Double Date (12 page)

Melanie scowled. It was obvious she wasn't glad to see him.

“We're going to the late show at the Tenplex,” Arnie volunteered. “Want to come?”

Melanie flashed Arnie a dirty look. She turned to Bobby. “What are you doing here? You run out of twins?”

Bobby laughed. “Funny you should mention that. I just came over to tell Arnie some news. But I'm glad you're here, Melanie.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks a bunch.”

“You've known the Wade twins forever, right?” Bobby asked her.

Melanie nodded. “I told you that. Since we were kids.”

“But you didn't tell me there were
three
sisters,” Bobby said, studying her expression.

“Whoa!” Arnie cried. “Three of them! Did you go out with the third one too, Bobby? That's
got
to be some kind of record!” He slapped Bobby a high-five.

But Bobby kept his eyes on Melanie, who still hadn't reacted to the news in any way.

“Well, Mel?” Bobby asked. “Is it true? Are they really triplets?”

“Don't call me Mel,” Melanie snapped. “You know I hate that.”

“Answer the question,” Bobby insisted.

Melanie hesitated. “I can't say, Bobby.”

Bobby's smile faded. “What's
that
supposed to mean?”

“It means I can't say,” Melanie repeated coldly. “Who told you there was another sister?”

“Bree did. Just now,” Bobby told her, his eyes trained on hers. “So is it true?”

“I can't say,” Melanie repeated sharply. “How many times do I have to repeat it?”

“Why can't you say?” Bobby demanded.

Melanie hesitated. “Because I promised,” she said softly.

“So it
is
true!” Bobby cried. “You promised Bree and Samantha you wouldn't tell anyone about Jennilynn! Right? Right?”

“Maybe,” Melanie said. Then she quickly added, “I mean, maybe yes, maybe no. I made a promise, Bobby. So don't ask me anything more.” She gave Arnie a shove. “Come on. We're going to be late.”

Arnie grinned at Bobby. “Triplets! Wow!” He turned to Melanie. “How come it's such a big-deal secret?”

“It's a long story,” Melanie told him with a sigh. She frowned at Bobby. “Bye, Bobby. It's been great.”

Bobby felt too pumped to go home. He cruised around town, the radio on low, thinking about the Wades.

I'm going to dump them both, he decided. Time to move on to some fresh faces. Why should I deprive all the other girls of Bobby the Man?

But then he thought, Maybe I'll drop Bree and keep seeing Samantha. Samantha is exciting. And she
loves
to make out. It would be hard to give up those long, passionate kisses, he thought.

The blood-covered monkey head floated into his thoughts. He remembered the slashed tires, the shock on the auditorium stage.

No, the Wades are too much trouble, he decided. I never bargained for a psycho third sister! Jennilynn plays too rough. I've got to get
out
of this before Jennilynn does something else. I could get killed!

I'll dump them both tomorrow. Easy come, easy go, he told himself.

But as he pulled up his drive a little before twelve, Bobby realized he was totally confused. He didn't know
what
he wanted to do about the Wades.

“Too foxy to drop, too dangerous to keep,” he muttered to himself as he let himself in the front door.

He decided maybe he'd play along for a little while.

The next afternoon, an overcast Sunday with dark storm clouds rolling across the sky, Bobby met Samantha in the parking lot of the mall.

She wore a navy blue short-sleeved pullover and baggy, faded jeans. She had a Black Sox baseball cap pulled on over her hair.

“What happened last night?” Samantha demanded immediately without any greeting. “You brought Bree home so early. And she ran up to her room very upset. Did you break up with her?”

Bobby shook his head. “Unh-unh.”

Samantha frowned in disappointment. “Well then, what happened?”

“She—uh—told me about Jennilynn,” Bobby replied softly.

“Huh?” Samantha's mouth dropped open. She narrowed her eyes at Bobby beneath the cap.

“She told me your other sister must be back,” Bobby revealed. “You know. Jennilynn.”

Samantha's face paled. The light seemed to fade from her eyes. “Oh, no,” she moaned. She shook her head. “Poor Bree. Poor Bree must be in bad shape again.”

Bobby swallowed hard. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Samantha grabbed Bobby's arm, as if for support, and leaned against his car. “There
is
no Jennilynn, Bobby,” she whispered. “We don't
have
a third sister.”

“
T
ake me home. Right now,” Samantha demanded, her eyes burning into Bobby's. “I've got to tell Mom and Dad. We've got to deal with Bree.”

“But—I don't understand,” Bobby replied. “What are you saying?”

Samantha uttered an unhappy sigh. “Bree hasn't done this in years, Bobby. When she was troubled, she used to make up these stories about Jennilynn, about our having a third sister. She would make up frightening stories about Jennilynn, horrible fantasies about this imaginary evil sister.”

“Fantasies? They were all fantasies?” Bobby stared at her, dumbfounded.

Samantha nodded grimly. “That's how we could tell when Bree was in trouble,” she said softly. “Whenever she started talking about Jennilynn, we knew that Bree was about to go over the edge.”

Bobby swallowed hard and shook his head. “Wow,” he muttered. “Wow. Wow.”

“Drive me home, Bobby,” Samantha insisted. “I'm really worried about Bree. Why do you think she told you those lies? Do you think she found out about you and me—and it messed up her mind?”

“I can't believe the Jennilynn story isn't true,” Bobby said. “The way she told it—she made it so real, I—I …” His voice trailed off.

“Bobby, why are you staring at me like that?” Samantha asked.

“I just had a thought,” Bobby told her. He reached for the collar of her pullover shirt.

Startled, she backed away. “Hey!”

“Would you do me a favor, Samantha? Would you let me see your shoulder?” he asked.

“My shoulder?” She laughed. “What's your problem, Bobby?” Her hand went up to the neck of the navy blue shirt.

“Come on, Samantha. Let me see your left shoulder for a second.”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “You're getting weird, Bobby.” She pulled on her shirt collar, revealing her bare shoulder.

No tattoo.

“Where's your tattoo, Samantha?” Bobby demanded, narrowing his eyes at her.

She pulled the collar back into place. “Tattoo? Get serious. You know I don't have a tattoo.”

Bobby stared at her. “What about that afternoon in the science lab? Remember? You showed me the
butterfly tattoo? You said it was the way to tell you from Bree?”

Her mouth dropped open. She pressed the palm of one hand against his forehead. “Do you have a fever? Are you delirious? I never showed you any tattoo in the science lab.”

“Then who
was
it?” Bobby demanded shrilly.

“Are you losing it too?” Samantha asked, her expression turning to concern. “Come on, Bobby. Get a grip. I've got to get home and deal with Bree. Don't you start imagining things too!”

Later that night Bobby sat at his desk, staring at the pale blue wall, listening to the rain patter against the bedroom window. He couldn't concentrate on his homework.

It's lucky there's no school tomorrow, he thought, staring at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. The high school was closed because of a teachers' meeting. Maybe I'll be able to think clearly tomorrow. Maybe I'll be able to write my book report then.

Or will I
ever
be able to think clearly again? he wondered.

He kept picturing Samantha in the dimly lit science lab, the devilish grin on her face as she showed him the tiny tattoo. And he kept picturing Bree's troubled expression, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap as she sat beside him in the car and told him about their third sister, Jennilynn.

One of them is messing with my mind, Bobby thought bitterly.

One of them is a total liar. But which one?

Did Bree make up Jennilynn? Is the third sister just Bree's fantasy?

Or was Samantha trying to cover up her family's dark secret?

Was Samantha lying? Or was Bree?

The rain pounded against the windowpane now. Lightning flashed.

As Bobby waited for the boom of thunder, the phone rang.

“Whoa!” he cried out, startled, his voice drowned out by the thunder's roar. He picked up the cordless phone and pushed the talk button. “Hello?”

The girl's voice on the other end was harsh and impatient. “Bobby, this is Jennilynn.”

“Huh?”

“I saw you in the mall parking lot with Bree this afternoon, Bobby.”

“No, wait,” Bobby protested, his heart pounding. “That wasn't Bree. It was Samantha.”

“I know my own sister!” the voice snapped angrily. “It was Bree.”

How could it have been Bree?
Bobby wondered, thinking hard.
It had to be Samantha!

And who is this?

Is it really Jennilynn?

Did Samantha lie to me this afternoon?

Why did she tell me there was no third sister? This girl's voice is different. Harsher. Much deeper. Jennilynn certainly sounds real to me!

“When are we going to kill her, Bobby?” the voice
demanded. “You promised. You promised we'd kill her. When?”

“Whoa. Hold on a minute—” Bobby pleaded.

“It's got to be soon, Bobby,” she said menacingly. “Very soon. You're starting to make me angry. You're starting to make me
very
angry!”

H
e tried calling Samantha the next morning, but the line was busy—and stayed busy for hours. When he called again after lunch, the phone rang and rang and no one answered.

The rain stopped just before noon, and a bright sun burned through the clouds. Bobby's parents were at work. He had the house to himself. He hoped that the quiet would help him concentrate on his book report.

He quickly found he was too upset, too confused, to write a single sentence.

He tried mowing the backyard, thinking a little physical exercise might help him forget about the Wades, about Jennilynn and her angry threat. But the grass was still wet from the night's downpour, too wet to mow.

When one of the Wade sisters pulled up the driveway in her parents' white convertible at a little after five, Bobby was almost relieved. At
last
I can get some answers! he thought.

He ran down the driveway to greet her. She had the top down. He recognized the magenta sleeveless midriff and knew for sure it was Samantha. Bree never dressed that boldly.

“Hey—how'd you get the car? I thought you didn't have a license!” he called.

She laughed. “My parents weren't home,” she explained. “So I took it.”

He leaned against her side of the car. “I've been calling you, Sam. I have to talk to you. I—”

“I have to talk to you too,” she interrupted. She motioned to the passenger side. “Get in. I'll take you for a ride.”

Bobby crossed to the other side of the car and reluctantly climbed in. “You're not going to drive like a maniac—are you?”

She grinned at him. “Fasten your seat belt,” she said.

A few minutes later they were speeding along Old Mill Road, heading out of town. A cool wind blew over them as the sun began to descend behind the trees.

“Jennilynn called me last night!” Bobby told her, shouting over the roar of the wind.

Samantha kept her eyes on the road. “You mean Bree,” she shouted back. “It had to be Bree.”

“She said she was Jennilynn. She said—”

“I really can't hear you,” Samantha shouted, placing her right hand on his to stop him from talking. “We'll have to talk when we get to the cabin.”

“The cabin?” He stared at her in surprise.

“We need a private place,” she said. “To talk.”

She pressed harder on the gas pedal as the houses became sparser and endless flat fields came into view. Still wet from the rain, the fields glistened under the red sun as if covered with sparkling emeralds.

The wind roared over the windshield. Bobby settled back in his seat. He glanced at Samantha. Her eyes were narrowed. He leaned forward, about to turn on the radio.

The wind was blowing the strap of her midriff. Bobby nearly fell off his seat when he spotted the tiny blue butterfly tattoo on her left shoulder.

“The tattoo!” he cried, grabbing her right shoulder. “You have the tattoo!”

She turned to glance at him, a surprised frown on her face. “Of course. What's
wrong
with you?”

“But—but—” Bobby sputtered. “You didn't have it at the mall parking lot yesterday afternoon!”

“What?” Samantha raised a hand. “I don't think I'm hearing you right. I wasn't at the mall yesterday. I didn't see you yesterday, Bobby!”

She swerved into the left lane to pass an enormous truck. It blared its horn at her as she zoomed past.

Bobby covered his ears until they were past the truck. “You've always had the tattoo?” he shouted over the wind.

She nodded. “What is your problem? I showed it to you in the science lab, remember?”

The woods came into view. Samantha turned onto the dirt road that led to the cabin.

As they began to bump over the road, dark shadows rolled over the open car. Bobby realized he was breathing hard. His temples throbbed. He felt dizzy.