Cheerleaders: The New Evil

by R. L. Stine

  “Lauren is a great jumper,” Corky commented. “But her voice is kind of weak.”

  Kimmy nodded. “Yeah. Rochelle has the best voice. You can hear her two blocks away!”

  Rochelle Drexler wore loose-fitting maroon sweats and a maroon and white Shadyside Tigers cap over her long, white-blond hair. She had a pretty face, perky, with a tiny, upturned nose and round blue eyes.

  “Rochelle did a great routine,” Kimmy continued, checking her clipboard. “She had the best height on her spread eagles, and her splits were very graceful.”

  “I’d say it’s between Rochelle and Ivy,” Corky said thoughtfully, watching the girls through the window. Lauren was trying on Rochelle’s cap, twisting it backward, then sideways. Rochelle was sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning over. Her hair hung down over her face to the floor. She was running a hairbrush down through it, brushing vigorously.

  But where was Ivy? Had she wandered off?

  “Ivy is really good,” Kimmy replied. “Better than Lauren. But she’s not as graceful as Rochelle. And Rochelle has a better voice. More spirit too.”

  “Then we’re decided on Rochelle?” Corky asked.

  “Yeah, I guess—” Kimmy started to say.

  Corky interrupted her with a startled shout. “Hey!” She jumped off the desk and moved to the door.

  Kimmy stepped aside—to reveal Ivy standing behind her, just outside the office.

  “Ivy—how long have you been standing there?” Corky demanded sharply. “Were you eavesdropping?”

  Ivy’s pink lips parted in an O of surprise. She blushed until her cheeks were nearly as bright as her lips. “No. No way!” she protested.

  “Did you hear what we were saying?” Kimmy asked shrilly.

  Ivy shook her head. “No. Really, Kimmy, I didn’t hear a word. Honest.” She raised her right hand as if swearing an oath.

  “Then why were you hiding outside the door?” Corky asked.

  “I wasn’t hiding!” Ivy declared hotly, still blushing. “I just came to ask if you were going to reach a decision soon. I have a tennis lesson, and my mom is waiting in the car.”

  “We’re almost ready,” Kimmy told her. “Go on back with the other two. We’ll be right over.”

  Ivy spun around and began walking slowly toward the bleachers. Kimmy turned back to Corky. “Do you think she overheard what we were saying?”

  “It doesn’t really matter,” Corky replied with a shrug. “We’ve made our decision, right? The order is: Rochelle, Ivy, Lauren—one, two, three.”

  “Right,” Kimmy agreed. “Let’s go tell them.”

  They stepped out of the office and started toward the bleachers.

  Corky stopped and grabbed Kimmy’s arm as she heard the man’s shout. “Hey—look out!”

  A girl screamed.

  Another man’s voice wailed, “Nooooo!”

  Corky and Kimmy started running across the floor.

  Lauren shrieked in horror. The maroon and white cap fell from her hand.

  Corky saw Ivy raise her hands to her cheeks, her pink mouth dropping open in shock.

  “What’s happening? What?” Corky managed to cry out.

  Then her eyes fell on Rochelle. Still cross-legged on the floor. Still leaning over, her hair over her face.

  “Ohhhhh!” Corky let out a horrified wail when she saw the bright red gush of blood spurting up from Rochelle’s neck.

  She saw the blood. And then she saw the screwdriver. Stuck deep into the back of Rochelle’s neck.

  “Ohhhhh no!” Corky knew at once what had happened. The screwdriver had fallen from the bleachers above.

  It had dropped straight down.

  And now it lay embedded in the back of Rochelle’s neck.

  The blood poured out over Rochelle.

  The hairbrush fell from her hand.

  She slumped forward until her head hit the floor.

  She didn’t move.

  Chapter 8

  A SHOCK FROM LAUREN

  Corky froze a few steps behind Kimmy, unable to believe her eyes.

  “Call a doctor! Call a doctor! Call a doctor!” Lauren shrieked, dropping to her knees beside Rochelle.

  “But she’s dead!” Ivy moaned. Loud sobs escaped Ivy’s throat.

  “No, she’s not! Quick, call a doctor!” Lauren cried, bent over Rochelle’s unmoving body.

  “What’s happened?” Ms. Closter came rushing into the gym. She tossed her notebook aside as she saw Rochelle sprawled facedown on the floor. “So much blood! Did she fall?”

  The cheerleader coach let out a low cry as she moved close enough to see the screwdriver lodged in Rochelle’s neck.

  The two workers appeared beside Ms. Closter. “It flew out of my hand!” one of them cried in a trembling voice, “I don’t know what happened. I was holding it tight. But it just flew out!”

  “Corky! Kimmy! Go!” Ms. Closter screamed, pointing frantically to her office. “Call for an ambulance! Hurry! Go!”

  “She’s losing a lot of blood,” one of the workmen muttered.

  Corky turned away from Rochelle and, breathing hard, forced herself to run toward the office.

  As she turned, she had caught a glimpse of the strange expression on Ivy’s face. It lingered in Gorky’s mind as she ran.

  Not a smile, she thought.

  No. Not a smile. Ivy wasn’t smiling—was she?

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The paramedics arrived quickly. They stopped the bleeding and hurried Rochelle away on a stretcher. She had lost a lot of blood, but she was breathing.

  Corky watched as two police officers questioned the workers. The two men had their heads lowered. One of them was gesturing with his hands, demonstrating how the screwdriver had tumbled.

  Two more officers had climbed to the top of the bleachers and were examining the metal frame. A young officer stood at the door, talking to Mr. Hernandez, the principal.

  Corky wiped tears off her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. She and Kimmy had answered the officers’ questions. Now they stood huddled silently beside Ivy and Lauren in front of Ms. Closter’s office.

  “I—I just can’t believe it!” Kimmy wailed. “A few minutes ago Rochelle was cheering and shouting and jumping. And then . . .” A choked sob ended her sentence.

  “She’ll be okay. I’m sure she will,” Corky murmured.

  Corky lowered her eyes to the floor. She didn’t want to start crying again. After she had called for the ambulance, Corky burst into tears. It was a while before she could stop crying.

  She knew she wasn’t crying for Rochelle. She barely knew Rochelle. Corky was crying for her sister Bobbi.

  She couldn’t help thinking about her sister now. Bobbi had been a cheerleader too. But Bobbi hadn’t been lucky like Rochelle. Bobbi had died in this same gym. In the locker room. In the shower.

  Bobbi had been trapped in the shower room. Somehow, the doors had shut and she’d been locked inside. Then scalding hot water shot out of the showers. Unable to escape, Bobbi had suffocated in the boiling steam.

  Murdered. Murdered by the evil.

  And now another cheerleader had been wounded in a weird accident. More horror.

  Was it an accident?

  Corky glanced over at Ms. Closter. The police officers continued to question her. “I—I have to call Rochelle’s parents now,” Ms. Closter was telling them. “I have to tell them where they’re taking Rochelle.”

  Kimmy had wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Corky saw that she was trying to stop herself from trembling. Ivy and Lauren whispered together, leaning against the wall, their eyes red, their faces pale.

  “You girls can go home!” Ms. Closter called. She waved a hand at the door. “I’ll call you later to check on you.”

  Corky took a deep breath, hoisted her backpack, and made her way out into the hall. She and Kimmy stopped outside the door. They exchanged sorrowful glances, but neither of them spoke.

  Ivy and Lauren followed, their expr
essions dazed and glum. Lauren struggled with the sleeve of her jacket. Ivy helped her into it.

  Then Ivy turned to Kimmy and Corky. “Uh—this sounds really stupid after—after what happened,” she murmured reluctantly. She avoided Corky’s eyes. “But do you think you could tell us . . .” She hesitated.

  Corky didn’t understand what Ivy was trying to ask, “Tell you what?” she demanded. Her voice came out tight and shrill.

  “Well . . .” Ivy glanced at Lauren. “Could you tell us which of us won? Who’s going to be the new cheerleader?”

  Kimmy’s mouth dropped open. She let out a gasp.

  Ivy blushed. “I—I mean, what happened to Rochelle—it’s j-just horrible!” she stammered. “I guess I’m still dazed. I still don’t believe it happened. But I think it would make me feel better to know—I mean, to know who won.”

  Lauren nodded in silent agreement.

  Corky gaped at them, trying to understand. How could they care about cheerleading after a girl had nearly been killed? How could they be so cold? Corky asked herself.

  Or were they just struggling desperately to return their lives to normal? Trying to think normal thoughts, to force the horror from their minds?

  Corky glanced at Kimmy. Kimmy nodded.

  “Well, I guess Ivy is the new squad member,” Corky told them. Her words came out in a whisper.

  “What? What did you say?” Lauren demanded.

  “It’s Ivy,” Corky repeated, forcing her voice a little louder. “The new cheerleader is Ivy.”

  A smile crossed Ivy’s pink lips.

  Lauren’s chin quivered and her nostrils flared angrily. “This isn’t fair, Corky!” she cried. “Really. This isn’t fair!”

  “Come on, Lauren—” Corky started to say.

  “Don’t tell me to come on!” Lauren fumed, scowling at Corky. “I know why you didn’t choose me. I know why. It’s because of Alex and me!”

  Chapter 9

  BOOM

  “First Hannah, then Rochelle,” Debra murmured, frowning. She tucked her toothpick-thin legs under her on the couch.

  “Don’t start,” Corky pleaded. She was slumped sideways on the armchair across from Debra. She raised one foot to stare at a hole in the toe of her white sock.

  “Did you feel an evil presence?” Debra demanded, ignoring Gorky’s demand.

  “It was an accident,” Corky insisted. “An unbelievable, tragic accident. I—I just feel so bad for Rochelle. She’ll probably miss weeks of school.”

  They sat in Corky’s living room. Golden afternoon sunlight streamed into the front window. Outside, the snow had begun to melt.

  “You don’t think the evil is back?” Debra persisted. Her sky blue eyes locked on Gorky’s.

  Corky shook her head. “It’s too frightening to think about. Please—let’s try not to talk about yesterday. Talk about something else.”

  “I wonder how long they’ll keep the gym closed,” Debra said, toying with the fringe on one of the pillows. “How are we supposed to practice for the tournament?”

  “It’s probably just closed for today,” Corky replied. She took a long drink from the can of diet Coke she held in one hand. “The police have to do whatever they do.”

  “They have counselors at school,” Debra added. “For kids who want to talk about the accident. You know. Talk about how they feel.” She dropped the pillow onto her lap. “Think you should go? You seem really stressed out.”

  Corky sighed. “I don’t need to talk to a counselor,” she replied, squeezing the soda can. “I need to talk to Alex. I can’t believe Lauren said that to me! I can’t believe that Alex—”

  “Lauren was just trying to say the meanest thing she could think of,” Debra suggested. She ran a hand back through her short blond hair. “She was upset that Ivy won. So she said the first thing that came into her head.”

  “Think so?” Corky lowered the soda to her lap, her expression thoughtful. “I don’t know, Debra. Lauren and Ivy have been friends for a long time. I don’t think Lauren would be angry with Ivy—”

  “She’s angry with you—not Ivy,” Debra replied.

  The phone rang. Corky jumped to her feet, nearly spilling the soda. “Maybe that’s Alex. I’ve called his house twelve times. I left twelve messages for him to call!”

  She hurried to the kitchen phone and grabbed the receiver. “Hello?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Hi. It’s me!”

  “Alex—where’ve you been?” Corky cried, not meaning to sound so frantic.

  “Uh—I had some stuff to do. How are you doing, Corky? Are you okay? I heard what happened after school yesterday. To Rochelle.”

  “I—I guess I’m okay,” Corky replied uncertainly. She took a deep breath. “Listen, Alex, there’s something I’ve got to ask you. I’m just going to be blunt and come right to the point, okay?”

  He hesitated. “Yeah. Sure. What’s the problem?”

  “What’s with you and Lauren?” Corky blurted out.

  “Huh? Lauren?” She couldn’t tell if Alex was genuinely confused by the question, or if he was stalling for time.

  “Yeah. You and Lauren,” she insisted. “Lauren told me that you and she—”

  “Whoa!” Alex interrupted. “If she said that we went out or anything, it’s a lie.”

  “You didn’t go out with Lauren?” Corky demanded. “What did you do—stay in with her?”

  Alex let out an uncomfortable laugh. “No. No way, Corky. I helped her one night last week with her government project. That’s all. Maybe she got the wrong idea.”

  “Maybe—” Corky replied. “Listen, Alex, do you want to come over tonight? We could study together. Maybe you could help me with my government project.”

  “Sorry,” he answered reluctantly. “I can’t. I—uh—just can’t tonight, Corky.”

  Couldn’t he think of an excuse? Corky wondered. Even a lame excuse would be better than no excuse at all.

  They talked for only a few more seconds, then said good bye. After hanging up, Corky lingered in the kitchen. He isn’t telling the truth, she thought sadly. There’s definitely something going on.

  When she returned to the living room, she was startled to find Naomi there. Still in her red and blue ski jacket, Naomi had dropped down into Corky’s chair and was talking heatedly to Debra.

  “If we can’t practice, we can’t do the fire baton routine,” Naomi was saying. “It’s going to take a lot of work—especially with a new girl on the squad.”

  Both girls raised their eyes to Corky as she entered the living room. “Naomi, I didn’t hear you come in,” Corky said.

  “How are you? Okay?” Naomi asked. “Kimmy said that you and Debra were here, so I—”

  “Want a diet Coke or something?” Corky offered. “Take off your jacket.”

  Naomi unzipped the jacket but didn’t pull it off. The pale late-afternoon sun through the window made her fiery-red hair glow. “Did you hear about Lauren?” she asked.

  Corky lowered herself onto the arm of the couch. “Huh? What about her?”

  “She went to Ms. Closter and begged to be an alternate,” Naomi replied.

  “An alternate? We’ve never had an alternate before.”

  Naomi nodded. “I know. But she got Ms. Closter to agree to it. Lauren will be like the seventh member of the squad. She told Ms. Closter she’d come to every practice and learn all the routines. Just in case—”

  “Just in case what?” Corky demanded.

  “In case something bad happens to one of us,” Naomi replied softly. “Then Lauren would be ready to take her place.”

  “What else could happen?” Debra declared, rolling her eyes.

  “Lauren said it was Ivy’s idea,” Naomi revealed.

  Corky shook her head. “Well, fine,” she said. “If being an alternate will make Lauren happy—fine. But Debra is right. The worst has already happened. Nothing else is going to happen to us. Right?”

  “Right,” Debra and Naomi repli
ed in unison.

  A tisket, a tasket,

  We want a BASKET!

  A tisket, a tasket—

  “Ow!” Heather cried. “Stop!”

  The other cheerleaders landed heavily, still cheering.

  Heather hobbled away from the line, holding her left calf. “Ow! Man!” she moaned.

  “Heather—what’s wrong?” Ms. Closter hurried up to her.

  “Just a leg cramp,” Heather groaned, bending to rub the calf. “There. It’s better.” She shook her head. “What a sharp pain!”

  “Should I step in for her?” Lauren called from the sidelines.

  “It won’t be necessary,” Ms. Closter replied. “I think you know this routine well enough. I want to drag out the confetti cannons and see if we can get them to work.”

  Corky glanced up at the gym clock. Eight-twenty. Thursday night. The cheerleaders seldom had night practices. But Ms. Closter had called this one since they’d had a couple of days off. And since the pep rally for the tournament was scheduled for the following day, the last day of school before winter vacation.

  Corky smiled as Heather flashed her a thumbs-up sign and returned to the other girls. The practice had started slowly.

  I think everyone is uncomfortable being back in the gym, Corky told herself. Every time we glance up at the bleachers, we’re reminded of what happened to Rochelle.

  But once they’d warmed up with a long aerobics routine followed by some double cartwheels and several cheers, the girls seemed to be in the right spirit.

  “Ivy is really a fast learner,” Kimmy whispered to Corky. “She already knows some of the routines better than Naomi.”

  “Yeah, she’s good,” Corky agreed.

  Lauren worked out with the cheerleaders too, staying at the end of the line, concentrating hard on the others, trying to pick up the moves and learn the words. She and Corky avoided each other’s eyes. Corky couldn’t forget what Lauren had said about Alex.

  “Corky? Kimmy? Come help me,” Ms. Closter instructed. The three of them rolled the large cannons to the middle of the gym floor and pointed them at the empty bleachers.