Fright Night

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Fright Night Page 6

by Maren Stoffels


  “That it’s never going to work between Nell and you.”

  “Because she’s a neighbor?”

  “Exactly.” Sandy stops and puts his hands on my shoulders. I can hardly look into his yellow eyes. It’s like I’m being hypnotized.

  “I’m doing this for you, Kelly. I just don’t want that girl to hurt you.”

  “She won’t.”

  “All the neighbors are the same. They’re there to help us and to keep an eye on us. They’re above us.”

  “Nell’s not like that. You weren’t there on Monday. She was totally flirting with me!”

  “How?”

  I don’t want to tell him, but I have to. Sandy needs to understand that Nell’s different.

  “She bit her bottom lip, she laughed at my jokes, she—”

  “Then you should have kissed her,” Sandy says, interrupting me. “That way you’d have known for certain.”

  “Don’t be dumb.”

  “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  “Of course, but—”

  “So when are you going to do it? When you’re forty? You saw how smoothly it went with Melody just now.”

  “I’m not you.”

  “We’re more alike than you think.”

  “No, we are not. And it’s you who’s causing problems here!”

  Sandy sighs. “Problems are what we’re made of, Kelly. Get that into your skull.”

  “Nell doesn’t see it like that. She thinks I’m normal, even after I told her about the past.”

  Sandy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Did you tell her about…”

  I nod. “I said I destroyed someone’s life because of hate.”

  Sandy shakes his head. “You know it’s the other way around too.”

  “Says you.”

  “It’s what you should be saying as well. You did what you did for a reason.”

  I know Sandy and I aren’t going to agree about this, but at the same time it feels good that he always defends me. As he has since day one.

  “Anyway, Nell said we’ve all done stuff we’re not proud of. She actually reacted really well.”

  Sandy gives me a skeptical look. “So she didn’t run away screaming?”

  “Nope,” I say. “Do you see that Nell’s different now?”

  Then Sandy’s face clouds over. He’s looking at a point behind me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  When I turn around, I see a group of people walking among the trees. Right at the back, I see someone I recognize even by the glow of a single flashlight.

  I feel my eyes widening. “Nell…”

  SOFIA

  Dylan just stood there. While that crazy girl waved the chainsaw around, he just stood there. Luckily, I was able to pull him away in time, or otherwise the teeth of the chainsaw could have hit him.

  I look at Dylan as he follows Quin and Martin. He’s hardly said another word since the chainsaw. What was going on inside his head? It seemed like he was in shock. I see that he’s dragging his right leg. Looks like he’s in pain.

  “Let’s take a break,” I call over to them.

  Martin turns around in surprise. “What? Now?”

  “Just a quick one.” I drop down beside Nell, but I can’t take my eyes off Dylan. He’s just staring ahead, while Quin and Martin are talking about the next zone.

  What’s wrong with him?

  “Are you worried?” asks Nell.

  I look up. “A bit.”

  “What happened?”

  “He stood there. He was completely out of it, and he didn’t even react to his own name.”

  “I think he’s kind of special.”

  Strangely, the way Nell says it doesn’t sound like an insult at all.

  “Yeah, he is. Dylan’s a pretty private person. He doesn’t like talking about himself and sometimes I have no idea where I stand with him.” I’m shocked by my own words. It feels like I’m betraying Dylan. “I don’t mean that in a bad way,” I say quickly.

  Nell smiles. “I know.”

  “Some things just aren’t…right, though.” I fiddle with my bracelet. “He tells lies.”

  “What about?”

  When I hesitate, Nell puts her hand on my arm. “I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

  “His leg,” I say. “He told you it was a hockey stick, but he told me a completely different story. When I just confronted him about it, he got really twitchy.”

  Nell nods. “I know those kinds of lies. Sometimes they forget what they’ve said themselves.”

  “They?”

  Nell smiles. “The kids at the housing complex where I live.”

  I look at Dylan again, who’s still staring at the ground in front of him. It’s maybe a bit of an exaggeration to compare him to those problem kids, but there’s definitely something going on with him. Something he doesn’t show to me, maybe not even to Quin.

  * * *

  ■ ■ ■

  We have to keep going, or the next group will catch up with us. Dylan is walking beside me again, but he’s still not saying anything.

  The relaxed atmosphere between us has pretty much evaporated. I want to talk to him, but how do I start?

  Hey, Dylan, I was just wondering. Have you ever been really, really sick?

  I put my hands in the pockets of my denim jacket. Through the fabric, I can feel something jabbing into my skin. The photo and postcard from Dylan’s old house are still in there. The words on the card go through my head again.

  One day I’m going to kill you.

  Maybe the postcard was meant for him. Maybe there’s a whole world around Dylan that I know nothing about.

  I shake off that idea. It makes no sense. Everyone has secrets, don’t they? It’s not a crime for Dylan not to tell me everything.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Dylan looks at me expectantly, and I realize he must be talking to me.

  “With me? Nothing. Why?” My voice squeaks a bit. You see, we all lie.

  “You look worried.” Dylan’s expression is guilty now. “Sorry if I gave you a fright.”

  “It’s okay. I get that you were just shocked.”

  Maybe I should let it go. What if I drive him away again with my questions? I decide to change the subject.

  “You going to see your mom tomorrow?”

  Dylan looks at me in surprise. “Of course.”

  “So where do you actually go when you visit her?”

  “You know, just back home.”

  It’s like he fired a bullet at me. Home? Gerda said she’s been looking after the house while Dylan’s mom is away! Dylan doesn’t know that I know, but now I’m sure he’s been lying about other things too.

  And the way he does it, so easily—that hurts.

  “What about your dad?” Quin told me Dylan doesn’t have any contact with his dad. But I’ve never dared ask about it before.

  I can barely hear the answer, but Dylan says, “My dad was a douche.”

  I look at him. Dylan’s eyes are glinting in a way I’ve never seen before.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Fathers are supposed to take care of their kids. Well, he didn’t. I never knew him.”

  I can hear the tension in his voice. This time Dylan’s not lying. I’m certain of that.

  “And your mom? Do you miss her?”

  “Children should be with their mothers, shouldn’t they?”

  I nod. “So…what’s wrong with her?”

  “Cancer.”

  The word sounds so harsh coming out of his mouth. It’s like a curse. Such a serious sickness—is that what Dylan had too? The thought of him spending all that time at home in bed—it hits me hard. He shouldn’t be carrying something like that all by himself. He should b
e able to talk about it. He can trust me.

  “I’d like to go with you tomorrow,” I say.

  Dylan stops in his tracks. “Why?”

  He sounds almost defensive.

  “I…I’d like to meet her.”

  That’s not so weird, is it? Dylan comes to my place all the time.

  “That…that’s not going to work. She’s sick.” Dylan reaches for his glasses. That tic he has when he’s nervous.

  “Another time, then?” I suggest.

  “Yeah…yeah, sure.” Dylan speeds up and goes to walk with Quin. He clearly can’t get away from me quickly enough. He’s running away from me.

  I don’t get it. Dylan’s answers seem so random, like they’re about someone else, not him.

  Sometimes they forget what they’ve said themselves.

  I thought Nell was exaggerating before, but now I’m not so sure.

  Dylan laughs out loud at something Quin says. He can switch, just like that. Why have I never noticed that before? I think he’s hiding so much that he’s lost track. That’s why he gives such strange answers that don’t match up.

  What does this mean? Something is going on with him. I’m sure of it. My gut feeling doesn’t lie.

  Dylan could well be wearing the best mask this Fright Night.

  MURDERER

  Insect Zone.

  A shiver ran down my spine when I saw those words.

  Did you feel the same?

  Looking back, I’m not so sure.

  Maybe the shiver wasn’t because of the words at all,

  but because I felt something was going to happen.

  I think your death was already hanging in the air at that point.

  DYLAN

  Why did Sofia suddenly start talking about my family? She even wants to go see Mom.

  Another time, then, she suggested, but there’s no way that can happen. I really need to be more careful with the answers I give. I’m getting sloppy. She’s already realized I’ve been telling different stories about my leg, and she could soon discover a lot more.

  * * *

  —

  “I have something for you.” Mom comes into my room with a case in her hand. She takes out a pair of glasses with round frames. It was an old pair of hers. She’s been wearing lenses for years.

  “F-for me?” I stammer. When Eliza had mentioned glasses, Mom got mad. So why is she giving me glasses now? Mom puts the glasses in my hands. “Give them a try?”

  Reluctantly, I put them on. My room becomes blurry.

  “Excellent,” I hear Mom say. “From now on, you can wear them every day.”

  * * *

  —

  “We’re here.” Quin grins. He points at a board above our heads with the words INSECT ZONE written on it in curly letters.

  The second zone of the night. All that stuff with the chainsaw and the conversation with Sofia has tired me out. All I really want to do is turn around and go back to the entrance, but then a woman suddenly looms out of the darkness. She’s wearing an apron covered in nasty stains and she has a chef’s hat on her head. In her hands is a plastic box with a lid on it.

  “Twelve hundred crickets wouldn’t fit in there,” I hear Quin joke.

  I glance at Sofia, who’s clinging to Nell. The two of them are standing as far away from the woman as they can.

  What’s the likelihood they both put insects as one of their fears? Now I can’t leave. I have to help Sofia, like she just helped me. It’s not her fault I have so many secrets to remember.

  “Did someone say something?” The woman looks at us, one by one. When no one reacts, she gives a satisfied nod. “Because when I’m speaking, you guys keep quiet. Got it?”

  Quin chuckles quietly. “Is she always this bad?”

  “Shut your mouth! You might think this is all a fun night out, but it isn’t. You’re in the chef’s kitchen now—and you’re going to regret ever signing up for Fright Night.”

  We all fall silent. Strangely, I forget that we’re dealing with an actress. This woman really seems angry.

  I look at the box in her hands. What could be in there?

  “My name’s Marouska.” The chef looks at us. “And which of you is…Sofia?”

  I curse to myself. If what the reviews say is true, and it gets worse from zone to zone, then Sofia is in for something pretty nasty.

  Sofia doesn’t respond.

  “Sofia?” repeats Marouska.

  Still no reaction. I see Quin give her a nudge, but Sofia still refuses to step forward. Does she think she’s going to get away with it that easily?

  “I cooked something specially for you.” Marouska takes off the lid and I hear little legs scratching away inside the box. What’s in there?

  I stand on tiptoe, but then I hear Nell’s voice behind me. “Cockroaches.”

  Marouska looks at Nell and Sofia. “One of you is Sofia. And you aren’t going anywhere until you’ve tasted my special entrée.”

  Tasted? She’s got to be kidding. I once watched this TV show where the participants had to eat live insects, but never cockroaches. Just the thought of it makes me want to puke.

  As Marouska lowers the box, I see dozens of cockroaches climbing over each other. She’s getting impatient. When there’s still no reaction from Sofia, she threateningly takes out her walkie-talkie.

  “Do you want to quit?” She presses a button.

  “Hello?” says a voice at the other end.

  “I have group number six here. They’re quitting.”

  I see Quin signaling to Sofia. He doesn’t want to stop. Fright Night’s not even halfway through.

  “Come on,” says Martin quietly. “These tickets were so expensive.”

  What a dumb thing to say! I’m about to stick up for Sofia, but then she steps forward.

  “Okay. I’m Sofia.”

  Marouska puts the walkie-talkie to her mouth. “False alarm.”

  She puts away the walkie-talkie and looks at Sofia, all smiles now. “Good. I hope you’re hungry.”

  The cockroaches in the box are getting twitchier, like they sense what’s about to happen.

  I can’t watch this. Sofia’s terrified—she has been since the beginning of Fright Night. Does she really have to do this?

  Sofia takes off her jacket. Her hands get stuck in the sleeves and she frantically shakes it off. Then she slowly moves her hand toward the box. Her fingers are shaking.

  It feels like I’m watching myself as I wait for the next shot, the next test, the next doctor. Sofia’s going to have nightmares about this for months. She’s going to wake up in a cold sweat, just like me, over and over again.

  I can’t let that happen to her, can I?

  * * *

  —

  “Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” Mom is already sitting at the breakfast table when I come downstairs.

  I’d deliberately left the glasses on my bedside table. The strength of the lenses gave me a thumping headache.

  “Don’t lie to me,” Mom says. “You know I hate liars.”

  “I forgot them,” I say.

  Mom slaps me again. It’s like her hand has left a permanent impression.

  “Go get your glasses. Now.”

  * * *

  —

  On an impulse, I lean forward and reach into the box.

  Then, without thinking about it, I stuff the cockroach into my mouth.

  SOFIA

  “No!” But my voice is lost in the moment.

  “Don’t forget to chew,” I hear Marouska say.

  There’s a cracking sound. The cockroach’s shell breaks between Dylan’s teeth.

  What’s he doing? This was my fear, not his.

  Dylan chews almost rhythmically with his eyes closed, and then swal
lows the bug. The Insect Zone is completely silent. Even Marouska isn’t saying anything. Then Dylan opens his eyes and looks at me. We stare at each other for a couple of seconds and I see his cheeks flush. He did that for me.

  “Um, g-great…awesome,” stammers Marouska, who seems to have forgotten the part she’s playing. “I guess you can, um, continue.”

  * * *

  ■ ■ ■

  “You are brilliant. And crazy.” Quin slaps Dylan on the shoulder, with a big grin on his face. “What did it taste like? Like a big old booger?”

  Dylan shakes his head. “Kind of nutty. But with legs.”

  Martin shudders. “You have gone insane. You just ate a live cockroach, man!”

  “Yup. I know.”

  I want to thank Dylan, but how can I ever thank him enough? It feels like he just saved my life by taking on my task.

  What if I’d had to eat that cockroach? How could I have done it? I’d never have dared, no matter how hard Martin was pushing because of the expensive tickets. Eating a live cockroach is going way too far. Those little legs tickling your tongue…I shiver. I bet loads of groups get stuck at this stage.

  Nell nudges me. “Where’s your jacket?”

  I realize I’m walking around with bare arms. “Oh no, what an idiot. I forgot it.”

  “What’s up?” Quin looks back.

  “Sofia forgot her jacket.”

  “I’ll go fetch it.” Dylan takes the flashlight from Martin and jogs off. It’s like the cockroach gave him new energy.

  “Back soon,” he calls.

  DYLAN

  I did it. I just went and did it.

  The cockroach didn’t taste nutty. It was gross. But I did it for her. The way Sofia looked at me when I’d swallowed the cockroach made it all worthwhile. She looked at me like I was her hero.

  I head back to the Insect Zone as quickly as I can. Our flashlight is acting up. I slap it a few times, but it keeps flickering.

  “You again?” Marouska smiles. “You want another one?”

 

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