by R. L. Stine
“I don’t believe it,” Marci said, not into the phone but to someone else at her house. “Lea?” she said into the phone.
“Marci—is—uh …”
Why did I call her? Lea moaned to herself. This is so embarrassing. I’ll never live this down. Never!
“Marci, is Don there?”
Marci’s laughter burst into Lea’s ear, cold and cruel.
“Marci—?”
Marci stopped laughing abruptly. “Lea, I can’t believe you fell for it,” she said with false hilarity.
“What?”
“You didn’t really believe Don would go out with you, did you?” Marci continued. “It was a joke.”
“Now, wait a minute—” Lea could feel her anger rising, replacing her embarrassment.
“No, you wait a minute!” Marci snapped angrily. “Why on earth would Don go out with you? He’s going with me. It was all a joke, Lea. I dared him to ask you out. But I never dreamed you’d fall for it.”
Marci held her hand over the mouthpiece. Lea could hear her muffled voice saying something to someone else. Probably Don.
“Well, that will teach you to come on to my boyfriend,” Marci said nastily. “Have a nice night.” The phone clicked loudly in Lea’s ear.
Lea slammed down the receiver. Then with a cry of anger, she fell forward on the bed, burying her face in the pillow.
This isn’t happening, she thought.
She pressed her face into the soft darkness of the pillow and stifled the urge to scream again.
To scream and scream and scream.
What good would it do? she asked herself. It would only bring her parents. And she definitely didn’t want to see her parents.
She didn’t want to see anyone.
Ever again.
I’ll run away, she thought.
I’ll take the car. I’ll drive and drive and drive—till I fall off the earth!
No. I’ll drive and drive and drive—till I run over Marci!
Realizing that she was suffocating, Lea pulled the pillow away from her face. But she didn’t move from her facedown position on the bed.
Marci is such a liar, she thought.
Liar, liar, liar.
It wasn’t a joke when Don asked me out in the lunchroom. He meant it. He really wanted to go out with me.
Marci forced him to do this.
Yes, that’s it.
Marci found out about it and forced him to break the date. Of course. And now she was lying, saying it was all a joke, that she had planned the whole thing, that it was just a stupid dare.
For sure!
It wasn’t a joke. Don is much too nice a guy to do something like that. Much too nice …
Lea thought about how cute Don had looked down on the floor, helping her pick up her lunch. She thought about Don’s shy smile when he asked her out. How nervous he suddenly became, how his eyes kept darting to the lunchroom door.
No, it wasn’t a joke.
Marci had forced Don to do this.
Liar, liar, liar.
But then, if that was true, why hadn’t Don called her? He could’ve called and explained. Or made an excuse. Any excuse.
Why had he gone along with Marci’s cruel joke?
Was he afraid of Marci? Or—was he just as cruel as she was?
No!
Confused and angry, feeling terribly sorry for herself, Lea picked up her stuffed tiger and clutched it tightly under her chin. “You would never betray me, would you, Georgie?” she asked it in a tiny voice.
Sighing loudly, Lea kicked off the covers. She couldn’t get to sleep. She’d been trying for the longest time.
She pulled herself up onto her elbows and stared across the room at the windows. Curtains hadn’t been put up yet, and silver moonlight filled both windows. The light was pale and lovely and made the rest of the room shimmer.
I’ll never sleep again, Lea thought. She thought about Don and Marci and wondered where they were right then, wondered if they were still talking about her, still laughing at her expense.
I’ve got to stop thinking about them, she told herself. But that was easier said than done.
The creaking sound brought Lea out of her unhappy thoughts.
She listened as the sound repeated. It seemed to be right over her head.
There it was again.
It wasn’t just the creaking of the house. Lea was beginning to recognize the groans and squeaks the old house made.
This sound was too regular, too rhythmic.
She lay back on her pillow, alert now, listening harder.
There the noise was again.
Footsteps?
Yes. It sounded like footsteps up above her.
But that was impossible.
Hugging Georgie, she listened intently.
The sound faded and died.
Her imagination was playing tricks on her.
Tricks … tricks … tricks …
Just a joke … just a trick … trick … trick …
With the word repeating in her mind, Lea drifted into a troubled, restless sleep.
Deena, where are you? Lea thought impatiently, leaning against the tile in the hall outside the lunchroom. They had agreed to meet for lunch after fourth period on Monday. Kids were streaming past Lea, laughing, talking loudly, eager for lunch, but Deena was nowhere to be seen.
As she watched everyone go past, Lea had to fight the feeling that they all knew. That they all knew the cruel joke that had been played on her, that they knew how foolish she had been, how gullible.
They all know. And they’re all laughing at me.
She avoided everyone’s eyes, staring down at her sneakers.
Marci has spread the story all over school. I know she has.
It had taken Lea so much effort just to return to school. She had spent all of Sunday moping around the house, feeling humiliated, betrayed, mortified beyond words. When Deena had called Sunday afternoon wondering why she hadn’t heard from Lea, the whole story had burst out of Lea in a stream of anger.
Deena had tried to be comforting. But Lea detected a tone of “I told you so” in Deena’s voice, which made Lea feel even more foolish and alone.
And now, here she was, standing by the door to the lunchroom with the whole school marching by, everyone staring at her, everyone grinning.
Everyone knows.
Lea scolded herself for being paranoid, but she still avoided everyone’s glance.
Suddenly someone bumped into her shoulder, hard. “Hey—” she cried out.
“Sorry. He pushed me.” A chubby guy with dark, curly hair grinned at her while pointing at a kid beside him. She recognized him from her homeroom. His name was Ricky Schorr, and he was always goofing around. He shoved his friend back, and they continued on into the lunchroom, carrying on like little kids.
Everyone here is so immature, Lea thought glumly.
Except for me. I’m not mature enough to be immature.
She was about to give up on Deena when a voice interrupted her thoughts. “Hi, Lea.”
Lea swung around to see Don standing next to her, guilt written across his face. “Hi,” she said coldly, forcing herself not to act surprised to see him there, forcing herself not to reveal any emotion at all.
“I—I don’t know what to say,” Don muttered, staring into her eyes. He had his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He rocked uncomfortably back and forth on his sneakers.
Lea didn’t reply.
He continued to stare into her eyes. “I just want to—you know, apologize.”
Lea glanced down the long hall, which had emptied out except for a few stragglers. She didn’t say anything.
“I wanted to call you, to let you know,” Don said, removing one hand from a pocket to rub the back of his neck. “Marci—well, she’s sort of jealous. I mean—”
He stopped, hoping she’d say something, hoping she’d help him out.
But Lea didn’t say a word.
She turned her gla
nce on him, leaving her face expressionless. He had beads of perspiration on his forehead even though it was cold in the hall.
“Marci’s great, really,” Don continued, still rocking up and down on his sneakers. “You’ve only seen the bad side of her. She just gets really jealous, that’s all.”
He stopped, took a deep breath, and let it out, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t be apologizing for her,” he said, staring at Lea’s face. “I should be apologizing for me. I’m really sorry, Lea.”
“Thanks for apologizing, Don,” she said, keeping her voice low and steady.
“Last week in the lunchroom,” he continued, a little less awkwardly. “When I saw you, I thought—” He stopped suddenly. Lea followed his gaze down the hall.
Marci had just turned the corner.
Lea felt a sharp stab of anger, mixed with dread.
“Uh—I’d better go,” Don said quickly. “Sorry. Really. I really am.” He turned and, dodging two girls on their way to the lunchroom, hurried in a half run to intercept Marci.
Lea remained against the wall, unmoving, watching Don and Marci. He caught up to her, took her by the arm, and turned her around. They disappeared back around the corner.
Wow, thought Lea. Marci sure does have Don wrapped around her little finger!
“Sorry I’m late,” Deena said, appearing from behind Lea, grabbing Lea’s shoulder.
Lea, lost in thought, jumped in surprise. “Oh, hi.”
“Wagner kept me after class. I totally blew the chem experiment. He wouldn’t let me leave till I got it right.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Lea said wistfully, following her friend into the lunchroom. “I’m not very hungry, anyway.”
“You still thinking about Don and Marci?” Deena asked sympathetically.
“Yeah. I guess.” Lea shrugged. “I wish I could just shut them out of my mind. Just shut the door on them, lock it, and board it up—like the room in my attic.”
“The room in your attic?” Deena was totally mystified.
“Never mind,” Lea said, and picked up a lunch tray from the stack, burning hot and soaking wet, as usual.
* * *
After school Lea pulled some books out of her locker, loaded her backpack, closed the locker, and prepared to lock it. It was then she realized that Marci was standing beside her.
Marci’s short red hair was perfectly brushed, and she was wearing a very short green suede skirt over black tights and a silky green top that emphasized her full figure. Just standing next to her made Lea feel small and boyish.
“Marci, what do you want?” Lea asked, sounding more impatient than angry.
“I want to apologize too,” Marci said softly.
“What?” Lea hoisted the backpack onto her shoulders.
“I made Don apologize, and now I want to apologize too.”
Lea had the sudden feeling that she was in a dream, that she was sound asleep, fashioning this whole scene from her subconscious. She stared past Marci down the hall. The solid walls, the bright ceiling lights, the other kids at their lockers, all seemed to indicate that this wasn’t a dream. It was really happening.
“You made Don apologize?” Lea couldn’t hide her surprise or her confusion.
“I went too far,” Marci said, staring into Lea’s eyes. “I really did. I’m not a mean person. Usually. And this time I just went too far. After Saturday I felt terrible.”
“So did I,” Lea said bitterly.
“I want to make it up to you,” Marci said, putting a hand briefly on Lea’s shoulder. “We’re having a sorority meeting tomorrow after school. Would you like to come see if you’d be interested in joining?”
Lea stared into Marci’s eyes, trying to read her thoughts.
Was she sincere? Was she really inviting Lea to join her sorority? To become part of her group?
Lea had always wanted to belong, really belong, but wherever she went, she had always been the outsider, the shy outsider.
“I—I didn’t know there were sororities at Shadyside,” Lea stammered.
“Of course there are.” Marci smiled. “We’re meeting after school tomorrow in Room four-oh-nine. Please come, Lea.” She held Lea’s shoulder again briefly. “I really would like to make it up to you for last weekend. I just feel so guilty.”
Lea pulled away from Marci angrily. “Hey, I’m not stupid!” she snapped, glaring at her. “This school is only three stories high. There is no Room four-oh-nine!”
Marci threw back her head and laughed. “Never mind!” she cried in a mocking voice. She turned and hurried away, still laughing to herself.
“What a dumb joke,” Lea tried to call after her, but her voice choked in her throat, and the words didn’t come out.
Lea slammed her fist angrily against her locker. The pain ran up her arm to her shoulder. “Ow.”
At least Marci’s stupid joke didn’t work.
At least Lea was smart enough to remember how many floors there were at Shadyside.
Yeah, I’m real smart, Lea told herself bitterly. Real smart …
She checked to make sure she had secured her lock, then glumly began to trudge down the long hall toward the front entrance.
Why does Marci want to torture me? she wondered.
Why does she hate me so much?
She can have Don. Really. I’m not interested in him. I hope the two of them are very happy.
Let them just leave me alone to live my lonely life.
As she stepped out the door, she raised her eyes to the sky. It was gray and threatening rain, and she felt the gusty autumn wind whip up and sting her face. Looking down at the bottom of the steps, she saw Marci on the sidewalk talking to a cluster of girls.
When Lea stepped off the steps, they instantly stopped talking and glanced over at her. Then they all started to laugh.
Marci was telling them about me, Lea realized.
Anger she had never felt before rose up through her body.
I’ve got to get back at Marci, Lea thought, frightened by her own vehemence.
I’ve got to get back at her.
Lea pushed Stop on the remote control, then pushed Rewind. The VCR clicked obediently and began to rewind the movie.
It was Saturday night and she was home alone, stretched out on the couch in the den, having just watched Ghost for the third time in as many months, or maybe the fourth. She had lost track.
Patrick Swayze is a real babe, she thought, stretching sleepily. He can come haunt me anytime.
Yawning, Lea glanced up at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room beside the cartons of unpacked books. “Two-fifteen?”
She had momentarily forgotten that the clock didn’t work. It was just another piece of “valuable” junk her dad had bought at a garage sale, intending to fix it when he had the chance.
She smiled, thinking about her dad. In his job as an electronics company recruiter, he did nothing with his hands, except maybe push papers back and forth across a desk. But when he got home, his hands were constantly busy with projects, building, examining, repairing everything, as if they had to make up for all the time they spent in repose during the day.
Her mother, Lea knew, had the same energy, the same drive to fix things up, to make things better, to improve the world by painting it or wallpapering it.
By the time they’re finished with this old dump, Lea thought, it’ll look like a real home.
But then, of course, it’ll be time to move.
When I get married, I’m going to settle into one place and never move, she told herself, smiling at the thought. Maybe I’ll just dig a hole in the ground, a soft, comfy hole, just big enough for me and my family, and live in it forever, rooted there like a tree.
She wandered up to her room, turning off lights along the way, making sure the porch light was on for her parents. They were at a party across town being given by a man from her dad’s new office. A welcoming party, her dad had described it.
Wish someone would give me a we
lcoming party, Lea thought wistfully.
Her desk clock said it was only eleven-thirty. I don’t care how early it is. I’m tired and I’m going to go to sleep, she decided.
The next day, Sunday, she and Deena had made plans to go play tennis at an indoor tennis club Deena’s family belonged to in the North Hills section of town.
Something to look forward to, Lea thought, yawning sleepily. She pushed Georgie to the foot of the bed, clicked off the lamp on her night table, and slid under the covers.
Darkness covered her like a soft blanket. Outside the twin windows clouds blocked the moon. The sky was gray and still.
Lea settled her head on the pillow, staring up at the smooth blackness of the ceiling. At least I was able to bring my old bed with me, she thought happily. Something familiar. Something cozy …
She had almost drifted into a pleasant sleep when she heard the noise again.
Clearer this time.
Above her head.
Footsteps. It had to be footsteps.
But how could it be?
She tried to ignore the sound, shutting her eyes tightly and pulling the soft feather pillow up over her ears.
But she could still hear them.
Footsteps. The ceiling groaned under them.
One step. Then another. Then in the other direction. As if someone was pacing above her head.
Someone upstairs in the attic.
Or something.
But how could that be? The round attic window was too high and too small for anyone to climb in. And there was no other entryway.
Lea sat up.
The ceiling squeaked directly overhead.
Shoes against the floor above. Tap. Tap. Then back—tap tap. Louder now.
No!
Lea kicked off the covers and stood up, her heart pounding.
“Hey!” she called out, staring up at the dark ceiling.
She listened.
The tapping stopped for a moment, then started again.
Suddenly very frightened, she clicked on the lamp, then turned on the ceiling light. She pulled her silky blue robe on over her pajamas and slipped into the rubber thongs she used as slippers.
Maybe I should call the police, she thought.
