Party Games (4 page)

I didn't want to, but I suddenly felt angry all over again.

Beth flashed into my mind. If only Beth were around. She was so smart and had such common sense. She would know how to help me get calm. Beth would say, “Get over it, Rachel. You're done with that creep. Just wipe him from your mind.”

I let out a long sigh and gazed around the crowded gym. It was close to game time and the bleachers were already jammed to the top. I stood by the steps at the side and searched row by row for Amy. Then I remembered I had gotten a text from her. She was having some problem with her parents and said she might be late.

I climbed to the next-to-the-top row and slid onto the bench. I pulled off my hoodie and put it down beside me to save a seat for Amy. Down on the floor, the hoops were ringing with the sound of guys throwing in layups. The Sharks were practicing at the other side of the court. Their uniforms were gray and black. Shark colors, I guess.

On our side, I saw Kerry Reacher bending, stretching his leg muscles. Kerry was about a foot taller than everyone else on the Tigers. Our team had a three-and-six record. Major fail. But everyone knew that Kerry was going to be named All-State again this year.

I searched the bleachers for Mac. But I knew he wouldn't be here. He never came to any games.

I turned to see Eric Finn bounce onto the bench beside me. I shoved him. “Hey, you're sitting on my hoodie.”

“I know,” he said, grinning his toothy grin right in my face. “The wood bench is too hard.”

“But I'm saving the seat for somebody,” I said, tugging the sleeve of the hoodie. No way I could pull it out from under the big dude.

“Saving it for me?” he said. “Thanks. I didn't know you cared.”

“I'm crazy about you,” I said. “But I'm saving the seat for Amy.”

“If she comes, you can sit here.” He patted his lap. He was kind of cute with all those freckles on his big round baby face. He jumped up and shouted to some guys down near the floor. I saw Patti Berger in the second row. She was with her friend April Conklin. They were both watching Kerry intently as he practiced free throws.

Eric gave me a poke in the ribs with his elbow. “Guess you're dying to hang with me at Brendan's party. I might let you, if you beg.”

He was leaning his heavy shoulder on me. I pushed him upright. “Have you been to his birthday parties before? You have, right?”

“Yeah. They're awesome,” he said. He brushed back his wavy blond hair. “Totally wild. I mean, like out of control.”

I laughed. “What
do
you mean?”

He leaned on me again. “You know. You know what happens when a bunch of us spend the night together and there are no parents around.”

“You mean it's
that
kind of party?”

“You can never predict Brendan. He always has some surprises. You know. He's the game master. We all bow down to his brilliance.” He bowed down and nearly fell onto the row of seats in front of us.

I laughed. “You know what your problem is. You're way too serious. You should lighten up.”

“Everyone tells me that.”

The next question just blurted from my mouth. “Why do you think Brendan invited me to his birthday party? I've seen him around school forever. But we're not really friends.”

Eric pinched my nose. “I think he likes you.”

“Huh?” I shoved his hand away. “What do you mean? How do you know?”

He shrugged. “He told me.”

“He
told
you what? What did he say?” Why was my heart flip-flopping in my chest?

A sly grin spread over Eric's chubby face. “What's it worth to you?”

“Don't be a jerk, Eric. Tell me what he said.”

“We passed you in the hall, after Earth Sciences. Brendan said he wanted to jump you right there in the hall. He said you were the hottest, most awesome girl in school.”

I shoved him again. “You idiot.”

“Okay. Well, he didn't exactly say that. He said he liked you. At least, I
think
it was you. There were a whole bunch of girls in the hall. Now that I think about it, it was probably someone else.”

I shook my head. “You're making it all up. You're such a liar, Eric.”

“I know. But I'm cute. Right?”

I turned away from him, thinking about Brendan. Maybe he just invited me on an impulse because he saw me in Lefty's. Or maybe he really did like me. No way I'd get a straight answer from Eric.

A buzzer rang out, echoing off the tile walls of the gym. The teams stopped their practice shots and trotted to the benches at the sidelines. Two referees in black-and-white striped shirts moved to the center of the court.

I heard musical chimes. It took me a few seconds to realize that my phone was ringing. I dug it out of my hoodie pocket and raised the screen to my face.

Amy calling.

“Amy? Hi. Where are you? The game is starting.”

“Forget the game,” Amy said. “I can't come. I've been grounded. My stupid parents are acting stupid again.”

“Why? What happened?”

The crowd suddenly jumped to their feet and roared. The Tigers came trotting to the center of the floor. I couldn't hear Amy's answer.

“Can I come over?” I shouted, pressing the phone hard to my ear. “Is it okay if I come over?”

“You'll miss the game.”

“I don't care about the game,” I said. “See you in a few minutes.”

I jumped up and tried to squeeze past Eric. But he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me onto his lap. “Rachel, you know you're crazy about me. Why are you fighting it?”

I patted his cheek. “Do you want to be my date for Brendan's party?”

He laughed. “Not really.”

I pulled myself to my feet and scooted to the aisle. “See you tomorrow,” I called to Eric. But he was already talking to the girl next to him.

The whistle blew and the game started. I stepped along the edge of the playing floor, pushing open the double doors, and walked into the hall. The roar faded behind me as the gym doors closed.

I was thinking about Amy as I walked to the back of the school. The hall was empty. Everyone was in the gym watching the game. Amy's parents were always on her case. She never wanted to say why. She always said they were stupid. I knew they fought all the time. And it never seemed it was about anything important.

I was there one afternoon when Amy's mom told her she needed a total attitude adjustment. Amy just stared at her, and said, “
You're
the one with the attitude. Not me.”

That got Amy grounded for a week.

Pretty stupid.

I stepped out onto the student parking lot in back of the school. It was a clear, cold night. I could see my breath puff in front of me. The parking lot was jammed with cars. The streetlights made the cars gleam almost as bright as day.

I saw my white Camry across two aisles. Shivering from the damp cold, I pulled my hoodie tighter. I tugged the key from my bag. I was a few feet from the car door when I heard running footsteps on the asphalt.

Before I could turn, strong hands grabbed my shoulders roughly from behind.

I gasped and tried to pull free.

But my attacker held on and, with a grunt, spun me around.

“Mac!” I choked out. “Mac—what are you doing? Let go of me! Mac—what are you
doing
? Let
go
!”

 

6.

“I HEARD THINGS I SHOULDN'T”

 

“I just want to talk,” he said, pressing my back against the car. “Can we just talk?”

“Talk? Are you crazy?” I cried. “Get your hands off me. Now.”

He lowered his hands but didn't step back. His cold, gray eyes locked on mine. His blondish hair glowed under the light.

I shook myself, like a dog trying to shake off fleas. I could still feel his grip on my shoulders. “You scare me to death and you want to talk?” I said. “After what you did last night?”

His hands whipped the air. “Listen to me, Rachel. Just listen to me.”

My heart was pounding. I'd seen him go from calm to furious in two seconds. It was terrifying to watch. What could I do to keep him from exploding?

I stared hard at him, alert to any move he might make, stared as if I'd never really seen him before. Mac is good-looking. Amy says he looks like a young Brad Pitt, and I guess he does.

He doesn't smile very much. And he has this weird tic where he blinks three or four times in a few seconds. Like a twitch. It doesn't happen very often, but I think it shows how tense he is.

He wore a faded army-green jacket over a black T-shirt and skinny-legged jeans torn at both knees and black boots. I glimpsed a wrinkled pack of cigarettes in a pocket of his jacket.

“Mac,” I whispered. “Go away. I don't ever want to talk to you. After last night—”

“Last night I was crazy,” he said. “I was out of my mind. Rachel, I spent all last night, the whole night, in my car. I was so messed up about you. I was up all night. I couldn't come to school today. I thought … I thought … you and I. We…”

“No, Mac,” I said. “We're over. I'm sorry. But you've got to deal with it. We're over. How can you even think I will talk to you? After … after the dead rat.”

He blinked. “The what?”

“The dead rat.”

“Rachel, what are you talking about?”

“Oh, don't try to lie to me,” I said. “You're such a bad liar, Mac. Why do you even try?”

Whenever Mac tells a lie, these round pink spots appear on his cheeks. And they were definitely there now. I could see them even in the pale light of the parking lot.

I grabbed my car door. “Please—let me go. Let's just say good-bye, okay? Just back off and let me go.”

“I … can't,” he said. He didn't budge. Again, those silvery eyes burned into mine. “I have to tell you something, Rachel. Something else. Not about you and me. You have to listen to me.”

“If I listen quietly, will you let me go? Do you promise?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Sure. But you've got to listen. I … saw you talking to Brendan Fear.”

“So?” I said. “You were spying on me?”

“You have to stay away from him.”

“Excuse me? I don't think so, Mac. I can talk to anyone I want.” My voice cracked. I didn't want to provoke him. I didn't want to set off his anger.

He kicked one of my tires with his boot. “Listen. I'm serious. Rachel, don't go to Fear Island. Don't go to that party.”

“How do you know I was invited? How do you know my private conversations? Listen to me, Mac. You and I—we're over. Do you get it? Over. So you have to stop stalking me and spying on me. And you can't tell me who I can see and who I can't.”

He shook his head. “Just don't go, Rachel. I … I've heard things.”

“Heard things? Are you crazy?” My voice came out high and shrill.

He grabbed my arms again. He squeezed them, so tight I cried out. “Mac, get off. You're hurting me.”

“I heard things, Rachel. I heard things I shouldn't.”

“Mac—let go of me. I'm warning you. Mac, you've got to get help. You're out of control. You have got to get help before you do something terrible.”

“Don't go. Hear me? It's for your own good.” He started to shake me.

“Stop!” I screamed. I spun around and tugged my arms free. I gave him a hard shove that sent him stumbling backward. He lost his balance and landed on his butt on the asphalt.

Gasping for breath, I moved fast. I pulled open the car door and slid inside. I slammed it shut and locked the doors.

I could still hear Mac shouting as I started the car and backed out of the space. In the rearview mirror, I saw him still on the ground, shaking a fist at me.

“I'm warning you,” he rasped. “Warning you, Rachel. Stay away from Fear Island. Stay away from Brendan Fear.”

I roared off, nearly clipping the bumper of the car at the end of the row. I squealed into the turn as I bumped onto the street.

“Good-bye, Mac,” I said out loud. “Good-bye, Mac.” I gunned the car and tore away, away from him, away from all his craziness. “Good-bye, Mac. And good riddance.”

But was that the end of my frightening troubles with Mac?

If only.

 

7.

“BE AFRAID, RACHEL”

 

My dreams are always very ordinary, and I
never
have nightmares. A while ago, I had my scariest dream ever. Beth and I were shopping at a clothing store and I got lost and couldn't find her.

Big whoop, right?

The truth is, I almost never remember my dreams in the morning. I guess because they're so dull.

But the night before Brendan Fear's birthday party, I had the weirdest, most terrifying dream I ever had. This dream was so strange and upsetting, I woke up with it vivid in my mind.

The dream took place in a thick forest or woods. Flashes of bright sunlight kept poking through the trees, making it hard to see. I watched myself wandering through the woods, wandering aimlessly. Until I saw an injured bird on the ground.

It was dark brown with scraggly feathers. It was cheeping softly, almost mournfully, tucked in on itself because it was in pain. I picked it up in both hands and tried to comfort it. As I petted its back, the bird slowly began to change.

I had it cupped in my hands. I watched it change shape, stretch out, grow a hairy snout. The bird in my hand became a
rat
. I tried to drop it but it stuck to my hands. I tried to toss it away, but the rat wouldn't budge.

Then I cried out in shock as the rat suddenly had a human face. A man's face. It opened its mouth, and I saw long, curled fangs. They glimmered like ivory. The rat made a shrill hissing sound and sank its long teeth into my wrist.

I screamed as bright red blood gushed up from my arm like a fountain. The rat disappeared in the flowing curtain of red. I saw only red. Then it vanished. I was standing in the woods. I had a feeling I wasn't alone. Someone was watching me from the trees. But the sunlight was so bright, I couldn't see.