Grim Hill: The Forgotten Secret (Grim Hill Series)

by Linda DeMeulemeester

  “Ah,” said the woman. “I see you have excellent taste. This dress is the nicest one here.” The woman stared at me – or more like at my tracksuit, and suddenly I was aware how it had faded and pilled up a bit.

  I tried to keep my expression casual as I checked out the price tag dangling from the dress strap, but my eyes almost dropped out of my head and rolled onto the floor anyway.

  A hundred and eighty dollars!

  The cost might as well have been two thousand dollars for all the chance I had of buying it. I backed away and went straight for the door, grabbing my jacket from the fancy brass coat stand. The woman didn’t seem surprised. Before I’d even zipped up my coat, I flung open the door as the bell clanged as if to say, “Get out of here!” and I rushed out into the gloom.

  When I got home I checked my closet, but my old dress wasn’t hanging there. I searched my dresser drawers.

  “Mom,” I called downstairs. “What happened to my nice dress?”

  “And hello to you too,” Mom called back. “Ask Sookie.”

  Before I could step out of my room, Sookie appeared at my door with her hamster, Buddy, gently cradled in the crook of her arm. “It’s my dress now,” Sookie said in a possessive way. “It’s in my closet.”

  “You’re way too small for it,” I said as I shook my head. “You won’t fit into it until you’re at least eleven, so it’s still mine for two more years.”

  Sookie crossed her arms and huffed, “But Mom said – ”

  “Fine,” I cut her off. I had to approach this differently. Sookie was stubborn. “Can I borrow it for a school dance? It’s not like you’ll be needing it anytime soon.”

  Sookie’s expression brightened and she said, “Sure, Cat.”

  Once I tried it on though, she looked at me and said, “I don’t think it does you justice.” She shook her head sadly.

  I couldn’t zip it up and it tugged horribly at the shoulders. There was no way this dress would work for the dance.

  “Dinner’s in ten minutes,” Mom said as she walked into Sookie’s room. “And Buddy’s not invited. He has to have his dinner in the hamster cage.” She took one look at the clothes and toys scattered as if a tornado had swept through, and she raised her eyebrows. But she didn’t complain. “What’s up with you two?” she asked, seeing me shrink-wrapped in the bright blue dress two sizes too small.

  “Our school’s having a dance,” I mumbled, thinking, Great, Cat, once more you’ve come up with a way to make your life even more miserable. It wasn’t just that this dress looked horrible on me – I couldn’t even move in it.

  “Hmm … ” Mom started checking the seams and zipper. “Maybe I could let this out some.”

  “No!” squealed Sookie. “Then I’ll never fit into it.”

  “There’s probably not a big enough hem.” Mom and Sookie fussed as I just stood there thinking it wasn’t a very sophisticated color anyway.

  “Maybe I could buy some new material.” Mom got that worried tone in her voice again. “How long before the dance?”

  “Valentine’s,” I said shrugging my shoulders. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Does it have to be a dress? Maybe I could make you a more practical outfit,” Mom said. “A skirt and top that you could wear on more occasions.”

  “That could work,” I said, thinking that wasn’t what I wanted at all.

  *

  Over the weekend I rode my bike past Esmeralda’s shop three times and stared at that dress through the window. It was weird, but I saw it as a ticket back to my old life. The third time, I spotted some of the girls, Amanda included, looking at the dresses. I saw Amanda jump for joy when her mother nodded at a really exquisite red dress, even after she saw the price tag. I left before they spotted me.

  Shaking my head, I realized how stupid I was. A dress doesn’t make you cool or popular. The other girls wouldn’t care if my outfit wasn’t from that shop, would they? I wondered what Mia and Amarjeet were going to wear. Besides, if Mom wanted to make me a nice new outfit, I should be happy that it would be the kind of thing I could wear often … except …

  I sighed and rode my bike home, trying to get that dress out of my mind. As I crossed the street ready to turn down my block, I spotted a moving van. Someone new was moving into town.

  A red-haired girl – not strawberry blonde like my friend Mia’s hair, but a deep auburn that seemed to glow like burning embers – hauled a battered suitcase up the sidewalk. She seemed around my age, and I supposed Darkmont would be getting a new student. The girl smiled at me with lips so red they seemed startling against her milk-white skin, then she slipped behind the door of the ugliest house in the neighborhood. It was a rundown place that had sat empty for ages – long before my mom, sister, and I had moved to this town.

  What a strange contrast, I thought as I hopped off my bike. That girl didn’t look at all like someone who would live in a place like that. For one thing, her clothes looked expensive and elegant. It was almost as if she was in one of those kid’s picture books where you had to find what doesn’t belong.

  Small shivers raised bumps on my arms. Maybe I was getting chills because one side of the house was next to a cemetery, and the other side was covered in the dark shadow of Grim Hill. But I laughed at myself for being paranoid and then got back on my bike to ride home.

  “There’s a new girl in our neighborhood,” I announced as I strode into the kitchen. “You know that old house on the next street over?”

  Sookie was making herself a bowl of frosty oats as an after-school snack. Mom intercepted the cereal box before Sookie poured heaps in her bowl. “You’ll spoil your appetite for dinner.”

  Sookie looked mournful as she dug into the pitiful-looking pile of oats in her bowl. “Who would want to move into that decrepit house across the lane?” She shook her head. “It’s inhospitable.”

  Even though Sookie was only nine, her vocabulary was bigger than mine. Come to think of it, the words she used were bigger than those of any eighth-grader I knew.

  “You shouldn’t describe a person’s house that way,” said Mom. “We don’t exactly live in a mansion.”

  Mom sounded like she was saying more than, “Don’t judge people.” Although she never talked about it, I could tell she still felt bad we’d had to move from our own much nicer home to this old house. We weren’t exactly well-off ever since our parents divorced.

  “Oh. I’m sorry I called the house decrepit.” Sookie hung her blond head, but only for a moment. Then it bobbed up again and with widened eyes she explained, “The kids in my class say that place is haunted, and my friend Skeeter says he thinks he saw a witch in the window yesterday after school.”

  “A witch … hardly. You’ve really got it wrong this time.” I loved it when I could feel superior to my little sister. I didn’t get the chance very often. And maybe that wasn’t nice, but it only seemed fair. I was the oldest. “A girl my age moved in. I saw her down the street a few minutes ago and she didn’t look like a ghost or a witch.” Except the whole moment had given me a chill … sort of …

  But that was just me getting all worked up because I was letting what happened before on Grim Hill get in the way. Well, those nasty creatures were locked up tight, and I wasn’t going to let those stupid fairies in Grim Hill get to me anymore. So I forgot about the creepy house and the girl … that is, until Monday at school.

  A bunch of kids from both soccer teams were hanging out by my friend Jasper’s locker. All the girls had been going on and on about the dance when Clive said, “Don’t you get it? We’re going to be stuck for two weeks wasting our time on dance lessons just as every other soccer team in the competition gets two extra weeks of practice in. The dance only makes it worse.”

  “It doesn’t make it worse,” Amarjeet almost shouted. “How does it make it worse? We have to have dance lessons no matter what, so why not have an event to look forward to? Right, Cat?”

  The dance had lost some of its excitement for me ove
r the weekend, especially since there was no way I could get a new dress. Besides, I was kind of worried about not practicing soccer. Not that Clive needed any encouragement by me agreeing with him. But I nodded half-heartedly and said, “Uh huh.”

  “C’mon, Cat, be more enthusiastic,” Mia whispered to me. “We’re having a tough enough time convincing the guys as it is.”

  “Really?” I asked Jasper. “The guys aren’t interested in the dance?”

  “Well …” said Jasper. “It’s just …” I knew Jasper well and there was something worrying him.

  But before he said anything, Clive leapt in. “Chung is right. He knows no one needs this distraction.”

  “I can speak for myself,” Jasper pointed out. Except he didn’t. He just kept staring at Mia who was glaring at Mitch. Maybe I knew what was bugging him after all. If there was a dance, would Mia dance with him?

  Amanda and Emily strolled up just then. Emily said to Zach, “You’re interested in the dance, aren’t you?”

  Zach looked at the other guys and shuffled his feet before saying, “Not exactly …”

  Emily stared at Zach before saying in a surprised voice, “Seriously?” She seemed dismayed as if him not falling all over her made her think twice that maybe she did like him after all.

  Amanda jumped in with, “I’m sure some of you guys would like to dance with us, right?” as she tossed her hair over her shoulders. But none of the guys stepped up to the plate. Most of the girls began to glare at them.

  “Dancing stinks,” complained Clive.

  “Just don’t mention that to the teachers,” I warned. Didn’t those boys realize we were about to end up without any soccer team at all if we weren’t cooperative? I fumed all the way up to science class.

  In class, a firm knock rattled on the door. At first Ms. Dreeble ignored it as she finished writing her question on the board. Someone knocked again, only this time more softly – less sure. With a flip of her wrist, Ms. Dreeble pointed for Mitch to open the door. I sat perched on my lab stool as I watched the same red-haired girl I had seen in my neighborhood walk into our class and place her registration slip on Ms. Dreeble’s desk.

  Suddenly I had a flashback: Five months ago that was me standing uncomfortably in front of the room – the new kid, looking out at a sea of disinterested faces. That was pretty much the loneliest feeling a person could have.

  “Name?” Ms. Dreeble asked.

  “Lea,” said the girl in a soft, lyrical voice.

  “Full name – spell it, please.” Ms. Dreeble sounded annoyed. Funny, I knew Ms. Dreeble wasn’t really unkind, but she could be impatient, especially when her lesson was interrupted.

  “L-e-a-a-n-n. S-h-e-a,” said the girl.

  Ms. Dreeble scribbled the name on her register and told the girl to sit down. The girl glanced around the classroom as she tried to find an empty seat. She stood frozen in front of us as she wondered where to sit.

  “I said, take a seat,” said Ms. Dreeble.

  Again it was as if that was me standing there, the new kid at school, the one who felt practically invisible. I got up and tugged a lab stool from the corner of the room and pulled it to our table.

  “Sit here,” I called to her. She broke into a relieved smile and sat beside me.

  “I’m Caitlin, but everyone calls me Cat.”

  “I have the same thing with my name,” she said. “I spell it L-e-a even though it’s pronounced like ‘Lee.’”

  I smiled and said, “Lea, this is Mia and that’s – ”

  “I’m Amanda.” She shook Lea’s hand and said, “That’s the most awesome outfit I’ve ever seen.” That was high praise, because Amanda always wore clothes that looked like they’d been bought the week before, and her shoes always looked brand new. I stared at my own worn-out sneakers and slipped them behind my stool.

  “Thanks.” Lea was wearing a silky green jacket embroidered with silver moons and stars. She had a matching green skirt. It must have cost a fortune.

  For the rest of the class I thought about how the popular girl had taken over and spent the entire hour whispering to the new girl. Ms. Dreeble didn’t even get on Amanda’s case like she would have with me. Maybe what you wore really did matter. When it was lunch and I went to join Amarjeet and Mia, I spotted Lea sitting beside Amanda at the cool kids’ table.

  The girls at that table all wore expensive tops and pants and the latest boots and sweaters … not like at our table with me still squirming into some of last year’s clothes, and Mia in her sensible skirt and blouse, and Amarjeet who always wore dark long-sleeved T-shirts and dress pants. None of our clothes were exactly the height of fashion. Is that how these things get decided? People couldn’t just be friends regardless of what they wore?

  But I’d been at this school five months and hardly had any friends. This girl hadn’t been at the school for five hours. Even Jasper, who was a year younger than me and kind of nerdy, had been invited into Darkmont’s elite group – although he rarely sat with them. He didn’t even appreciate it. This wasn’t fair.

  Then Lea pulled a chair to the table. She gestured to me and said, “Sit here.”

  CHAPTER 3 - A Dark Deal

  ME? SIT AT this table? I stared at Clive, Emily, Amanda, and Mitch. And Zach – a boy I wished would pay more attention to me. Did I dare join them even though the new girl had invited me? The last time I went to sit down at this table it had been a mistake. They’d really been making space for another girl, and I had gotten flustered and dropped my lunch tray, and everyone laughed and …

  “C’mon,” Lea smiled. “Everyone’s talking about you anyway.”

  “They are?” I shook my head in confusion.

  “We’re talking about the dance,” Emily said. “We’re organizing a decorating committee and we’re wondering if – since your old school had lots of dances – you’d have some ideas.”

  “It’s all about converting the gym into a more glamorous place,” I said, sliding into the seat as if it was mine all along. This wouldn’t be easy – Darkmont was, well, dark and dreary. “For the Valentine’s theme we could get red decorations: crepe paper streamers, cardboard hearts, and loads of balloons or something like that to hang from the gym ceiling.” I wasn’t convinced this would give the gym the transformation it would need.

  “You realize our school has no budget and there isn’t much time,” warned Amanda.

  “Balloons are cheap. And there might be stuff on hand at the school,” I said, thinking of the meager supplies in our art department.

  “So you’re in,” said Emily. “You’re in charge of decorations.”

  What just happened? What else did I just get myself into? But still I nodded.

  “Try to make the gym into something magnificent,” said Amanda. “This dance is super exciting – Darkmont has never had a dance.” Then the girls at the table broke into descriptions of the awesome outfits they were going to wear, while the guys rolled their eyes and talked about how awful our dance classes were going to be.

  “What will you wear?” asked Lea.

  “I haven’t decided,” I said, thinking how the blouse and skirt my mom was planning clearly wouldn’t cut it compared to the dresses everyone else had described. “There’s a dress in Esmeralda’s shop, but it’s way too expensive.”

  “Esmeralda’s dresses are all designer fashions,” bubbled Amanda. “My dress is breathtaking. You’ve got to get your dress there.”

  Suddenly all the girls except Lea began talking at once about how they wanted dresses from that store. Funny, Lea had the most expensive clothes of all of us, but she didn’t seem to care about Esmerelda’s.

  I was still thinking about my dream dress after school during our first dance lesson. That is, until I saw something that drove it completely out of my mind for the next hour. We all stood around the gym staring at a horrific sight. Mr. Morrows and Ms. Dreeble were dancing

  – together! Every kid’s mouth hung open and their faces were frozen in s
hock as they watched our teachers weave in and out of each other’s arms until Mr. Morrows spun Ms. Dreeble around in a pirouette. They laughed and bowed to the class. It was almost too much for the eyes to take. A few kids clapped hesitantly, breaking the awkward silence.

  “Now class, I want everyone to choose a partner, and the dance lessons will begin,” instructed Ms. Dreeble.

  Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse. At first we just kind of shuffled around, and I could see I wasn’t the only one who found this nerve-wracking. Who would I choose? Zach had already grabbed Emily’s hand. Then Clive swaggered forward. He walked toward me. Keep walking right past me, I shouted in my mind. As he came closer he began to slow down.

  No … noooo … I looked away hoping not making eye contact would render me invisible, but he grabbed my hand anyway. Should I have been flattered? Hardly. He used this time to complain about how these lessons would ruin soccer. Dark tornadoes swirled above my head as I listened.

  Finally I said, “Look, it wasn’t my idea of the dance that made the teachers decide on these lessons. It was vice versa.”

  “Your bright idea didn’t help,” was his angry reply. I watched everyone else get into pairs and thought, Why couldn’t I have chosen one of those boys first. Any other boy would have been better! Why had I hesitated … but I knew the answer. Because the boy I would have chosen had picked another girl.

  While we all stood facing each other but not exactly looking directly at each other, Ms. Dreeble blew her whistle. “Okay everyone, listen and watch. Boys follow Mr. Morrows’s example and put your right foot forward, then slide together, step and slide together, step.”

  The boys dragged their feet as they tried to follow Mr. Morrows. “Girls, now it’s your turn.” This time Ms. Dreeble demonstrated her version of slide-together-step. It didn’t seem too hard.

  “Now together with your partner.” As Ms Dreeble ran around placing our hands over the boys’ shoulders and the boys’ hands on our backs, I wanted to pull my own hand away as if it was burnt. Even Clive only put his hand near my back, keeping space between my sweater and his fingers. Our hands slid around because both our palms were sweaty. Ballroom dancing looked way better on television. In real life, it was pretty gross.