The House Next Door (3 page)

“I've been waiting for you! Put your things over there,” Amanda instructed, pointing to a growing pile of sleeping bags, pillows, and duffel bags. Olivia dug into her giant tote and pulled out a tube of lip gloss, adding a final swipe to her already shiny lips. She stuffed it into her pocket and carelessly threw her bag on top of the pile.

“Do you think you've brought enough clothes?” Amanda asked, teasing her fashionista friend. “You're only staying one night!”

“You never know what you'll need,” Olivia replied. “And I like to have an outfit for every emergency situation!”

Amanda giggled, knowing her best friend was only partly joking. Olivia was in sixth grade with Amanda and shared the responsibilities of being cocaptain of the volleyball team. When Olivia wasn't playing volleyball, she was rooting for the boys' football and basketball teams as Glory Middle School's head cheerleader.

Tonight, Olivia's pin-straight, dark brown hair was in a ponytail fixed high on her head. It swished back and forth when she walked.

“I've changed five times already,” Olivia told her. Amanda admired her final choice: a red-and-silver sequined cardigan over dark leggings that were tucked into black suede boots with puffy pom-poms on them.

“You're even glowing!” Amanda replied.

“It's magical fairy dust. I may let you borrow some,” Olivia whispered, nodding toward the dance floor. Amanda followed her gaze and saw Paul spinning until he couldn't help but stop and then shake his head, trying to regain his balance. He looked so goofy that Amanda and Olivia burst into laughter until they were gasping for air.

“It looks like Paul got a haircut,” Olivia finally said. Amanda looked at Paul's sandy blond hair. It was still
wavy, disheveled, and almost reached the bridge of his nose. But it did look just a touch more cropped around his ears and the nape of his neck. She knew his mom must've forced him to get it trimmed, because Paul didn't really care about his hair—or anything else about his appearance for that matter. He was too busy trying to make people laugh with his silly antics. Once again Paul flipped the hair out of his eyes so he could see.

“Really?” Amanda replied. “I hadn't noticed.” The two girls looked at each other—both knowing that
nothing
about Paul Furby slipped by Amanda—and doubled over with laughter again.

Slowly more guests arrived. The girls' friends were mostly gathered around the food table, picking at the snacks and pouring themselves cupfuls of punch. Carrie was trying her best to get people dancing, pulling them into the center of the dance floor with her, and Alyssa and Amanda stood nearby giggling at her unsuccessful attempts.

“It might take people a little while to warm up,” Alyssa reminded her.

“Exactly,” Amanda agreed. “Why don't you show them how it's done, Alyssa? Not everyone knows how to
pirouette around the dance floor like you do!”

Alyssa was about to protest her sister's teasing when she suddenly heard Amanda make a tiny gasp and followed her gaze to the foot of the stairs. Steve Turner had arrived. Amanda glared at her sister, daring her not to say a word, as her cheeks burned and turned slightly red from embarrassment. Alyssa dramatically shook her head.

“You are so busted!” she told Amanda. “All this time, I've been thinking you had a crush on Paul. It looks like he's been replaced by the new kid.”

“What?” Amanda replied, snapping herself back into the moment. “No. I don't like him. I just didn't know you invited him.”

“He's in my class,” Alyssa replied, still smiling at her sister's shock. “And he's new to Glory. I thought it would be nice for him to become part of our group. Meet new people.”

“I think it's a really good idea!” Amanda agreed.

Both sisters watched Steve walk into the party, and even Alyssa had to admit that he looked slick and cool, just like every day at school when he came into her fifth-period algebra class. The Turners were Glory's
newest residents—and this was big news since hardly anyone ever moved to or from Glory. This instantly made Steve one of the most popular kids in school, but Alyssa admired him for more than that. He was from Philadelphia, which meant to Alyssa that he was everything that Glory was not. He listened to bands that she had never heard of before and did things that most kids in Glory didn't really care about, like sitting alone and drawing in his notebook. He would rather skateboard in the park than play football. Alyssa had even overheard him telling a group of guys at school one day that he was taking guitar lessons. But mostly, Steve had a way of walking into a room. Without even trying, everyone felt his presence. He could turn heads by just being Steve. His confidence was what Alyssa really liked about him. Admittedly, like her sister, she also didn't mind his messy dark curls and startlingly blue eyes.

Alyssa watched Amanda flush as Steve walked over to them.

“You are so predictable, Amanda,” Alyssa whispered. Amanda shrugged and shot her a look, pretending she didn't know what her sister was implying. But they both knew that Amanda had recognized how cute Steve
looked tonight. He was wearing washed-out, ripped jeans and a plaid button-down shirt over a long-sleeved T-shirt.

“Hey!” Steve greeted when he reached Alyssa and Amanda. “Alyssa, thanks for the invitation,” he continued. “I know my mom and dad are really looking forward to spending time with your parents and some of Glory's other finest tonight!” Amanda laughed loudly at Steve's little joke. Alyssa raised an eyebrow at her sister's obvious flirting.

“We're really glad you came,” Alyssa said. “Did you find our house okay? Sometimes people get lost when they first come out here.”

“Or think they're lost when they do finally get to our little dirt road!” Amanda added.

“Yeah,” Steve replied. “That's actually why I'm so late. We missed your road twice and had to turn around. This is great—it's really off the beaten path, isn't it? You're sort of out here alone.”

“Oh, we're used to it by now,” Amanda said.

“Though I think my dad was a little nervous while driving, since it's so dark without any streetlamps,” he told them. “And my mom was sort of freaked by that
old house next door. We accidentally pulled up to it, but then we realized that all the cars were parked here. What's the story with that house?”

Suddenly, Paul was standing next to Steve. They bumped fists in greeting.

“Ah, my man Steve,” Paul said. “That's Glory's famous haunted house. The Petersons' only neighbor for miles. Didn't you know?”

Alyssa squirmed. This is exactly what she didn't want to happen. From out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amanda frown. The sisters hated when the house next door came up in conversation. It was a sore spot between the sisters and their friends. Their friends always wanted to tell stories—some passed down through generations—about the strange things they'd heard of happening in that old house. But Alyssa and her sisters didn't want to talk about it at all.
Ever
. It made the mood of any party turn from cheery to eerie. Their friends always got to go home after the frightening tales, but Alyssa, Amanda, and Anne had to look at the house out of their bedroom windows before they went to sleep every night.

“Seriously, you guys?” Anne came over and threw herself into the conversation. “Are you really afraid of some abandoned old house?” Just as Anne said these words, Alyssa's eyes caught Amanda's. All the color seemed to have drained from Amanda's face. She was as pale as a ghost. Alyssa knew it wasn't like Amanda to act like this in front of boys, and she was instantly concerned.

What's wrong with her?
Alyssa wondered. Sure, she and her sisters had experienced bizarre things with that house over the years. She would never forget the time, a year and a half ago, when her mom sent her outside to collect basil from the herb garden for the pasta boiling on the stove. Alyssa was terrified. She never really liked being outside by herself—it was just so dark. And the Petersons were isolated, being at the end of the dusty road all by themselves. But to be honest, the real reason she felt so strange about being outside by herself was that she never really felt alone in the slightest. Instead, she always felt like someone was watching and following her every step. Sometimes, the feeling got so intense—like eager eyes were burning a hole into her back—that she would whip around, fully
expecting to come face to face with one of her sisters spying on her. But every single time, she would discover that no one was there.

So on this particular night she hesitated before going outside to get basil. She knew she was just being silly—and figured nothing could be worse than her younger sisters knowing that she was actually afraid—so she grabbed a flashlight and took off through the sliding glass door and into the backyard.

She walked just beyond the house to the small garden. It was surrounded by a low fence that kept out the pesky rabbits that liked to nibble on her mom's herbs. Alyssa stepped over the fence, shined the light on the plants, and searched for the leafy basil. As she grabbed a handful of leaves, she felt a pair of eyes watching her. Her back felt exposed to the world. Breathing deeply, Alyssa turned around. Nothing. Her flashlight darted around the darkness. Still nothing. Alyssa exhaled with relief, but she also felt a little ridiculous since, once again, she'd let her fears get the best of her.

Alyssa took another deep inhale, forcing herself to be comfortable in the darkness. But in those few seconds a dim, soft light—maybe a glowing candle—illuminated
the spaces between the slats in the shutters of the attic window in the abandoned house. Alyssa froze. She'd never known anyone to be inside the house. Alyssa saw a shadow move in the light and then stop. Could the shadow be a person? And was he or she watching Alyssa?

Alyssa dropped the flashlight and basil, and ran toward the safety of her own house as fast as her feet would go. By the time she reached the kitchen, tears were streaming down her face, and she hysterically told her family what had happened.

“I'm sure it was just a local teenager,” Mr. Peterson told Alyssa as Mrs. Peterson held a comforting arm around her. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

“Will you please go outside and see for yourself?” Alyssa managed to say through fits of sobs.

Mr. and Mrs. Peterson went out together to investigate. Alyssa eagerly waited for them to come back into the house and tell her what they had found. But her parents only returned with Alyssa's flashlight and the basil. They hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. And they certainly hadn't seen any light in the neighboring house's window.

“But someone is in there!” Alyssa cried. “I'm not seeing things!”

After much urging, Mr. Peterson called the Glory police station to report what his daughter had witnessed. The sheriff was quick to arrive. Alyssa watched through a window as the police car drove up the road and blue-and-red lights flashed around the old house. After about ten minutes, the cruiser drove over to the Petersons' home.

The sheriff sat at the Petersons' kitchen table and drank a cup of coffee as he told them what he found. As it turned out . . . nothing. The doors were locked. The windows were tightly latched. And there was no sign of any trespassers—no graffiti, no lights, and no evidence at all that someone had been in the house in what the sheriff suspected was many, many years.

From then on, whenever Alyssa felt nervous outside at night, she made herself remember that her eyes could easily play tricks on her.

About a year later, Amanda confided that she believed what Alyssa had seen. One hot night, this past summer, Amanda walked into Alyssa's room and sat down on her bed beside her. The air conditioner wasn't working, and
the stickiness was making it hard for Amanda to sleep. At least that's what she told Alyssa at first. What had really kept Amanda awake—and what had been keeping her awake for weeks—was her mind replaying the whispers she'd heard while retrieving her softball that one afternoon.

Amanda hadn't repeated the exact words she had heard whispered to a soul. But on that hot summer night, her sleeplessness finally got to her and the words she had heard finally spilled out. “Stay away,” she repeated to Alyssa. In the heat, Alyssa felt the familiar, cold sensation of fear surge through her.

She squeezed Amanda's hand. “Don't worry,” she told her. “Let's talk to Anne tomorrow. Maybe she's seen or heard something too. Then we can all go together to talk to Mom and Dad.”

The next morning, however, Anne laughed when her sisters confided in her. She mocked and teased them for their foolishness. She boasted that although she was the youngest, she definitely wasn't afraid of some old house.

Alyssa didn't want Amanda to recall these memories, least of all tonight. Alyssa had to bring her sister out of her cloudy daydream before anyone else noticed
her ghostly expression and their carefully planned New Year's Eve party turned into a Halloween spook-fest.