by R. L. Stine
“I meant how’s it going otherwise?”
I took a breath. Did I really want to talk to Keith? I couldn’t decide. “Keith, why are you calling?”
“I heard about the store robbery joke. Ivy and Jeremy told me about it. It was really mean, Poppy. They feel terrible.”
“Yeah. Terrible,” I muttered sarcastically.
“The whole thing was crazy,” Keith said. “I . . . I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”
“Nice of you,” I said. I wanted to get off the phone. I knew what Keith wanted. He had his sincere voice on. And I knew what was coming.
“I wouldn’t have gone along with that,” he said. “I would have tried to stop them.”
“I know how careful you are,” I said. “I know you wouldn’t—”
“You don’t really know me,” he interrupted. “You don’t really know me at all.” Now there was a desperation in his voice. It was strange.
“I have to get off, Keith. I’m not allowed to have personal calls.”
“Okay. All right. I just wanted . . . I guess I wanted to say I miss you.”
Oh, wow. I didn’t want to hurt him. But I didn’t want to get back with him, either.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I said it kind of coldly so he’d get the message. “Gotta go. Catch you in school.”
“But, Poppy, listen. I—”
I clicked off. The taxi phone was ringing. I pictured Keith sitting somewhere, still holding his phone, his face crumpled into a hurt expression.
Maybe he’d finally get the idea this time. We were over.
The time went by slowly. There were a few calls for taxis, but mostly I sat there listening to music and reading Pride and Prejudice for English class.
My shift was over at nine. I switched on the automatic call unit, packed my phone and book into my backpack, and wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck. Yes, I even wear a silk scarf to my lonely little job. I just feel safer, more comfortable with a scarf on.
I headed to the taxi garage in back where I parked my car. It’s an indoor garage, dimly lit, low, concrete ceilings, kind of spooky, much bigger than it needs to be since the company has only seven taxis.
The sound of my shoes echoed against the stone walls as I walked to my car at the far end. I thought I saw a rat scamper under a parked taxi, a flash of gray. I started to walk faster.
Four taxis were parked in a line in the center spots. That meant three taxis were out on the job. I glimpsed the narrow driveway that led out of the garage.
I was halfway to my car when I heard a cough.
I stopped. And listened. My skin tingled.
I’m not alone.
Someone else is here.
“Who’s there?” My voice came out muffled from my sudden fear.
Silence. A ringing silence. No answer.
“Is someone back here?”
I heard a soft scraping sound. The sound of someone trying to walk quietly.
I squinted at the parked taxis. I didn’t see anyone. The air in the garage seemed to grow colder.
“Who’s there?” I called. “Answer me!”
The silence hung heavily in the air. I could hear someone breathing rapidly. Were they trying to scare me? They were doing a good job of it.
I turned to my car against the back wall. Could I make it there in time to get away?
I took a deep breath and started to run.
And a man stepped out of the shadows to block my path.
“You!” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”
34
Poppy Narrates
I stared in surprise, my legs trembling, my heart pounding, at Lucas, the weird guy from Harlow’s store. He stared back at me with those dark eyes that seemed to be jumping around all the time. His brown hair fell in tangles at the sides of his head. The light caught the silver ring in his nose.
He wore a flannel shirt, open to reveal a stained T-shirt underneath, and baggy jeans that hung low enough to show a few inches of his boxer shorts.
As he stared at me, a lopsided smile formed on his pale face.
“Lucas, what are you doing here?” I demanded. My muscles were tight. I was on high alert. Ready to run if I had to. “Did you follow me?”
His smile grew wider. His crazy eyes seemed to penetrate me. His expression, the way he stood, as if ready to stop me, was chilling.
“You . . . have to leave,” I choked out. “I mean it. You have to leave now.”
I took a sharp intake of breath as he moved toward me.
“But I like you,” he whispered.
What?
“Lucas, listen—”
Before I could back away, he was right in front of me, so close I could smell the beer on his breath. “No. Listen—” I started.
He took the ends of my scarf in his hands and began to play with them. “I like you, Poppy,” he whispered. “I like you a lot.”
“Let go of me!” I screamed. I grabbed his arms hard and shoved him away. As he staggered back, he pulled the scarf off my neck. “Go away, Lucas. Go away!” I cried.
I spun away from him and started to run to my car. I didn’t care about the scarf. I just wanted to get away.
I could hear him running after me. I glanced back and saw him waving my scarf in front of him as he ran. “I like you, Poppy,” he called, his words ringing off the concrete walls as if they were all around me, surrounding me. “Don’t run away. I like you.”
I tugged the car keys from my bag. I was just a few feet away from the car. Could I get inside and lock the door before he caught me?
“Ohhhhh!” I screamed as I fumbled the keys and they flew from my hand. They clattered to the garage floor and bounced toward my car.
I dove for them.
But Lucas was too fast. He dropped to his knees and scooped my keys into his hand.
As I stood over him, gasping for breath, an ugly smile crossed his face. He raised the keys, just out of my reach. “Look what I found. Guess you’re not going anywhere.”
35
Poppy Narrates
I swiped my hand forward and made a grab for my keys. He tugged his hand back, and I missed.
Lucas laughed, his crazy eyes flashing, and jumped to his feet. He had my scarf and my keys. The whole thing seemed like a joke to him. That lopsided smile didn’t leave his face.
“Give me the keys—” I choked out.
He moved forward and backed me against the side of my car. He pressed himself against me, pushing hard. No way to escape.
I froze in panic. How crazy was he? How dangerous? What was he going to do to me?
I uttered a short cry of surprise when he pressed the car keys into my hand. “See? I’m a nice guy. I can be a nice guy, too.”
I pushed him back. “Just go away, Lucas. Please.”
His head drooped. He took a few awkward steps back. Just enough to let me edge to the car door. I pulled it open and practically leaped inside. I saw him wrapping my scarf around one hand. I slammed the door shut and locked it.
My hand shook so hard, it took three tries to press the start button. The car started up with a roar.
I shoved it into reverse. I started to back out of the spot—then slammed the brake hard. Lucas stood behind the car. I watched him in the mirror. He waved my scarf in front of him.
I sent the window rolling down. “Get out of my way! Let me go, Lucas.”
He laughed that ugly laugh again. He didn’t move.
“Get out of the way. I’ll run you over. I swear I will.”
“Try it!” he called back.
“Come on, Lucas. Move!”
“Poppy, do you want to go out some time?” he asked.
“Are you crazy?”
“Is that a no?”
I hit the gas pedal and backed the car up, swinging the wheel, hoping to miss him.
“Whoooooaaah!” He screamed as the car backed into him. I stopped and watched in the mirror as he scrambled onto the trunk. He hunched on his hands
and knees on the trunk. I shot the car forward, and he went tumbling off.
I didn’t wait to see if he was okay. My tires screeched as I spun the car to the narrow driveway, and I sped out of the garage, deep shudders running down my body, the car squealing from side to side, my trembling hands not really in control.
That creep. That stupid creep.
Did he really ask me out after terrifying me?
He backed me against my car and stole my scarf. And then he asked me out.
Is he totally out of his mind?
Somehow I made it home. I was shaking the whole way and fighting back tears. I didn’t want to cry. I was more angry than upset.
I just wanted to get to my room, and close my eyes, and try not to think, and let the shudders end. But Heather stopped me in the living room.
She sat on the couch with her stockinged feet on the coffee table, her laptop balanced on her lap. She looked up from the glow of the screen as I entered the room.
“How was your new job?”
“The job is okay,” I said. Then I sighed. “But I had a little problem. That creep from Harlow’s store. Lucas. He followed me into the garage behind the office. He . . . he practically attacked me. I think he just wanted to frighten me. I don’t know. I don’t know what he thought he was doing. He kept saying he liked me. It was awful.”
I dropped down on the couch beside Heather. I suddenly felt so weary. I guess it was all the adrenaline letting down.
Heather patted my leg. “Wow. That’s scary. What did you do?”
“I . . . I almost backed my car over him. It was a nightmare!”
She shook her head. “How awful.”
“I—I don’t know how dangerous he is,” I stammered.
Heather closed her laptop. “Want to hear something weird? Someone at school said they saw Keith hanging out with Lucas. Like they were real buddies or something.”
I frowned. “That can’t be true. Keith would never hang with a loser like Lucas. That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s what I heard.”
“No way. Your friend has got to be kidding. Keith would hate Lucas.”
Heather shoved her glasses up on her nose. “Oh. I almost forgot. Ivy called here. She was trying to reach you.”
I squinted at my sister. “Ivy called here? Why didn’t she call my phone?”
“She said she kept getting voicemail. Like you wouldn’t pick up.”
I pulled my phone out of my bag. It was dead. Completely out of power. Probably why Ivy didn’t get through.
“I don’t want to talk to her anyway,” I said.
“She told me she misses you. She wants to make up with you.”
“It isn’t going to happen,” I said. “All of my friends are dead to me. They totally messed with my head, and I’m going to pay them back.”
“Poppy, Ivy has been your friend for years,” Heather said. “And now you’re planning some kind of revenge against her? What are you going to do?”
“Something terrible,” I said. “I don’t know what yet. But it will be terrible.”
36
Ivy Narrates
I sat on Jeremy’s lap, the lights dimmed in the den. I had the music from the wall speakers on low so I wouldn’t disturb my parents, who had already gone to bed.
Jeremy held me tightly, and our mouths pressed together in a long kiss that was already making me breathless. I took a short break, then slid my hands over his cheeks and pulled his face back to mine.
I wondered if he could tell that I had something else on my mind. I kept glancing at the clock on the mantel and thinking about my ten o’clock visitor.
Yes, I’d invited Poppy over after her job at the taxi company. I’d finally reached her and finally got her to agree to let me apologize. I was nervous, totally stressed because I didn’t know what I was going to say.
The prank we played on Poppy was mean and stupid. Why had we let Jack persuade us that it would be funny, that Poppy would think it was funny? We should have stood up to him. We should have told him he was going too far.
Also, Jack had never told us that Rose was involved. We never knew that she was behind the whole thing, that Jack was just doing it for her.
We actually thought Jack and Poppy were together. We had no idea that Jack was just playing with her, that he was loyal to Rose the whole time.
We were stupid. What were we thinking?
And now, I really couldn’t concentrate on Jeremy. I had to figure out what to say to Poppy, my oldest friend.
I ran my hand through Jeremy’s hair. Then I pulled away. “You’ll never guess who dropped by,” I said. “Keith. You just missed him.”
Jeremy blinked. “Keith? He was here? Why?”
“I’m not sure. I think he wanted to talk about Poppy. He was only here for a few minutes. It was totally awkward.”
“Yeah. Weird,” Jeremy agreed. He leaned forward and kissed me again.
“You’ve got to go,” I said. “Sorry. I want to talk to Poppy alone.”
He blinked a few times. “Poppy?”
I nodded. “I told you. She’ll be here any minute.”
He put his hands on my waist and helped me to my feet. I straightened the short skirt I was wearing over black tights.
“Ivy, what are you going to say to her?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know. Guess I’ll just drop to my knees and beg her forgiveness.”
He stood up. “Don’t you want me to stay? We can both apologize together.”
“No.” I gave him a gentle push. “Get going. This has to be between Poppy and me. If I can get her to forgive me, she’ll forgive you, too.”
Jeremy kissed me on the cheek, then turned and made his way to the front door. I walked to the bathroom across from my room and used the mirror to straighten my hair. I brushed out a few tangles and swept it one way, then the other. I don’t know why I was spending so much time on my hair. Poppy didn’t care what I looked like.
The sound of the doorbell made me jump. I dropped my hairbrush onto the floor. As I walked to the front door, I could feel my hands go cold and my stomach tighten.
I suddenly wished I had planned what I was going to say. But Poppy and I had been friends for so long, I thought we could just talk the way we always had. Comfortable, like old friends.
Wow, was I wrong.
When I pulled the front door open, there she was, in a dark top, a gray patterned scarf hanging loosely from her neck, and black short shorts, her face already twisted into an angry scowl. She didn’t say hello or anything. She just asked if she could use my bathroom.
I led her down the hall to the bathroom. We didn’t say a word to each other as we walked. I waited for her in my room, perched on the edge of my bed. She was gone a long time. When she finally appeared in the doorway, she said, “I can’t stay.”
“Please,” I said, motioning to the green leather armchair against the window. “Just sit down for a minute so I can apologize to you.”
She stood stubbornly in the doorway. “Apologize? Are you joking?”
“Please. Give me a chance.” I motioned to the chair again.
I knew Poppy had a temper. I was in Lefty’s the night she smashed the cheeseburger into Rose Groban’s face. But she also could be warm and funny, and was the most enthusiastic person I knew. If she was into something or someone, she was in all the way.
So far, I wasn’t feeling any warmth.
“I just want to say—” I started.
She raised a hand. “Save it.”
“You’re not even going to give me a chance to say I’m sorry?”
She shook her head. “You just said it. Can I go now?”
I jumped to my feet and took a few steps toward her. “Why are you acting like this? How long have we been friends, Poppy? How long? Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“No, it doesn’t,” she said. She stepped forward, as if to challenge me. “What kind of friend betrays another friend?”
“Betra
ys?” I cried.
“Betrays and humiliates. How could you go along with that prank, Ivy? How could you? You had to know it would be the worst night of my life.”
“I . . . I didn’t know,” I stammered. “Jack had us all convinced—”
“Shut up about Jack,” she snapped. “Just shut up. You have a brain. No one forced you to do it. Jack didn’t force you. You agreed to it. You agreed to it and you know it.”
“Poppy, listen—” She had her fists clenched. Was she really planning to fight me? To hurt me? “You’re right,” I said, my throat suddenly tight. “It was terrible. I was terrible. I should have known better. But I want to apologize now. I want us to get past it. Can’t we start all new?”
She laughed a cold laugh.
“Pitiful,” she said. “Start all new? Ha. That’s pitiful.” She stepped up close to me. She lowered her gaze. I thought I saw tears on her cheeks. “It hurt too much, Ivy. It hurt too much. I thought . . . I thought you were my friends. But I saw what being a friend meant to you all.”
“I . . . I can be a good friend.” I didn’t want to cry, but hot tears were running down my cheeks now. “Poppy, I can be a good friend.”
She spun away. “I . . . I don’t think so.”
I stood there, trembling, tears rolling down my face, and listened to her footsteps as she made her way down the hall. I heard the front door slam, and I still didn’t move.
We had been so close, such good pals. And I had ruined it by going along with Jack’s stupid prank. How was I supposed to know that he and Rose had dreamed it up? How were any of us to know?
I stood there in my room with my fists clenched and my head spinning. My stomach felt like I had swallowed a rock. I wanted to climb into bed and pull the covers over my head.
“I guess that’s it,” I said aloud. “I’ve lost my best friend.”
I wiped the tears on my cheeks with both hands. Then I started to pull off my clothes. I knew there was only one way to calm myself. The only thing that ever calms me is a good, long shower.
I crossed the hall to my bathroom and got my shower going. It takes a while for the water to get hot. I fluffed my hair out with my hands and grabbed the shampoo bottle I keep on my sink.