his ear. She kissed his cheek. His chin. His other cheek.
In the waiting room mirror, Gabe glimpsed his face, smeared with purple.
She kissed him. Kissed him again.
Kissed his forehead. His cheeks.
“You won’t tell—will you? You won’t forget what I did to Vincent. Will you?”
Gabe stared helplessly at his reflection, at his face, smeared with thick, purple stains.
“Will you? Will you?” She continued to rub her lips over his skin. “Will you, Vincent? I mean Gabe.”
A sound made Gabe turn.
Gazing over Delia’s shoulder, he saw a white-coated doctor standing grim-faced at the doorway.
“I heard the whole story,” the doctor told Gabe. “I’ll phone the police.”
About the Author
R.L. Stine invented the teen horror genre with Fear Street, the bestselling teen horror series of all time. He also changed the face of children’s publishing with the mega-successful Goosebumps series, which Guinness World Records cites as the Best-Selling Children’s Books ever, and went on to become a worldwide multimedia phenomenon. The first two books in his new series Mostly Ghostly, Who Let the Ghosts Out? and Have You Met My Ghoulfriend? are New York Times bestsellers. He’s thrilled to be writing for teens again in the brand-new Fear Street Nights books.
R.L. Stine has received numerous awards of recognition, including several Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Awards and Disney Adventures Kids’ Choice Awards, and he has been selected by kids as one of their favorite authors in the National Education Association Read Across America. He lives in New York City with his wife, Jane, and their dog, Nadine.
A Parachute Press Book
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SIMON PULSE
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Copyright © 1997 by Parachute Press, L.L.C.
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FEAR STREET is a registered trademark of Parachute Press, Inc.
Designed by Sammy Yuen Jr.
The text of this book was set in Times.
First Simon Pulse edition June 2005
Library of Congress Control Number 2004112719
ISBN 1-4169-0320-8
ISBN 13: 978-1-4424-6645-6 (ebook)