"Charlie Chadwick did it," Tiffany said from the car.
"You know?" Evan asked.
"Yeah, he told us," Tiffany said. "He was bragging about it, actually."
"It wasn't one of mine, was it?" Evan asked, worried.
"He said it was just roadkill," Tiffany said.
"But you got blamed for it, as usual, right?" Ellen asked with a false sympathetic nod.
"Yeah," Evan said. "As usual."
Ellen pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into Evan's wound. "These things have a way of evening out, you know."
"Yeah," Evan agreed. What did she want? Why was she playing with him?
"You know…" Ellen said, gently turning the conversation. "I think Alicia might have a thing for you. I know she's just about finished with Scott Martin."
"Scott is such a total jerk," Tiffany said, nodding her agreement from the car.
"Anyway, we're having a surprise birthday party for Alicia tomorrow night and we want you to come," Ellen said.
A distorted smile crimped Evan's face. "I don't think I would be welcome…" he started to say.
"It's at Tiffany's house, and whoever she wants to come is welcome." Ellen glanced at Tiffany. "Right, Tiff?"
"That's right, Evan," Tiffany said. "And it's just down the street from where you live, you know, so if it isn't happening for you, you can always split."
"Interested?" Ellen asked, running a finger into the top buttonhole of his shirt.
Evan hesitated.
"No one's going to do anything to you in my house," Tiffany assured him.
"And I know Alicia would love to see you there." Ellen tucked the bloody hanky into Evan's ripped shirt pocket, next to the plastic pencil holder. Her perfume was sweet to his nostrils.
"So you wanna come?" Tiffany asked, stretching in the car with her arms high over her head. Stretching like a lazy cat. Sunlight glinted off something she wore around her neck. A crucifix.
"I guess," Evan said. What did he have to lose? He realized he was staring at Tiffany. He looked back at Ellen who was all smiles.
"It's tomorrow night at eight," Ellen said. "But don't come too early, okay? Because we'll be setting things up."
"What should I bring?" Evan asked. He had never been to a party before.
"Roses," Ellen said. "Alicia loves roses."
Evan thought for a moment. He had never bought flowers for anyone. "Where can I get them?"
"I'll show you," Ellen said. "We're driving that way. C'mon, we'll give you a lift."
Evan glanced at the MG. "There's only room for two."
"Then I guess I'll just have to sit in your lap," Ellen said suggestively.
Ellen took Evan by the arm and led him to the car.
Evan didn't protest.
Not even when his eye started to bleed again.
* * *
A day after the football-throwing incident, Alicia still couldn't get Evan's bloodied face out of her mind. She should have helped him home, at least.
And what was worse, the friends she usually could count on seemed to be turning their backs on her. They thought she was a jerk for trying to help Evan. Her best friend Tiffany seemed to prefer hanging out with Ellen now — Ellen the flirt. And certainly Scott was fed up with her. Alicia still loved Scott — he was a good guy, not like Boomer or Charlie. But even Scott was needling her a lot about Evan.
Alicia was finishing up the dinner dishes. Her birthday dinner dishes. Some party. She and her mother had eaten together in almost total silence, both of them thinking about how much fun birthdays had been when Mr. Norris was still alive. He had always been the life of the party — even when it was just the three of them. Alicia felt the tears welling up again and bit her tongue to keep from crying.
Mrs. Norris had already gone to bed, even though it was only seven-thirty.
"Snap out of it!" Alicia commanded herself. As always, when she felt herself slipping into self-pity, she imagined her father in the room with her, and felt a warm glow spread through her body. She still loved her father as she had when he was alive. Before…
The telephone shattered her thoughts. She quickly picked up the receiver before her mother would be disturbed.
It was Tiffany. And her voice was hysterical.
"Alicia — get over here right now!" Tiffany's voice screamed out from the phone. "Evan Walker is in my backyard with a hatchet. And he's threatening to kill Scott with it!"
Chapter 15
Alicia's heart was pounding. I knew it, she screamed inside herself. I knew this would happen someday. She tried not to panic. "Did you call 911?"
"I called already," came Tiffany's shaky voice. "Oh no! I can see them from the kitchen window. They're over by the pool — Evan! No! Don't! Alicia, Evan's swinging the hatchet at Scott. Get over here — Now! Evan will listen to you."
The line abruptly went dead.
Alicia stood frozen, the phone still glued to her ear. A voice inside yelled Go! And she dropped the phone and raced out the kitchen door to Tiffany's house.
Alicia expected to hear screams as she neared the big pool that dominated the Clarks' backyard. But she was greeted with an eerie silence. She listened for approaching sirens, but heard only the chirping crickets.
'Tiffany?" Alicia yelled. "Scott! Evan!"
No one answered. Alicia made her way slowly around the perimeter of the pool. Dead bugs and brown leaves from an autumn-stripped tree floated on the surface of the water.
Then she saw him. Behind an inflatable mattress. Scott was slumped against the pool.
There was a hatchet stuck in his head.
His eyes were wide open with a terror-filled stare and blood was pouring down the front of his face and onto his ratty T-shirt. More blood was splattered on the ground near the pool.
Alicia thought she might puke.
A cold gust of wind picked up dead leaves and rattled them across the backyard.
Alicia shot a frightened glance over her shoulder.
Where was Evan? Where had he gone? Was he hiding behind a tree? Behind the pool? Was he in the house looking for another weapon? Where?
Was he up in the tree?
She looked up!
No.
No sign of Evan perched in the tree branches.
No sign of Evan anywhere.
Just the whispering wind. The skittering of dead leaves.
Then Scott began to gurgle.
He was still alive!
She ran to him, but froze when she got close. She should have felt relieved that he wasn't dead, but instead she felt revolted. He looked so ghastly…
Scott's hand suddenly shot out and grabbed her ankle.
A scream ripped out of Alicia's throat. "Agghhh!"
The grip around her ankle tightened, so strong, like steel — she couldn't break free. She screamed again as Scott pulled her toward him. He reached up with his other hand and pulled her down.
Alicia screamed and screamed again.
A scream to wake the dead.
Scott pulled her to the ground next to him and kissed her. Then he laughed.
With a mighty heave, Alicia broke free and scrambled to her feet. Scott grinned up at her, still laughing. Laughing so hard tears poured from his eyes.
"Surprise!"
They came from behind the trees, from behind the bushes, from out of the kitchen. Tiffany, Boomer, Ellen, Johnny, friends from school — all laughing.
"Happy Birthday!" Tiffany shouted to Alicia, over the laughter, a huge grin across her face.
And then Alicia discovered she was laughing, too. She felt tears of relief spring to her eyes.
Those creeps. They really had her going.
Scott climbed to his feet and removed the ketchup-covered fake hatchet from his head. He tossed it into the pool with a smirk, then covered up quickly as Alicia jabbed him hard in the ribs. "I could kill you!" She looked at the grinning, laughing faces. "All you guys!"
"Come on, baby, chill out," Scott said, puckering his «bloody»
lips for another kiss.
Alicia pushed him away. "Go change before you get that gook on me." Scott giggled and walked toward the house, but not before dabbing some ketchup on Alicia's nose.
Alicia wiped the red blob away with her hand. She shivered, suddenly realizing how cold she was. She had run out of her house in just a T-shirt and jeans, and the fall night air was growing frosty cold.
"Happy birthday, Ali," Johnny said as he walked over to her with a beer in his hand.
"Thank you," she said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She crossed her arms over her chest. From somewhere inside the house music boomed on, raising a cheer from the crowd. Dancing broke out in the backyard.
"Happy Birthday," Charlie Chadwick said, joining her. A quart bottle of beer dangled from his meaty paw.
"Thank you," Alicia said, wondering how Tiffany had gotten rid of her parents. "I hope Tiffany's cat is safe around you."
Charlie laughed. "I told you I found the thing dead in the street. I wonder what happened to its eyes?" Then he said, "So where's your other boyfriend?"
"What other boyfriend?" Alicia asked, waving the smelly alcohol fumes away from her face.
"Weird Evan."
"Very funny," Alicia said. She really wasn't in the mood to be teased about Evan.
Inside the house someone turned up the music.
Tiffany appeared at Alicia's side. "Hey — you have goosebumps running all up and down your arm."
"I know," Alicia said. "I'm freezing. Do you have something I can put on?"
"There might be a clean sweatshirt or something in my dresser drawer," Tiffany said.
Alicia nodded and headed for the house.
The music was even louder inside, where a separate crowd had gathered. It felt like the walls were shaking. Sitting near the TV with a joy stick between his legs was Boomer. He looked up when he saw Alicia heading for the stairs. "Ali — happy birthday!"
"Thank you," she said with a little wave.
"Hey, come here for a moment, would ya!" Boomer shouted over the crowd noise and the music. "There's something really important I got to ask you — hurry!"
Alicia squeezed past two jocks on the football team who didn't give her much room to get by. They leered drunkenly as she passed. It seemed like all the guys had beers. Alicia had a feeling it was going to be one of those nights.
And all in her honor…
"Hurry up, Alicia!" Boomer shouted to her. "He's killing another one!" Boomer pointed to the TV screen with the joy stick. "How do I kill Bundy?"
"Huh?" Alicia asked, staring at the screen with a puzzled expression. A tiny figure was dashing across the screen chasing a tiny girl with a club or hammer or something.
"It's a new video game called 'Serial Killer. You've got to kill Bundy before he murders all the young girls."
"That is sick," Alicia said, turning her head away.
A boy from school named Bill Metcalf took a seat next to Boomer, spilling potato chips and beer on Tiffany's couch. "You can't kill him all at once, Boomer," Bill said. "You've got to do to him what he did to his victims — cut off a few parts at a time."
"How?" Boomer asked desperately. "Hurry up before he catches her!"
"You've got to find the butcher knife!" Bill said quickly. "It's hidden somewhere — look in the kitchen drawer! Try the cupboard! Maybe the sink."
Boomer fumbled rapidly with the joy stick button.
"Ooooh!" Boomer dropped the stick in disgust. "He got her," Boomer said.
Alicia was repulsed. "Is that what was so important?"
"Yeah. But it's too late now," Boomer said sadly. "He already got her. Okay, you can go…"
"Look out! Look out!" Bill was shouting, motioning to the screen. "Bundy's on the move again!" Boomer snatched up the joystick again and started clicking madly. Alicia made her way to the stairs. At the top of the stairs she headed down the hall to Tiffany's bedroom. As she passed Tiffany's parents' bedroom she paused.
The door was open a crack, and she saw Scott toweling his chest off. He must have used the Clarks' bathroom to shower. Alicia couldn't take her eyes off him. As always, she was struck by the way his muscles seemed to ripple with a life of their own. And he had the most powerful set of abdominals she had ever seen.
And he was all hers.
A delicious thrill ran through Alicia.
All hers.
With a mischievous smile she pushed the bedroom door open.
And saw Ellen!
Chapter 16
Scott's sky-blue eyes shot over to her as the door creaked open. "Ali…" he said, a little nervously, dabbing the remaining moisture from his glistening, hairless chest.
"Hi, Alicia," Ellen said in a breezy manner. "I came in here to use the little girl's room — the boys are monopolizing the downstairs bathroom — and look who I found."
Alicia glanced at the open bathroom door. The light was still on, and there was steam coming out. She shouldn't be surprised, she told herself. She had seen it coming. But like a deer caught in the headlights, she just stood there, doing nothing. Nothing to save herself. Nothing to save her relationship with Scott.
"I had to shower to get all that gook off me," Scott said a little sheepishly. He slipped on a clean white T-shirt, probably one of Mr. Clark's. It was a little tight and Scott's muscles bulged beneath it.
"I think the bathroom's free now, Ellen," Alicia said. Her voice sounded catty to her. She hated playing the role of the jealous girlfriend. Ellen's eyes rolled lazily to the bathroom door, and she got up from the bed and entered the steamy bathroom.
The bathroom door clicked shut.
Scott smiled uneasily.
"I guess I'll see you downstairs," Alicia said angrily. "Unless you want to wait for Ellen!" She regretted saying anything. If Scott knew how upset she was, he'd just be defensive. He'd turn it around so she'd have to defend herself against being overly possessive. She spun around and left the room before Scott could reply. Inside Tiffany's bedroom, she pulled out a green-and-white Springwood High sweatshirt from the dresser and slipped it on. Then she made her way back down the hallway to the top of the stairs.
"Hey, Alicia, look who's here," Tiffany said from the foot of the stairs.
At the bottom of the staircase stood Evan.
He looked up at her with a hesitant smile. Alicia noticed that he was holding something behind his back.
Some of the noise quieted down. The crowd saw that Evan had arrived.
"You're a little late for a surprise birthday party, dude!" someone wisecracked. Some of the kids laughed.
Evan gave Tiffany a disappointed look. Tiffany just shrugged. "I guess Ellen gave you the wrong time."
"I guess," Evan said, unconvinced.
Pearl Jam's «Jeremy» blasted from the stereo speakers as Alicia hurried down the stairs. 'Thanks for coming, Evan," she said, glaring at Tiffany.
Evan smiled. "These are for you." From behind his back Evan brought out a bouquet of red roses.
Alicia's face puckered into a tight wrinkle, and then a sneeze exploded out of her.
"Whoa!" someone yelled. Others convulsed into laughter.
"Excuse me, Evan," Alicia said, digging into her jeans pocket for a handkerchief to wipe her runny nose. But she didn't have one. "I have a s-s-severe allergy t-to roses…"
Another sneeze exploded from her nostrils, partially blocked this time by the sleeve of Tiffany's sweatshirt, as the crowd roared again.
"Get Evan's present, Johnny," Ellen said from the stairs. She was standing next to Scott.
"Oh, no," Scott groaned.
Ellen laughed so hard she almost lost her balance on the narrow staircase. Scott slipped his hand around her narrow waist to keep her from falling.
Johnny reappeared from another room with Evan's clay girl. Except now it looked a lot different. Heavy makeup was smeared on what had once been its delicate face, and it had candles sticking out of its torso.
"Happy Birthday to you," the crowd started to sing.
Alicia felt sick to her stomach.
What had once been a work of art was now a ridiculous sideshow. But it was still unmistakably her. How could they? Alicia turned to Evan. His face was as pale as flour and his hands were trembling. He dropped the bouquet of roses, which scattered at his feet.
Then the crowd suddenly swooped Evan up and passed him over their heads in a long snake line that went out the kitchen door and to the pool.
Alicia stood stunned.
Things happened so quickly she had no time to react as Evan disappeared out the door. She heard a loud splash and a cheer went up from the backyard crowd. Evan had been dunked in the freezing cold water. Alicia pushed her way through the crowd, which was buzzing louder than ever now with excitement and laughter. People were exchanging high fives.
What a disaster, Alicia moaned to herself as she ran to the pool. The first few drops of rain had begun to fall. But before she could reach Evan, he had pulled himself out of the pool.
"Evan!" Alicia called, running to him.
But he was already hopping over the back fence.
He disappeared into the gloom of the night.
Chapter 17
The rain fell in heavy sheets, driven by a wind that seemed to have a mind of its own.
But for some reason Alicia couldn't guess at, Scott drove faster. The Chevy must now be doing at least fifty on the rain-soaked residential street.
Scott's varsity jacket was lying on the seat between them. She slipped it on. The sweatshirt she had borrowed from Tiffany was soaking wet, and she felt chilled.
Then Scott started fiddling with the car radio, the radio that hadn't worked in about ten years.
Alicia tried to stay calm. It wasn't the first time she'd been subjected to his erratic driving.
The car wipers were probably as old as the car itself, and worked about as well, making the world outside look like a big blur.
Alicia figured Scott was mad about having to leave the party, and driving crazy was his way of getting even. He was succeeding. She was scared.
"Slow down," Alicia said angrily for the third time. "I'd like to live to see my next birthday if you don't mind."
Blind Date Page 6
