“I didn’t know that,” Amanda pleaded. “I didn’t want to ruin the building. And I never wanted Mr. Gray to get hurt. Never in a million years. I didn’t even want Zane to be in deep trouble. Just enough that he couldn’t go to the dance.”
“You should’ve told the truth right away,” Mr. Plati said. “Because now you’re the one in deep trouble.”
Mr. Plati asked Mrs. Haymon, Darcy, and me to step outside while he called Amanda’s parents. Mrs. Haymon had to go, but Darcy and I thanked her profusely for her help, and she thanked us for being so persistent in our research.
As Darcy and I stood in the hall, I couldn’t believe it had all come together. Zane’s suspension was over, but Amanda was about to get a new one — big time.
A few minutes later, Mr. Plati came out of his office and closed the door behind him.
“Amanda’s parents will be coming now,” he said. “You girls can go on your way. I’ll take it from here.”
That was good enough for me, but Darcy didn’t budge.
“Wait a second.” She tilted her head to the side and stared at the principal. “Mr. Plati, if you had the crime on video, why did you wait this long to bring that up?”
His lips tightened, fighting a smile. He whispered, “I don’t have the crime on video.”
Darcy gasped. “You bluffed?”
He laughed and turned back toward his office, saying over his shoulder, “What, you think you’re the only ones in this school who can play detective?”
Thursday night, the phone rang. I grabbed the cordless and ran into my room.
“Hello?” I said breathlessly.
“Norah? It’s Zane!”
I hadn’t heard his voice in over a week. And he sounded so happy. I thought my heart would burst. I nervously paced the room while I talked.
“I’m so glad you called,” I said. “Have you been taken off suspension?”
“Yes! And my permanent record was cleared. Principal Plati even personally apologized. And it’s all because of you.”
I felt a blush spread from my neck to my forehead. “I had help,” I said.
“Still. You never gave up.” He grew quiet, and the silence stretched on for a long moment. “Norah?”
I stopped pacing and stood perfectly still. “Yes?”
“There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for a while.”
I had to remind myself to breathe. “Okay …”
“Will, um … will you go to the dance with me?”
I flopped backward onto the bed and kicked my feet in the air. I tried to keep my voice cool and answered, “Yes, I will!”
I didn’t even squeal or scream.
Until I hung up the phone.
I spent Saturday at the gym, blowing up balloons and hanging decorations with Maya, Fiona, and the rest of the Dance Committee. Well, everyone except Amanda, who’d been suspended and might end up expelled. We didn’t know what the police were going to do, but rumor had it her parents made her apologize to Mr. Gray and grounded her to the age of, like, forty. While we decorated, it was all anyone talked about. Even Violet was shocked by her friend’s crazy behavior.
After finishing up at the gym, I went home, showered, and started to get ready. Darcy came over, and we blasted music and sang into hairbrush microphones. “What do you think?” Darcy asked once she was ready. She gave a twirl. Her dress was black with a purple ribbon around the waist. And she wore her big black boots, of course.
“It’s perfectly Darcy,” I said, smiling.
I held my hands out and did a twirl of my own. I’d gone last-minute shopping at the mall with Fiona the night before and picked up a new dress and matching flats. The dress was silver with sparkling sequins on the bodice and a layered skirt that came to my knees. Fiona chose it and told me it would shimmer under the lighting.
“And that one,” Darcy said, pointing at my dress, “is so Norah.”
I laughed. I couldn’t imagine any dress seeming natural on me. “How so?” I asked.
Darcy smiled. “It looks like it’s made of stardust.”
My mom dropped Darcy and me off at school. As we walked toward the gymnasium door, anxiety hit me like a wall of cold water. Somewhere in there was Zane, waiting for me. And suddenly a thousand questions shot through my head.
Do I go in and search for him? Or stand somewhere and wait for him to find me? Are we just dancing to one or two slow songs or should we hang out all night?
Uncertainty drove me crazy. This was my first dance; I had no idea what I was doing!
“Hey, stress ball,” Darcy said, nudging me with her shoulder. “Chill out. Tonight’s going to rock.”
And with that, she pushed open the door and all my worries evaporated into space.
I’d been there in the gym this afternoon, hanging decorations. But the lights had been on bright, and it hadn’t looked like this. Now, with the lights dimmed and everything pulled together … the gym had been transformed.
The glow-in-the-dark stars lit up the walls. Shimmering cutouts of planets and moons hung from the ceiling. Glow bracelets dangling from kids’ wrists added a cool touch.
Darcy went to get a cup of punch, and I stood peering through the dim light, looking for Zane. I felt a soft tap on my shoulder and turned around with a giant smile.
To face Hunter Fisk.
“Oh, hi, Hunter,” I said, trying not to sound disappointed.
“Hey, Norah.” He scratched nervously at the back of his head. “Uh, I have to, um, confess something.”
Well, this seemed to be the week for confessions. “Okay,” I said warily.
His eyes darted back and forth, and he said in a hushed tone, “Slade and I painted that stuff on the dance banner.”
“‘The Prom Killer is back’? You wrote that? Why?”
“We wanted to help,” he said. “We figured if people thought it was the Prom Killer coming back, that it would take the attention away from Zane.”
It had terrified our classmates and nearly gotten the dance canceled altogether, but I guess it was the thought that counted. Hunter and Slade were only trying to help. “Thanks, I guess,” I said with a half smile.
But Hunter didn’t walk away. He looked down at his shoes and scuffed at the hardwood floor.
“Was there something else?” I prodded.
“Um …” A blush rose on his cheeks. “Do you think … if I asked Darcy to dance … would she say yes or punch me in the face?”
I thought about it for a moment. There had been a few times lately when Darcy seemed a bit … funny when the topic of Hunter came up. I grinned. “Go for it, Hunter.”
He smiled and dashed off to Darcy’s side. I stood still and watched to be sure my instinct was correct.
She didn’t punch him.
Fiona was flirting with some cute boy, Maya was having a blast with a few other girls from the Dance Committee, and now Darcy was slow dancing with, of all people, Hunter Fisk. Everyone seemed to be having a great time.
“Excuse me?” said a voice behind me. “Would you like to dance?”
I slowly turned. Zane stood looking totally handsome in khaki pants and a white button-down shirt. And he had his hand out, waiting for mine. For a moment, I thought my heart would explode. But instead I just nodded yes and followed him to the middle of the gym floor.
It had only been a week and a half since I’d last seen him, but it seemed like forever. And now we were about to dance. I’d never danced with a boy before. A wave of anxiety rushed over me. What if I step on his foot? Where do I put my hands? Should we talk? What should I say?
But then I put my hands on his shoulders. I recognized the song as one of my favorites. We did this sway-shuffle thing that certainly wasn’t graceful. But I realized it didn’t matter. Zane’s smile lit up his whole face, and I’m sure mine matched.
I felt like I was dancing in space, surrounded by stars and planets. It was like something from a beautiful dream, but it was really happening. I thought for a
moment about how it had all come so close to not happening. All because of the same problem. Jealousy had nearly ruined my friendship with Darcy. It had caused Helen to become the Prom Killer. And it turned Amanda’s feelings for Zane into rage with almost deadly consequences. Jealousy is no good. I vowed to never feel that way about Zane, Darcy, or anyone.
“Are you having a good time?” Zane asked, and his eyes seemed to twinkle like stars themselves.
My heart fluttered. “I feel like I’m in a fairy tale.”
He shook his head and chuckled.
“What?” I asked, feeling my cheeks flush.
Zane turned serious. “I was in a whole lot of trouble and things were looking pretty hopeless. But you were so smart, brave, and determined. You figured out the truth. If this is a fairy tale, Norah Burridge, then you’re the hero.”
I smiled, and my heart felt like it was going to spin out and orbit the room. “The princess saves the prince,” I said. “I like it.”
After the song ended, Zane offered to go get us punch. Darcy strolled up to me, grinning. “Is it as perfect as you imagined?”
“Even more so,” I said breathlessly.
Darcy grinned at me. “Partners in Crime did it again.”
I grinned back. We almost hadn’t made it this time, in more ways than one. But things were looking up now. Our friendship was stronger than ever. We righted a wrong. And I was so full of pride and happiness. It was one of those evenings where I felt like anything could happen.
Darcy shook her head. “I can’t believe that when we argued, I said Partners in Crime was ‘over.’ That’s ridiculous. We’re just too good.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “I know,” I said. “I’m glad we got back together. And I look forward to our next case!”
“To teamwork,” Darcy said, holding her fist out.
“To best friends forever,” I said, and bumped it.
On the professional side, I would like to thank my agent, Scott Miller; my editor, Aimee Friedman; and the Scholastic crew — Lauren Felsenstein, Nikki Mutch, Becky Shapiro, Jackie Hornberger, Tim Hall, and Yaffa Jaskoll. Also props to Erwin Madrid for the incredible cover illustrations.
On the personal end, thanks to:
My friend Josh Plati, for answering all my school questions.
My son, Ryan, for making me laugh and making me proud.
Mike, my parents, and Susan, for listening to all my crazy plot ideas. And for putting up with me when I’m … well … crazy.
Local friends and kids in town, for being so excited about this series.
And, most of all, thanks to you. Yes, YOU. Without readers there would be no writers. And all these characters would just be stuck in my head with nothing to do.
“The girls in the dorm room next to yours are mean. Really mean.” Sam grimaced as they walked by a purple-painted door decorated with three cutout gold stars. Each star had a name on it: Brooke. Betsy. Brenda.
“‘Zom-Bs,’” Megan read the big letters printed above the names.
“My advice,” Sam said, “is to ignore them. Fly under their radar. The Bs are nasty.”
Megan thought about Brett’s sister, Hailey Hansen, and her gang of mean girls. “Gotcha,” Megan told Sam. “I know girls like that at home.”
“We all do,” Sam said with a sigh.
He knocked on a plain brown wooden door. “Home sweet home.”
The girl who answered the door wore a black dress with black shoes and tights. Her hair was dyed black. Her eyeliner was black and so was her eye shadow. Even her lipstick was black. She looked like a vampire, not like someone with zombitus.
“Hey-ya, Happy,” Sam said as if the girl’s appearance was totally normal. “Do any painting today?”
Happy didn’t seem very happy. She sulked across the room and turned an easel to show Sam a fresh canvas.
“Finished it,” she said in a voice that sounded like Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh.
The painting was, well, black. Completely black to the edges of the canvas.
“Wow!” Sam exclaimed. “That’s one of your best!”
Happy moaned. “It’s not very good.”
Sam turned to Megan. “Picasso had his blue stage. Happy’s in a darker phase.”
“I call this one Midnight,” Happy explained.
Megan could see how the title fit. “It’s … pretty,” she said.
“Thanks,” Happy muttered, stepping away from the canvas. She pointed to a twin bed on the other side of the room. “That’s yours. The mattress is lumpy.”
Megan could have guessed which bed was hers. It had white sheets and yellow covers, whereas the other bed … all black.
“I’m sure it will be comfortable,” Megan said, trying to stay upbeat.
“No,” Happy replied. “It won’t.”
Megan let out a huge sigh. She assured herself everything would be okay. Zach had told her that zombies didn’t sleep much, anyway.
Becky climbed out of bed. The floor was cold against her feet as she moved hesitantly toward the window, following the sound. When she looked out the window, the scene was shadowy, but lit by the full moon.
Maybe there was a stray cat or lost dog in the McNally yard, as Becky’s parents had suggested. She peered down into the patch of the house next door that she could see through her window. The whining was a little louder now, and irregular. Not the sound of the porch swing creaking or a branch rubbing against the house, but definitely some kind of animal. Becky pressed her forehead against the cold window pane, trying to see.
Something moved in the shadows on the other side of the fence.
It was a huddled shape below one of the evergreen trees in the McNally yard. As Becky watched, it moved a little farther into the moonlight.
Was it a cat, after all? It seemed like it might be cat-size, but the shape didn’t seem quite right. The tail was too short, the body looked off somehow. It was moving stiffly, not with the smooth glide of a hunting cat.
The animal raised its head and looked right at Becky. Its eyes flashed a sick, glowing yellowish green.
Instinctively, she moved back, away from the window. Had it seen her? Her heart pounded and she felt like she couldn’t catch her breath. Panic bubbled inside her.
Suddenly, she gagged. There was a horrible smell coming from somewhere. From outside? A smell like rotting meat. It smelled like … death.
The smell couldn’t be coming from the animal — it was just a stray in the yard next door, right? But maybe it was sick and needed help. And the flash of glowing eyes must just have been a reflection of light from somewhere, maybe of the moonlight. Steeling herself, she moved back to the window and looked out again.
Becky gazed down into the McNally yard. She scanned the shadows and the patches of moonlit ground, but, whatever the creature had been, it was gone. The smell lingered, although it seemed a little weaker now, and Becky’s stomach turned over.
The animal, whatever it was, had seen her with its glowing eyes. Becky knew it on some level. Wrapping her arms around herself, she shuddered.
Kim Harrington is the author of several critically acclaimed novels for young adults. Sleuth or Dare is her first middle-grade series. She lives in Massachusetts with her family. You can visit her on the web at www.kimharringtonbooks.com.
Copyright © 2012 by Kim Harrington
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
First edition, July 2012
Cover art by Erwin Madrid
Cover design by Tim Hall
e-ISBN 978-0-545-44312-8
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without
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