by R. L. Stine
“Tough game Friday night,” Bobbi said, watching the two boys dispiritedly walk the disabled bike away.
“Yeah. Winstead is always tough,” Chip said, waving to a couple of girls who had just emerged from the building. “They’ll probably cream us.”
Bobbi laughed. “Wow, you’ve sure got confidence,” she said sarcastically.
“No. Come on,” he replied. “I’m pumped for the game. But you’ve got to be realistic. They went to the state finals last year.”
“How’d you learn to throw the ball so far?” Bobbi asked, stopping at the edge of the parking lot, shifting her backpack on her shoulders. “Just practice a lot?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “My dad and I used to practice throwing in the backyard. We still do, when he has the time. He’s working two jobs these days, so it’s kind of tough.”
“My parents both work all the time,” Bobbi told him. “But I’m usually at cheerleading practice or studying, so I wouldn’t see them much even if they were home.”
“I guess my dad got me my first football when I was five,” Chip said, leaning against the parking lot fence. The wind ruffled his thick, brown hair, his dark eyes studying Bobbi as he talked. “He loves football, but he never had a chance to play. Always had to work. So I guess he wanted to do his playing through me.”
“That can be a lot of pressure,” Bobbi said thoughtfully.
Chip’s expression hardened. “I can handle it,” he said softly.
“I just meant—” Bobbi started, surprised by his abrupt answer.
“Are you going out with anybody or anything?” Chip interrupted.
Caught off guard by the change of subject, Bobbi hesitated. “No,” she finally managed to reply. “Are you?”
He shook his head. “No. Not anymore. Want to meet me after the Winstead game?” He stared at her intently. “We could go get a pizza. You know. Hang out with some other guys?”
“Great,” Bobbi replied. “Sounds good.”
“Well, okay. Excellent.” He glanced up at the clock over the back door of the school. “I’ve got to practice,” he said, pushing away from the fence. “After the game, wait for me outside the stadium locker room, okay?”
He didn’t wait for her to reply. Instead, he slipped his helmet on and began jogging toward the practice field across from the baseball diamond, taking long, easy strides.
What an amazing day! Bobbi thought, watching him as he ran. So many good things happening at once!
She shook her head, somewhat dazed by it all. Her next thought was: I’ll probably be hit by a truck on the way home.
♦ ♦ ♦
The next evening, a warm, almost balmy Thursday night, Bobbi finished her dinner, then hurried to Jennifer’s house to study. Since the accident, she and Jennifer had become close.
Unlike some of the other girls, who wanted to shut the accident out of their minds and forget it had ever happened, Bobbi had visited Jennifer in the hospital every day. Bobbi had been touched by her new friend’s bravery and serenity. Soon she and Jennifer were talking easily, sharing their thoughts and feelings as if they had been longtime friends.
Bobbi parked her car on the street and made her way up the smooth asphalt drive. Jennifer lived in a sprawling, modern ranch house in North Hills, the wealthiest section of Shadyside.
What a contrast to Fear Street, Bobbi thought wistfully, her eyes taking in the manicured lawns, raked clean, and the well-cared-for houses.
The streetlights flickered on as Mrs. Daly opened the door to her. “Oh, hi, Bobbi,” she said, looking tired and drawn in the pale porchlight. “Jennifer’s waiting for you in the den.”
Bobbi eagerly made her way across the carpeted living room with its low, sleek furniture of chrome and white leather and into the small den, closing the door behind her. “Did you talk to Kimmy?” she asked Jennifer, skipping any greeting.
Jennifer was seated in her wheelchair, between two red leather couches that faced each other. She was wearing navy blue sweats, the sweatshirt sleeves rolled up above her elbows. Her red-brown hair was tied behind her head in a single braid. She had a textbook in her lap.
“I talked to her,” she replied, her face expressionless. Slowly a smile spread across her full lips. “She’s coming back.”
“Oh, good,” Bobbi said, breathing a long sigh. She dropped her backpack on the checkered tile floor and plopped down in the red couch on Jennifer’s right. “I can’t believe I didn’t even notice that she had run out.”
“You were a little excited,” Jennifer said dryly.
“But I should have known Kimmy would be upset,” Bobbi insisted, rubbing her hand against the smooth leather of the couch arm. “But I didn’t see her. I didn’t see anything. It was all so . . .” She didn’t finish her thought.
“Anyway, I talked to her,” Jennifer said, wheeling herself closer until she was right in front of Bobbi. “She’s not a happy camper, but I got her to come around.” Her mouth fell into an unhappy pout. She avoided Bobbi’s eyes. “Kimmy and I used to be so close. But not anymore.”
“I’m really sorry,” Bobbi said quickly. “If it’s my fault, I—”
“No, it isn’t,” Jennifer interrupted. “You didn’t do anything. Really.”
“How did you get her to come back on the squad?” Bobbi asked.
“I told her we needed her. I said, ‘What would happen if Bobbi fell and broke her leg?’ ”
“And what did she say?” Bobbi wondered.
“She asked if I would put that in writing!” Jennifer replied.
Both girls burst out laughing.
“Kimmy isn’t your biggest fan,” Jennifer said.
“Well, duh,” Bobbi replied, rolling her eyes, imitating her little brother, Sean. “Well, duh” was Sean’s favorite expression.
“Well, I’m glad she’s not quitting,” Bobbi said.
“Really? Why?” Jennifer demanded, closing the textbook on her lap and tossing it onto the couch opposite Bobbi.
“Because . . . because it would make me feel really bad,” Bobbi said with emotion.
Jennifer snickered. “Having her around might make you feel a lot worse, Bobbi. She won’t talk to you. You know that. And she’ll probably try to turn the other girls against you. I’m sure she’s been on the phone night and day with those two pals of hers, Debra and Ronnie.”
Bobbi sighed and pulled both hands back through her hair. “You know, it’s only a cheerleading squad. It’s supposed to be fun.”
“Tell that to Kimmy,” Jennifer said softly. She shifted her weight in the wheelchair. “Ow.”
“Are you okay?” Bobbi asked, leaning forward, preparing to jump up if her friend needed help of some kind.
“Yeah. Fine.” Jennifer forced a smile. “Let’s change the subject, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” Bobbi settled back on the couch. “Do you know Charles Chasner?”
“Chip? Sure.” Jennifer’s smile broadened. “Chip is a real babe. I’ve had a crush on him since third grade. He’s cuter now, though.”
“He asked me out for tomorrow after the game,” Bobbi confided.
Jennifer’s eyes widened in surprise. “Huh? Chip?”
Bobbi nodded. “Yeah. He asked me out. Yesterday. After the pep rally.”
“Really?”
Bobbi was startled to see Jennifer’s eyes narrow and her features tighten. Jennifer glared at Bobbi. “You didn’t say yes—did you?”
Chapter 10
Horror in the Hall
“Jen—what’s wrong?” Bobbi asked.
Jennifer shook her head, then locked her eyes on Bobbi’s. “Don’t you know that Chip is Kimmy’s boyfriend?”
“Huh?” Bobbi’s mouth dropped open in shock. She suddenly could feel the blood pulsing at her temples.
“I mean, he was Kimmy’s boyfriend,” Jennifer said, gripping the sides of the wheelchair, “until a couple of weeks ago.”
“A couple of weeks?”
“Yeah.” Jennifer fro
wned. “Then he dumped her. Just like that. After more than two years.”
“Oh, my gosh.” Bobbi slumped down in the soft leather couch. She seemed to deflate. The shock of this news made her feel weak. “She’ll think—”
“She’ll think Chip dumped her for you,” Jennifer finished the thought for her.
Bobbi moaned. “One more reason for Kimmy to hate my guts.”
They stared at each other in silence for a while. Jennifer squeaked her wheelchair back and forth on the floor.
Finally Bobbi asked, “What should I do?”
Jennifer shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s really cute!”
♦ ♦ ♦
“Girls, how about getting up a little energy?” Miss Green said. It was more of a complaint than a question, and she said the words with disgust.
Having blown her whistle and stepped onto the floor to interrupt the practice, she did an imitation of the way they looked to her, moving her arms and legs in weary slow motion, her eyes half-closed, her mouth drooping open.
The cheerleaders watched in sullen silence. Bobbi felt embarrassed. She was leading the practice, after all. It was her job to get the girls to show some spirit, not Miss Green’s.
But Bobbi was finding it difficult to get some of the girls to listen to her, even though it was the last practice before the game that night.
Kimmy had done a good job of turning the girls against Bobbi. It hadn’t been hard, Bobbi realized unhappily. The girls had all known Kimmy for years. Bobbi was a newcomer, an intruder.
Most of the cheerleaders hadn’t wanted to allow the Corcorans on the squad in the first place. And now here was Bobbi, giving them instructions, leading them, or trying to lead them, trying to get them to cooperate.
“When you do ‘Sssssssssteam Heat’ like that,” Miss Green was scolding them, “it makes me think your boiler’s broken.”
It was supposed to be a joke, but it fell flat on the dispirited squad. No one even cracked a smile.
Standing beside Miss Green, Bobbi let her eyes wander down the row of girls. She stopped at Kimmy, who was glaring at her, her eyes narrowed. Kimmy’s stare was so hard, so cold, it forced Bobbi to look away.
The gym doors opened, and Jennifer wheeled herself in. Smiling at Bobbi, she made her way silently along the far wall, her maroon and white pennant on her lap, her backpack attached to her wheelchair.
Bobbi wished Jennifer hadn’t come. She felt embarrassed to have Jennifer show up while the girls were being lectured by Miss Green. Jennifer would see that Bobbi didn’t have control, that the girls weren’t with her.
She knew Jennifer would be sympathetic. She was Bobbi’s best friend, after all. But it was still embarrassing.
Bobbi felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Corky, who gave her an encouraging smile and then quickly resumed her place.
Bobbi took a deep breath. “Okay, guys,” she shouted, clapping her hands enthusiastically and moving in front of Miss Green, “let’s try it again! Let’s really get sssssteamed up!”
She saw Kimmy roll her eyes and sarcastically mutter something to Debra. Then the girls lined up and began the Steam Heat routine, this time with a little more enthusiasm than before.
It wasn’t great. Ronnie was out of step for the entire last part of it, but Bobbi didn’t think it was worth making them do it again.
As the routine ended with a cheer and a spread eagle, she turned to see Jennifer and Miss Green talking heatedly near the wall. Miss Green was leaning over the wheelchair, close to Jennifer’s ear. Both of them were shaking their heads as they spoke.
Are they talking about me? Bobbi wondered, dread building in the pit of her stomach. Is Miss Green complaining about me, about how I haven’t been able to win over the girls?
“Are we finished?”
Kimmy’s shrill question made Bobbi turn back to the line of girls.
“Yeah. I guess,” Bobbi said distractedly.
“Well, can we go?” Kimmy asked impatiently. “I mean, the game’s in a few hours. We have to go home and have dinner and everything, don’t we?”
Kimmy was making no attempt to hide her dislike of Bobbi. To her dismay, Bobbi saw that some of the other girls seemed to adopt Kimmy’s attitude.
They all agree with her, Bobbi thought, her head suddenly pounding, her temples throbbing. They probably all think that Kimmy should be captain, not me.
And now even Jennifer and Miss Green are talking about me.
“We’ll meet here in the gym at seven,” Bobbi announced dispiritedly, avoiding their eyes by glancing up at the scoreboard clock. “Ronnie will be in charge of equipment.”
Ronnie rolled her eyes and cast a glance at Kimmy.
“No fire batons tonight,” Bobbi announced. “That routine needs a lot more work. We’ll try it for homecoming next week.”
The girls picked up their belongings and quickly made their way out of the gym. Bobbi stood in the middle of the floor, her shoulders slumped, feeling discouraged, watching the girls exit.
“I thought it went a lot better, that last time,” Corky said, offering an encouraging smile.
“Liar,” Bobbi muttered.
Corky shrugged. “No. Really.”
“Thanks,” Bobbi said dryly, watching Jennifer and Miss Green still talking animatedly.
“You coming straight home?” Corky bent to scratch one knee. Her hair was damp from perspiration.
At least one cheerleader is really trying, Bobbi thought miserably. “Go on without me,” she told her sister. “I’ve got to get all my stuff.”
Giving her a quick, playful salute, Corky obediently headed to the door. With a sigh, Bobbi turned and saw that Jennifer and Miss Green had disappeared into the advisor’s office in the corner.
She pulled the whistle from around her neck and, swinging it by its cord, began walking slowly toward the door. Being cheerleader captain is supposed to be fun, she thought regretfully.
Well, she told herself, I’ll find a way to win them over. Maybe even Kimmy. Once again she remembered Kimmy’s cold stare, and shuddered.
She stepped into the hallway, which was empty and silent. Her sneakers squeaked along the hard floor. She turned a corner, climbed the stairs to the first floor, and headed to her locker to collect her books and jacket.
The long corridor stretched before her like a tunnel. The lights had been dimmed to save energy. Gray lockers lined both walls. The classrooms were dark and empty.
Bobbi coughed, the sound echoing through the long tunnel.
The loud crash behind her made her jump and cry out.
She spun around in time to see a locker door swing open, then slam shut.
“Oh!”
Another crash. In front of her.
She turned to see two lockers against the right wall swing open.
As she stared in disbelief, two more lockers pulled open. The doors seemed to hesitate, then slammed shut with deafening force.
Her mouth open in a silent cry, Bobbi gaped in astonishment.
Doors slammed, then swung open again.
Bang. Bang.
The sound echoed until it became a terrifying roar.
Bang. Bang. Both rows of locker doors swung open at once, as if pulled by invisible hands.
“No!” Bobbi cried.
This isn’t happening. I’m imagining this!
Her heart pounding, she dropped the whistle and began to run. Past swinging, slamming locker doors. Through the echoing sounds, a barrage like gunfire.
“No! Stop!”
The wall of lockers on her left swung open in unison, then slammed shut with a deafening crash.
“No! Please!”
She held her hands over her ears and ran.
And then she heard the screams.
A girl, screaming in horror.
High-pitched, shrill screams of anguish, of pain.
Who’s there? Bobbi wondered, running between the slamming lockers. Who is it?
The girl screamed again, the sound
rising above the thunder of the lockers.
And again.
Bobbi’s sneakers pounded against the floor. She ran blindly through the dark hallway, locker doors swinging open, then slamming shut on both sides of her.
Another scream of agony.
Bobbi reached the end of the corridor, turned the corner, and stared in surprise.
Chapter 11
Who Was Screaming?
No one there.
The front hall was deserted.
Silence.
“Hello?” Bobbi called.
No reply. No screams. The only sound now was that of her loud, gasping breaths.
“Hello? Anyone there?” she called out in a hoarse, choked voice.
Silence.
No one.
Confused and frightened, her hands pressed tightly to her burning cheeks, Bobbi turned back. And peered cautiously down the long, dim corridor.
The dark lockers along the walls were all shut tight.
Her ears rang from the crashing, banging sounds they had made. But now they stood still and silent. She took a reluctant step, then another, expecting them to fly open again, to begin their frightening symphony.
Silence.
No lockers banging. No girl screaming in terror.
Her legs trembling, Bobbi made her way to her locker. She opened the combination lock with a shaking hand and pulled the door open.
She glanced down the hall. Still silent and empty.
The silence seemed to echo in her mind.
Am I cracking up?
Am I totally losing it?
She pulled out the things she needed, stuffed them into her backpack, locked the door, and ran.
♦ ♦ ♦
At home, in the upstairs room they shared, Corky didn’t believe her. “You’re very tired,” she said sympathetically from her desk, where she was trying to cram in a little homework before she had to leave for the game. “You’ve been under a lot of pressure.”
“You don’t believe me?” Bobbi shrieked, immediately angry at herself for not keeping her cool.
Corky stared at her sister thoughtfully. “Locker doors flying open?”
“I know it sounds crazy—” Bobbi started.
“The hall was dark, right?” Corky interrupted, tapping her pencil against her open textbook. “It was late. You were tired. Practice was rough. You’re nervous about the game tonight.”
