The Stepsister

by R. L. Stine

  “What on earth happened?” Nancy asked, running her hand through Emily’s hair tenderly, pushing it back off her forehead. “Why were you fighting?”

  “She erased my entire report,” Emily said, sobbing despite her attempts to calm down.

  “Do you think it was on purpose?”

  “It had to be,” Emily insisted. “All that work. Lost. Now I’ll flunk social studies for sure.”

  “Emily, calm down,” Nancy said softly. “I’m sure Mr. Harrison will understand.”

  “Oh, sure,” Emily wailed. “He’ll really believe me, won’t he! I might just as well tell him the dog ate my homework!”

  “Well, you’ve still got your notes, right? You can rewrite it.”

  “It’ll take weeks!” Emily sobbed. “I’d already written fourteen pages. And now they’re gone.”

  Nancy handed her a tissue. Emily wiped her eyes. “So you accused Jessie of erasing your report?” Nancy asked. “Then what happened?”

  “Then I totally lost it,” Emily said, the words catching in her throat. “I don’t know. I just went bananas. She made me so mad—”

  “You know, you really have to go easy on Jessie,” Nancy said, shoving the box of tissues into her sister’s lap.

  “Huh?”

  “Jessie has a lot of problems,” Nancy said. She pulled herself back onto the pillows and leaned against the headboard.

  “What do you mean?” Emily was confused.

  “Mom told me yesterday. She said Jessie has some serious emotional problems. She sees a shrink twice a week.”

  “Really? I didn’t know that.” Emily blew her nose. She was starting to feel a little steadier.

  “I guess that was one of the hard adjustments for Jessie when she moved here,” Nancy said, getting up and closing the bedroom door.

  “You mean—”

  “She had to leave her psychiatrist behind and find a new one here in Shadyside.” Nancy resumed her place on the bed.

  “How come? What kind of emotional problems?” Emily asked, whispering even though the door was now closed.

  Nancy shrugged her narrow shoulders. “You know Mom. She wouldn’t tell me. Mom never likes unpleasant details.”

  “Tell me about it!” Emily groaned, rolling her eyes. Her mother didn’t even want to hear why she went berserk a few minutes ago. “She didn’t tell you anything?”

  “Well, she did a little.” Nancy leaned forward and whispered, her face close to Emily’s. Emily could smell peppermint on her breath. “She said Jessie got into serious trouble at her old school. Something really bad happened.”

  “What?” Emily asked eagerly.

  “Mom didn’t say.”

  “Didn’t you ask her?”

  “I wanted to,” Nancy said, lying back on the bed. “But Rich came home just then. And that was the end of the conversation.”

  “Something really bad happened, huh? That’s what Mom said? I’ll bet that’s why Jessie’s mother was in such a hurry to send her here.”

  “Maybe,” Nancy said. “We’ll never get the details from Mom. Especially not now. Just be careful with her, Em. Try to keep out of her way—okay? She’s a very troubled girl.”

  Emily started to say something, but the doorbell rang downstairs. “That must be Josh,” she said, looking at the clock on Nancy’s shelf. “Nine o’clock. You know Josh—Mister Prompt.” She pulled open the bedroom door. “Thanks for the talk, Nance.”

  Nancy shrugged. She looked just like their mother when she did that, Emily thought. Emily closed the door behind her and headed down to greet Josh. As she passed her room, she peeked inside and saw Jessie working intently on the computer. Emily continued down the stairs, thinking about Nancy’s warning.

  “Hi. Did you get your report finished?” Josh asked, wiping his work boots on the floor mat before following her into the living room. He tossed his down coat onto a chair and plopped down on the brown corduroy couch.

  Emily sighed. “That’s a long story.”

  She sat down beside him, thinking how glad she was to see him. He looks so cute, she thought. She loved his black, curly hair and his dark, intense eyes. He was short, at least an inch shorter than she, but it didn’t bother her. He was so energetic, so fast-talking, so quick-moving that it somehow made up for his shortness of stature. He was wearing a gray and maroon Shadyside High sweatshirt and faded jeans. She just wanted to cuddle up with him and not say a word.

  “Want to tell it to me?” he asked. “I’m in the mood for a long story.”

  “You just want to avoid studying,” she said, giving him a playful shove.

  A grin slowly spread across his face. He looks ten years old when he grins like that, she thought. “What have you got to eat?” he asked. He ate as much as ten boys, but somehow he stayed really skinny.

  She took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. She made him a bologna and Swiss cheese sandwich and loaded his plate up with potato chips. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?” he asked.

  “I don’t eat six meals a day like you,” she cracked.

  “This is only my fifth,” he replied, biting into the sandwich, getting mustard over his top lip. “Besides, this is just a snack. Are you going to tell me what happened to your report?”

  “I guess.” She pulled out a kitchen chair and scooted in across the table from him. She told him the whole story as she watched him eat the sandwich and potato chips. “Well, what do you think?” she asked when she was finished.

  “I think I’d like to meet her,” he joked. “She sounds really great.”

  “Very funny. Remind me later to laugh,” she said sarcastically, and got up and headed to the living room.

  He caught up with her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Sorry. Bad joke. I was just trying to keep it light.”

  “It isn’t light. It’s serious,” Emily insisted. She pulled away from him and sat down on the couch.

  “Well, I think you should wait until you’re calm and then go discuss it with your mother.”

  “I can’t,” Emily said with some bitterness. “Mom never wants to hear about any problems. Especially now. She’s off on cloud nine with her new husband. You should see them, making out like teenagers. It’s really disgusting.”

  Josh leapt over the couch back into her lap. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me!”

  Emily shoved him hard and he toppled to the floor. “The only person I have to confide in is Nancy,” she said.

  Josh looked up at her uncomfortably. He always looked uncomfortable whenever she mentioned Nancy. Maybe he feels guilty for dumping her, Emily thought. If he only knew that she had been about to dump him. Whenever Josh ran into Nancy at her house, they got along fine and chatted like old friends. But Emily could tell that Josh was nervous around Nancy and not really himself.

  “Hey, are we going to study, or what?” Josh asked, picking up the notebooks he had brought.

  “I guess we can try,” Emily said without enthusiasm.

  Her mind was still on Jessie, on the fight they’d had, on having to face her again later. And she thought about Nancy’s warning. What kind of bad trouble had Jessie been in? Emily wondered.

  After less than an hour she slammed her textbook shut. “I can’t concentrate,” she said, tossing the book onto the floor.

  Josh tossed his book down too. Then he slid closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close to him. He felt so warm, so safe. His skin smelled sweet to Emily. She kissed him on the cheek, and then he turned her face and kissed her on the lips.

  Suddenly she pulled away from him and uttered a whispered cry. She had a funny feeling that they were being watched.

  “What’s wrong?” Josh whispered, moving to resume their kiss.

  Emily looked toward the front stairway. The hall was dark, but in the shadows she could see someone watching them from the staircase.

  Jessie.

  She’s taken over my room, she’s wearing my clothes, and now she�
�s spying on me, Emily thought angrily. Well, there’s one thing of mine that she can’t have—Josh. I hope the little Peeping Tom enjoys the show.

  Emily reached up with both hands, pulled Josh’s face to hers, closed her eyes, and kissed him with renewed passion.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  A soft voice woke Emily from a deep sleep. She looked for the clock on her night-table, then remembered that the night-table was next to Jessie’s bed now.

  She closed her eyes, but the voice continued in a loud whisper. Jessie’s voice. Emily was half-awake. It must be very late, she thought. The sky outside the bedroom window was black and starless.

  In the darkness she could see Jessie on the other side of the room, sitting on the floor in the corner beside the desk. She was talking on the phone.

  Who can she be calling this late at night? Emily wondered, her mind still fogged by sleep. She could just barely make out a few words Jessie was saying. She seemed to be having an intense, whispered conversation with someone.

  Who was it? What was she talking about so seriously, so heatedly?

  Emily raised her head from the pillow to hear better.

  “I could kill her,” Jessie was saying into the phone. “I really could kill her.”

  Chapter

  5

  Surprise in the Shower

  Emily was standing right under the bell when it rang, signaling the end of the school day. She clapped her hands over her ears, dropping her books in the process, but it was too late. “I’m deaf for life!” she exclaimed.

  “What did you say?” her friend Kathy joked, holding a hand up to her ear.

  “Very funny.” Emily bent down to pick up her books.

  “How’d you do on the trig test?” Kathy asked, waving to someone across the hall.

  “Good. Terrible. I don’t know,” Emily told her. The hall filled with kids. Lockers slammed. Voices echoed down the long tiled corridor. “Do you see Josh? He was supposed to meet me here.”

  “I don’t see him. Hey—there’s Della. Hey, Della—wait up!” Kathy shouted, and took off down the hall.

  Standing up, Emily was bumped from behind and nearly dropped her books again. “Sorry,” a voice said. It was Ricky Schorr, loaded down with a tall stack of textbooks he was most likely taking to the book room.

  “Hey, Ricky—can I borrow a quarter?” someone called. Everyone in earshot laughed.

  Emily looked for Josh. He was always so punctual, she never could believe it when he was actually a minute or two late. She said hello to Lisa Blume and Cory Brooks, who were inseparable these days, then walked down the corridor and turned the corner where Josh’s locker was. But he wasn’t there either.

  Finally she spotted him halfway down the hall. “Hey, Josh.” But when she saw the girl he was talking to, Emily stopped short. Her words caught in her throat.

  He was leaning against a locker, talking enthusiastically to Jessie, gesturing with his hands, smiling. The two of them were standing very close to each other. As Emily watched in surprise from down the hall, Josh said something, and he and Jessie burst out laughing.

  “They’re laughing at me,” Emily told herself. “Hey—stop. Don’t start getting paranoid.”

  But what was going on?

  Emily had introduced Josh to Jessie a few days after their big fight. They had had a pleasant, short conversation, a little awkward but not too bad.

  So what did they have to talk about now? And why had Josh completely forgotten about the fact that he was supposed to meet Emily?

  “Hi, Emily.”

  Emily spun around, startled by the girl’s voice. It was Krysta Meyers, a tiny, loud-voiced girl she never could stand. Krysta had become friends with Jessie. In fact, she was the only friend Jessie had made so far at Shadyside.

  “Oh, hi, Krysta.”

  “Have you seen Jessie?” Krysta asked, squinting. She needed glasses but was too vain to wear them.

  “She’s right over there, talking to Josh,” Emily said, pointing. She suddenly felt foolish, standing in the middle of the hall like a traffic director.

  Krysta hurried off to collect Jessie. Emily watched the two girls walk off, then she hurried up to Josh. “Oh. Hi,” he said, looking a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t get over to you. I—”

  “What were you and Jessie chatting about?” Emily asked. She didn’t mean it to come out as accusing as it did.

  “Nothing,” Josh said, walking across the hall to his locker and starting to turn the combination lock.

  “Nothing?”

  “I was just talking to her,” he said, pulling off the lock and opening the door. “I think she’s lonely. She hasn’t made any friends yet. Just Krysta.”

  “She would pick a girl I hate for a friend!” Emily exclaimed, and then immediately regretted it. “Wow. I sound really nasty today, don’t I?”

  Josh didn’t reply. He had his head in his locker, searching for something. He probably hadn’t even heard her.

  “I thought you and Jessie were getting along better,” he said, pulling his head out.

  “Well, there hasn’t been any bloodshed, if that’s what you mean,” Emily said, frowning. “Actually, we’ve been pretty much giving each other a lot of space. It hasn’t been too bad. She even helped me retype my report.”

  “Really? Maybe she’s not a bad kid after all,” Josh said, waving to some guys down the hall.

  “Maybe . . .” Emily said doubtfully. Jessie was still making late-night phone calls every night. When Mr. Wallner had asked her if she had been on the phone late at night, Jessie had lied and said no.

  “Hey, do we have to talk about Jessie all afternoon?” Emily asked, giving Josh a playful shove into his locker.

  “No. Who should we talk about?” he asked, laughing.

  “I thought we were going to talk about the Homecoming dance.”

  “Okay. What’s to talk about?” He slammed his locker shut and locked it.

  “Well, it is Friday night, you know.”

  “Right. I know, Em. I’ll be there. How about you?” He laughed.

  She didn’t crack a smile. “Sometimes I think you take me for granted.”

  “That’s okay,” he said, leading the way out the door. “You can take me for granted too.”

  Can I? Emily wondered. She pictured him leaning so close to Jessie, talking and laughing with her in the hallway a few minutes before.

  What were they talking about, anyway?

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Two nights later, Jessie and Emily found themselves in the kitchen.

  “Three canisters of whipped cream? Who bought three canisters?” Emily asked.

  Jessie picked them up one by one and examined them as if searching for the answer to Emily’s question. “Beats me. But I guess we have enough whipped cream to make this cake.”

  “Do we have the chocolate wafers?” Emily asked, standing on tiptoes to search the baking supplies cabinet over the stove.

  “Probably not,” Jessie replied. “Maybe we’ll just make a whipped cream cake.”

  “I can’t find the chocolate wafers. How can we make icebox cake without chocolate wafers?” Emily moaned.

  Jessie flipped open one of the whipped cream canisters, pushed the top, and squirted a big, creamy blob of whipped cream into her mouth.

  “Hey, stop—” Emily scolded. “We may need that.”

  Jessie laughed. “Three cans?! We couldn’t eat three cans of whipped cream if we tried.”

  “I could!” Emily cracked. They both laughed.

  Emily looked at the clock. Nine-thirty. “Come on, it’s late,” she said. “Why are we making a whipped cream cake this late? I’ve still got homework.”

  “Because we’re starving!” Jessie declared. She shot another big blob of whipped cream into her mouth.

  “But how can we do it without the chocolate wafers?” Emily complained. “Give me some of that.” She opened her mouth wide.

  Jessie turned the can around and pushed the to
p. The whipped cream squirted all over Emily’s chin.

  “Hey!”

  “Sorry!” Jessie burst out laughing. Her blue eyes sparkled mischievously.

  “This means war!” Emily declared, picking up a canister and pulling off the red plastic top.

  “No, wait—wait—” Jessie raised her arms protectively and backed away from Emily. “That was an accident. Hey—this is a clean sweatshirt!”

  Emily sent a spray of whipped cream up and down the front of Jessie’s sweatshirt. “Z for Zorro! Olé!” she cried.

  But Jessie was on the offensive before Emily’s mouth closed. She shot a white blob of cream into Emily’s mouth. “Bull’s-eye!” she cried, and continued spraying until Emily’s face was covered.

  Both girls, laughing so hard they could barely stand, let go with long accurate barrages. “Hey—not so loud! Mom and Hugh are upstairs in their room!” Emily cried.

  “Truce! Truce! It’s all over the floor!” Jessie said, her sneakers sliding over a wet spot on the linoleum.

  Emily moved forward on the attack, slipped, and fell on her face. Jessie immediately bent down and sprayed Emily’s back. Now both girls were laughing too hard to shoot accurately. The whipped cream flew up to the kitchen window curtains.

  “Uh-oh!”

  This started them laughing hysterically. They were both down on the floor now.

  This is the most fun I’ve had in ages, Emily thought, wiping whipped cream from her sneaker laces. Maybe Jessie isn’t so bad after all. She’s actually pretty terrific now that she’s loosening up.

  “YAAIIII!” Another full frontal attack from Jessie sent whipped cream all over the refrigerator door.

  “What’s going on in here?”

  Both girls stopped and looked up to see Nancy stride into the kitchen in her striped pajamas, a bewildered look on her face.

  “Let her have it!” Emily declared.

  Nancy tried to back up, but she was hit full force by two streams of whipped cream at once. “Hey—my pajamas! My hair!” she cried, but Emily and Jessie didn’t relent.

  “Three can play at this,” Nancy declared.

  Emily reached for the third canister, but Nancy dived and got there first. She had trouble popping the lid off. The other two girls took full advantage of her trouble, spraying her nonstop.