Pretty Little Devils (8 page)

She hesitated, then fumbled for the hall light. She heard a noise and moved her hand a little faster, searching for the switch.

A footstep sounded at the other end of the hall.

“Okay, I know where you are,” she announced.

She found the switch and flicked it on. She glimpsed one of the small, dark-haired girls, standing in a white nightgown in front of a closed door.

Click.
The hall light flicked out again.

“You guys,” she said, trying to sound bored. “Stop playing with the light switches.”

The girl at the end of the hall turned on a flashlight beneath her chin so that her features were illuminated from below. Her mouth hung slack and her eyes were glazed.

“I'm dead,” she murmured.

There was a swishing sound behind Hazel.

She turned to find the other twin in the same pose, her face slack, in the middle of the living room. “I'm dead,” she repeated. “I'm a ghost.”

The girls shambled slowly toward Hazel, looking for all the world like clones of that evil spirit from
The Ring
. Cold, relentless, evil.

Hazel had no idea why it freaked her out. She fought to keep from becoming unnerved.

“Girls, it's time to get your ghost selves into bed,” she said bravely. She turned the light back on. Immediately, it clicked off again.

“I'm dead,” one of the twins moaned. “I'm dead and I'm coming for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Hazel challenged. She headed toward her, taking bold, long strides. She was halfway down the hall when the girl shone her flashlight in Hazel's eyes and then flicked it off, leaving her seeing spots.

When Hazel reached the end of the hall, the twin was gone.

“I'm dead,” she moaned from the living room. “You killed me.”

Hazel followed the voice.

“Katie, Chrissie, this isn't funny,” she called.

Then she looked toward the wall of glass and caught her breath.

A tall, hooded figure stood outside the house.

Hazel stared at the silent figure. Slowly, slowly, it lifted its head.

It raised its hand and pointed at Hazel.

She shrieked. The person was wearing a hockey mask, and he was carrying a long, silver knife.

“Chrissie! Katie!” Hazel screamed. “Come to me! Now!”

Behind her, voices chorused, “Surprise!” as all the lights blazed on.

Hazel whirled around. Megan, Carolyn, and Ellen were standing in the doorway with the Darling twins. Megan was doubled over with laughter. Carolyn applauded as the twins took bows.

Hazel struggled to catch her breath. Ellen came to her and threw her arms around her. “Aw, it's all right. It's a prank, Haze! Just a prank.”

Megan clapped. “We got you good!”

The front door opened. Sylvia came across the threshold, the hood of her sweatshirt thrown back, the hockey mask in her hand.

She rushed toward Hazel, her arms open.

“Ah,
ma petite
!” she said, kissing her cheek with a noisy smack.

She wiggled the knife. The blade wobbled, clearly a prop.

“Friday the 13th.”
Sylvia winked. “Your favorite.”

Hazel laughed, embarrassed and weak from relief. “You guys! That was twisted. I was really
scared
!”

“Then our work here is done,” Megan said, high-fiving Carolyn.

Sylvia handed Ellen the mask. She let go of Hazel and went to the twins, bending over and tousling their hair. “Hey, monsters. Good job.” She looked over her shoulder at Hazel. “Wouldn't you agree?”

“Oscars are in their future,” Hazel affirmed.

Katie and Chrissie lifted their chins proudly.

“You two are just awful,” Sylvia said affectionately.

“We're dead,” one of them said.

“Were they giving you a hard time?” Sylvia asked.

“Oh no,” Hazel managed, flashing Sylvia a weak smile. “Aside from the whole ‘scare the babysitter into a coma' project, everything's been fine.”

Sylvia chuckled and took Hazel's arm. “Note to self? You suck at lying. C'mon. We'll make you something to take the sting out of sitting these little monsters.”

“We are not monsters!” one of them insisted as they trailed after Sylvia. “We're dead!”

The seven of them walked into the kitchen, which was a small city of brushed stainless steel. Sylvia opened the freezer, fished around inside, and brought out a bottle. Grey Goose vodka.

“Grab some martini glasses, won't you?” she asked Hazel. She pointed to a cabinet shimmering with glassware. “In there.”

Hazel took a moment, then selected a large Y-shaped glass and held it up for Sylvia's inspection. Sylvia laughed. “Wow! You must be thirsty. We need five. Katie, get the vermouth. Chrissie, get the olives.”

Megan, Carolyn, and Ellen took seats at the slate table in the breakfast nook. Hazel followed.

Sylvia poured vodka nearly to the rim of each glass. Seeing Hazel's surprise, she chuckled and splashed in a little more. “Relax. It's fine.”

The girls returned with another bottle and the olives. Sylvia finished making the drinks and passed them around. Hazel was about to take a sip when Sylvia held her glass aloft.

“To Haze, everyone! A good sport and a great victim. Ellen? The traditional PLD toast?”

Ellen smirked. “To damnation!” she said in a clear, ringing voice.

“To damnation!” the others echoed. They clinked glasses.

Then Sylvia turned to Katie and Chrissie. “Okay, I'm throwing you in bed. Hazel, take a load off. The cavalry, she is here.”

Hazel smiled gratefully but didn't want Sylvia to think she couldn't handle her first job. “It's okay,” she told Sylvia. “I want to do it.”

“About the bad lying?” Sylvia scolded. “You haven't gotten any better in the last thirty seconds.”

The other PLDs giggled. Sylvia carried her drink as she herded the two girls toward their bedroom.

“Teeth and faces.” Sylvia's voice trailed down the hall.

“We can't brush our teeth,” Katie announced. “We're dead.”

“You'll wish you were dead if you don't brush them,
mes petites
. Now, come on. You don't want to make Sylvia mad, do you?”

Chrissie and Katie squealed as if equal parts thrilled and terrified by the idea. Hazel sipped her drink—
Yow! It's all vodka!
She listened to the rushing water and the girls giggling in the bathroom.

“Told you you'd need the squeezy brain,” Megan teased.

“You were right.” Hazel took another, tinier sip. “I just didn't realize
how right
you were.”

“I'm sorry if we scared you, Haze. It was kind of mean,” Ellen apologized.

“Dude, don't be such a wuss,” Megan said. “It was a good prank.”

“We started pranking in middle school,” Carolyn explained. “Around the same time we got into horror movies. You know, long nights sitting, nothing to do but watch TV or do homework…. I think Sylvia did the first one.”

“On me,” Ellen said. “She started knocking on all the windows.”

“We used to have séances, too,” Megan said. “Remember that? They were kind of dorky, but we believed in them.”

“I never did,” Ellen insisted.

“Yeah, right.” Carolyn snorted. “You used to
cry
.”

Ellen frowned, embarrassed. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I gotta go,” she announced. “My dad…” She made a fist and breathed into it. “Who's got the breath mints?”

“I've got some in my purse,” Megan offered. “Out in the living room. And actually, I should go too.”

“Me too,” Carolyn added.

They took their half-full martini glasses to the counter, dumped them out, rinsed and dried them, and put them back in their places.

“Well, your first job is almost over,” Ellen said, smiling at Hazel. “You did great.”

“Yeah.” Megan slapped her on the back. “You definitely had a squishy-brain moment.” She knocked on Hazel's head. “Huh, I think it's still in there.”

Carolyn gave her a little hug.

Carrying her drink with her, Hazel followed them into the living room.

Sylvia emerged from the girls' rooms a moment later. “Okay, I ran the chain saw. They won't be bothering you anymore.” She took Hazel's glass and measured how much was left. “You might want to dump this out now,” she suggested. “It's important not to be too drunk when Cynthia comes home.”

“Damn. I had such plans,” Hazel quipped.

Sylvia made a check mark in the air. “Third initiation item: sitting job and near-stroke-inducing prank. You're almost done!”

“What's left?” Hazel asked, emboldened by her success…and the vodka.

“Wait and see,” Sylvia teased.

“Okay. As long as no animals are harmed in the fulfilling of the item,” Hazel said.

The four giggled appreciatively. They gathered their jackets and purses and filed out the front door. Hazel waved as they got in their cars.

She shut the door and leaned against it, taking another hefty swallow of her martini. Then she carried it into the kitchen to dump.

I'm so on top of this,
she thought.
I was born to be a PLD.

H
azel was truly blessed.

Her econ teacher was out sick. Her AP chem teacher lectured too long and told everyone to turn in their homework the next day. Every assignment she had blown off yesterday, she'd gotten a lucky break on today. Thank goodness.

Ten minutes till my next class
, she thought as she sprinted down the hall.
Just enough time for a stop at my locker.

She spun her combination, opened the door—and cried out in surprise.

A huge spider hung inside the locker. It dangled from a web stretched across the opening.

Hazel took a deep breath and looked more closely.
It's a fake spider,
she realized,
courtesy of the PLDs.

A drawing was stuck in the center of the spider's web. It looked like a skull and crossbones, only this was a hockey mask with two chain saws crossed beneath it.
WE PRANKED HAZEL
! was written in jagged letters above the mask.

Those guys.
She giggled and rolled her eyes.

“You have the nicest laugh,” said a voice behind her. A voice with a deep, southern accent.

Hazel smiled.
Matty.

He had been hanging around nonstop since that first PLD party—e-mailing her and talking to her at every opportunity. Still, he hadn't asked her out. Hazel sensed that he was waiting for the right moment. She hoped he wouldn't wait too long.

“Thanks,” she said as she folded up the web and the picture.

“What was that?” he asked, pointing to the items.

“Oh, just a little love note from Sylvia and the other PLDs.” She hauled out her books and slammed her locker shut.

“Oh yeah.” He grinned. “I forgot. You're one of the bad babysitters now.”

“That's right. The baddest.”

Matty leaned against the nearby locker. “I don't believe that. You're more angel than devil.”

“Shh! Don't tell the others,” Hazel joked. “They think I'm as rotten as they are.”

The bell rang. Matty groaned.

“I gotta take off. My class is at the other end of the school.”

“Run. Run like the wind,” Hazel told him. She turned away, playing a little hard to get.

“See you at lunch?” he asked her.

“I'll be there.”

“Cool.” He looked like he was about to say something more. Too late. The second bell sounded. Matty sighed and took off.

“We are completely ignoring her,” Sylvia informed the PLDs at lunch.

“Who?” Hazel asked. “What's going on?”

“Over there.” Megan nodded toward the cafeteria entrance. “Check it out, but don't be obvious.”

Hazel turned and saw the entire varsity cheerleading squad striding into the cafeteria. There were fifteen girls total—and Breona Wu was among them!

She walked in the center of the group, her best friend, Jenna Babcock, by her side. All the girls wore kelly-green-and-gold uniforms, their hair and makeup flawless, like an army of glam.

Breona sat down at her usual place, about eight tables over from the PLDs. Jenna took the chair next to Breona. All the others filled that table and the two surrounding it.

“How'd she get back in?” Megan demanded. “What about the zero-tolerance policy?”

“Zero tolerance, my butt,” Carolyn growled.

“Stay calm,” Sylvia said sternly. “We'll figure something out.”

The PLDs settled in, everyone refusing to look in Breona's direction. Hazel stole a glance at the jock table, which was to her left. Josh, Brandon, and Stephan were already wolfing down hamburgers. But Matty hadn't shown yet. Where was he?

“Tonight you're sitting Charlie, Hazel.” Sylvia's voice interrupted her thoughts. “That would be the little boy with the cat. From the last party.”

“Right. Isotope.” Hazel tried to build up her nerve to tell Sylvia that she really had to stay home, but before she had a chance, Sylvia continued.

“I was talking to Josh between classes. He brought up your Mr.
Matt
ise. Josh says he is very aggressive on the field.”

“Ooh la la,” Carolyn drawled. “Hot-blooded.”

“Mmmm.
Très bien
, Mattise!” Sylvia smiled at her own cleverness and stabbed a piece of lettuce.

All Sylvia ate was salad, Hazel noticed. Maybe it was the secret behind her awesome complexion.

Hazel sneaked another peek at the jock table to see if Matty had arrived.

Ellen glanced over too, obviously mooning over Brandon.

Sylvia noticed, and her expression went grim. She rapped her fist in front of Ellen's tray.

“
Pardon moi
, what are you doing?” she asked.

Ellen blinked, as if waking from a daydream. “I—I was just—”

Sylvia sighed. “Ellie, we've been over this. Brandon is an asshole, okay? He has hanging-out privileges, but he is not nice.”

Ellen shifted. “I don't know, Sylvia. He
seems
nice.”

“They all
seem
nice,” Carolyn said.

“Even Stephan seemed nice,” Megan muttered.

“Well…he's nice to
me
,” Ellen whispered.

Sylvia touched her fingers to her chest. “Don't be so naive, El. Brandon is a user. If you let him, he will chew you up and spit you out. Trust me on this.”

Hazel thought about the girl in geometry. “She's right, El.”

Everyone looked startled. Sylvia raised an eyebrow. “And how would you know?”

Hazel blinked. Had she overstepped her bounds somehow? “He—he totally humiliated this girl in my geometry class last year. He pretended to ask her out and then he laughed at her when she said yes.”

“No way,” Ellen protested, stricken.

“It's true,” Hazel insisted. “I was there.”

“Well, thank goodness,” Sylvia breathed. “For a moment, I thought you had firsthand experience with the matter.”

“No, no,” Hazel protested. “It's nothing like that.”

“Good. Because that's the kind of thing PLDs share.” Sylvia leaned forward, locking her electric blue eyes on Hazel. “I would hope that if you had been with any of the guys in our circle, you'd tell us about it.”

“Of course,” Hazel confirmed.

Of course, I would. Don't go getting so intense about it.

Ellen turned her head in Brandon's direction—again.

“Jesus, El,” Sylvia hissed. “Did you not just hear what I said? Show some pride. If not for yourself, then for us.”

Ellen opened her mouth to answer.

“Uh-oh,” Megan cut her off. “Trouble, two o'clock.”

Hazel glanced up and saw Jilly Delgado—one of the cheerleaders—sidling up to their table. Sylvia shot her a withering glance.

“Can we help you?” she asked.

“Breona knows it was you,” Jilly said, glaring at them. “There will be payback.”

She turned and walked back to Breona's table.

“God! We're terrified!” Megan called after her.

“Tais-toi,”
Sylvia snapped at Megan. “Don't give them any satisfaction. They're not even on our radar.”

“Right,” Ellen said. “Beneath our notice.”

“Exactement.”
Sylvia looked hard at each of them. “Now is the time to show them who we really are. PLDs act. We don't react. Breona's going to try to get to us all today. You have chem lab with her, don't you, Haze? Don't let her pressure you. She'll try to tell you that she's the victim in all this. It's a lie. I want you to know that.”

“But why would she—”

The others looked straight at Hazel, and she remembered that she was still on probation. Not officially one of them.

Maybe she'd be able to ask questions later.

“I'll be fine,” she promised.

 

When Hazel got to chem lab, she found Breona waiting at her table. She shifted slightly when Hazel approached.

“Hey, Hazel,” Breona said, pasting on a big smile. “Do you have the notes I missed while I was out?”

“No. Sorry,” Hazel said coolly, navigating around her.

“I'm a little behind, you know,” Breona continued. “I don't know if you heard, but I was kicked out of school
when someone planted drugs in my locker!
”

Hazel shook her head.
Sylvia said Breona would play the innocent victim
. She balled her fists inside the pockets of her black hoodie and looked away.

Breona rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. Did they tell you to diss me? You aren't really a PLD, are you? You're just hanging out with them, under the mistaken impression that they're nice people. Right?”

Hazel kept her voice calm and steady. “Actually, I
am
a PLD.”

“Oh my God! Hazel, do
not
hang out up with them. They are totally evil. I know you didn't have anything to do with what happened to me, but—”

“I'm sorry, Breona,” Hazel said. She pulled out her lab stool. Case closed.

“Okay,” Breona muttered, her eyes flashing with anger. “But if you stick with them, you have signed on for some serious trouble, girlfriend.”

Lakshmi hurried into the room. She glanced over at Hazel and gave her a little smile. Then she set her pack down and clambered onto her stool one table away.

“How's it going?” Lakshmi asked.

Before Hazel could reply, Breona leaned over. “Don't bother, Lakshmi. Hazel's just like the rest of those bitches. She's not allowed to talk to anyone who isn't a PLD.”

Lakshmi blinked. “Oh?”

“That's not true,” Hazel countered quickly. “I can talk to whoever I want.”

“Oh. That's right. It's not that she
can't
talk to you. It's that she just doesn't
want
to talk to you. She thinks you're a loser. And so do all her little friends.”

Lakshmi's mouth dropped open. “Hazel? That's…not true…is it?”

“No,” Hazel said.

She tried to make the word believable, but her face gave everything away.

Tears brimmed in Lakshmi's eyes.

Then Ms. Carpentier looked up from her desk. “All right, people. Take your seats.”

Everyone fell mercifully silent, but Lakshmi shot Hazel a dirty look before turning to the front of the classroom.

Hazel sighed.
I knew I'd make friends as a PLD
, she thought.
I hadn't really counted on making enemies.

 

When Hazel arrived for her sitting job at Charlie's, Mr. Pollins, a chubby, middle-aged man, was rushing around getting ready for a night shift.

“Charlie will show you around,” he said as he went into his study.

She suppressed a grin. Clearly Mr. Pollins was unaware that she had been in his home before—along with about twenty other high school kids.

Pale little Charlie was clad in pajamas and a bathrobe. He led Hazel into the kitchen. “Hey. Matty didn't send me the jpeg yet.”

“I'm sure he will,” she promised, hoping it was true.

She noticed an open can on the counter and a pot on the stove. “Do you want some SpaghettiOs?”

“No,” Charlie answered. “I'm not really all that hungry.”

“Is there something else you'd rather have?” she asked.

“No.” He rubbed his forehead. “I'm a kid. We eat stuff like this.”

Hazel chuckled at Charlie's matter-of-fact delivery. He continued to rub his temples.

“Headache?” Hazel asked sympathetically.

“Tension,” he replied.

“Tell you what. Why don't you go on to your room and I'll bring you dinner in bed. Sound good?”

He nodded. “Thanks.” He shuffled off to his room like a little old man.

Hazel dumped the can into the pot and lit the burner. While the SpaghettiOs were heating, she got some two percent milk out of the fridge and found an
Incredibles
cup in the cupboard.

Mr. Pollins came into the kitchen. “I'll be home very late. Please feel free to nap. And if you wouldn't mind answering the phone…”

“Of course. Whatever you say.”