The New Year's Party (4 page)

“I
'm not falling for that stupid joke,” Reenie declared. “No way.”

Everyone laughed except Sean, who lay motionless on the floor.

Reenie nudged him with her toe. “You can get up now, Sean. You've had your laugh for the day.”

“Come on, admit it,” Artie urged. “We had you for a second there. We all saw you jump.”

“Well, yeah. You'd jump, too, if someone fell out of your closet!” Reenie explained. “It took me a whole two seconds to figure out it was your usual dumb stuff.”

Sean climbed slowly to his feet, grinning. “I thought I did a pretty good fall.”

Reenie sighed. “I've seen it too many times. You guys need some new victims for your stupid jokes.”

“It worked great when we pulled it on Deena Martinson,” Artie told her. “She's probably still screaming.”

“Deena hasn't seen it a hundred times before,” Reenie replied, shaking her head.

“Maybe it didn't work this time,” Greta declared, “but we've fooled you pretty good before.”

“Like at the Burger Basket,” Ty recalled.

“Yeah,” Artie agreed, “we got you good at the Burger Basket.”

Reenie had to admit it. They
had
fooled her that time.

She'd stopped by the restaurant to meet Sean when he got off work. As she opened the door, a masked robber grabbed her and told her he was taking her hostage. She could still remember the feel of his rubber glove across her mouth and nose.

Greta laughed. “You screamed that time!”

“Especially when the robber killed me,” Ty added. He sounded a little ashamed of himself. As if he enjoyed the prank, but found it kind of childish.

“Hey—don't forget about the time I got you, Greta,” Reenie said. “At Artie's house. Remember? I hid in the bathtub for almost an hour. The water was freezing by the time you finally came in and found me floating facedown.”

Sean touched the gooey red spot on his head. “Yuck!” he groaned, staring at his fingers.

“What is that stuff?” Reenie asked. For blood, they'd been using a concoction Artie came up with—corn syrup, red food coloring, sometimes a little flour to make it clump together. This stuff looked different.

“Theatrical blood,” Sean replied. “I got it at Jack's Jokes. The package claims this stuff washes out with water. I hope it's true. Mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Mess it up, and my mom will kill you,” Reenie warned as he headed out the door.

“I can't believe Sean bought theatrical blood,” Greta said. She turned to Artie. “I thought
he
had to save all his cash for college next year.”

Guess the fight isn't over, Reenie thought. If Artie decides not to go to college when we graduate, I'll bet he and Greta will break up.

Sean returned from the bathroom, his wet hair slicked back. Reenie's mom always joked that a color photo of Sean would be identical to one in black and white. But Reenie didn't agree. Black and white film would capture Sean's black hair and pale skin. But it wouldn't show his blue eyes.

“We'd better get started. We don't want to be here all night,” Greta urged.

Sean grabbed his books from underneath the bed.

He thought of everything, Reenie realized. I probably wouldn't have noticed his books with everybody's junk scattered around. But he hid them anyway.

Watching him, Reenie pictured the deep red blood that matted his hair. His bulging eyes. Even though she had known right away that he wasn't hurt, she couldn't push the image out of her mind.

Maybe we should stop playing this game, Reenie thought. Maybe we should stop right now—tonight—before someone goes too far.

“We only finished seven problems last night,” Reenie griped. “Can you imagine how long it's going to take us to do all hundred of them?”

Locker doors clicked open and banged shut as kids stuffed their coats in and pulled out the books and notebooks they needed for class. No one hurried. Not with fifteen minutes to go before first period.

“Artie was a big help!” Greta complained, rolling her eyes. “He didn't even pay attention most of the time.”

Reenie nodded. She didn't know quite what to say. Artie hadn't contributed much to the group project. And every time he
did
open his mouth, Greta had jumped all over him. Giving him a hard time for slacking off. Warning him that he'd never get a scholarship if his grades dropped any lower. Always in his face.

Greta stopped next to a drinking fountain. She pulled out a mirror and checked her lipstick. Reenie thought it looked perfect. But Greta pressed some more on anyway.

“We had another fight after we left your house,” Greta admitted. “I know I've been down on Artie too
much. But he's messing up. He spends all his time hanging out with Marc Bentley.”

“Didn't Marc drop out of school?” Reenie asked. She had seen Marc at a couple parties and around Shadyside High. He was tough to miss with his muscular body and slicked-back ponytail. But she didn't really know him.

“Yeah. And the creep is trying to convince Artie to quit school, too.”

Greta dropped her lipstick and mirror back into her purse. They wandered toward their lockers.

“I don't know what Artie plans to do,” Greta continued. “He's changed so much lately. Sometimes I feel really close to him and we have these great conversations. Or we'll go to Red Heat and dance and have a great time like we used to.”

Greta hesitated. “But then he'll mention Marc, or I'll mention college—and we're fighting again. He doesn't seem to care about any of the things he used to care about.”

Reenie wondered if that included Greta.

They passed the school office. Reenie saw the principal, Mr. Hernandez, talking to a woman in a brown coat. Down the hall, someone slammed a locker door really hard.

“What would Artie do if he dropped out?” Reenie asked.

“Marc is working at the car plant in Waynesbridge. He says he can get Artie a job there, too.”

“Wow. What a thrill!” Reenie replied sarcastically.

“That's what I told Artie. But he won't listen to me.
He says Marc makes a lot of money and he didn't have to waste four years in college to get it. Artie's family needs money because of Davy.”

Davy was Artie's little brother. He had some kind of a kidney problem. Artie's family must have huge medical bills, Reenie knew.

Greta sighed. “Marc's a really bad influence on Artie. I wish—”

Reenie gasped and grabbed Greta's arm. “Greta—look! That girl! She's breaking into my locker!”

W
ho is she? Reenie wondered. I've never seen her before.

She ran down the hall with Greta close behind her.

The girl spun the combination lock on Reenie's locker, tugged on it, then gave it a hard yank.

“What are you doing?” Reenie demanded breathlessly as she rushed up to the girl. “That's
my
locker!”

“Huh?” The girl glanced up, confused.

“That's
my
locker,” Reenie repeated. Greta stood beside her. Both of them stared at the girl. She had auburn hair that fell past her shoulders, and a light smattering of freckles on her cheeks and nose.

“Oh,” the girl replied, embarrassed. “No wonder it wouldn't open!” She offered a shy smile. “I'm sorry. Really. I'm new. This is my first day here. I thought this was the locker they assigned me at the office.”

“What number did they give you?” Reenie asked.

The newcomer pulled a slip of paper from her purse. “Uh, eighty-nine.”

“That's my locker number,” Reenie said.

The girl handed Reenie the slip of paper. “The secretary wrote it down.”

Reenie and Greta studied the little square of paper.

“That's not eighty-nine!” Greta exclaimed. “It's B-nine.”

“You're right,” Reenie agreed. “The
B
lockers are around the corner.”

The girl blushed. “This is really embarrassing.”

“Hey—no problem,” Reenie insisted. “You just read it wrong. No big deal. Sorry I yelled at you like that.”

“I've made a lot more embarrassing mistakes,” Greta told her. “Ask me about the time I went into the boys' locker room!”

They all laughed.

“My name's Reenie, and this is Greta.”

“I'm Liz.”

They smiled and nodded at one another. Then they stood awkwardly, trying to figure out what to say next.

Reenie saw a boy standing across the hall, watching but not saying anything. She realized he'd been there the whole time.

“That's my brother, P.J.,” Liz explained.

P.J. took a step closer to the others. He's as pale as Sean, Reenie thought. And about as tall. But he's so thin—and kind of frail.

“Hey,” P.J. grunted, gazing down at his shoes.

Whoa, Reenie thought, this guy seems totally lost.

He had freckles like his sister's, but not the auburn hair. His was ordinary brown. When he finally glanced up at her, Reenie saw that his eyes were a deep mossy green.

His eyes are beautiful, Reenie thought. Too bad he spends most of his time staring at the ground.

“Where's your homeroom?” Greta asked P.J.

He pulled a folded-up class schedule out of his jeans pocket. “English with Mr. Meade.”

“Want me to show you where it is?” Greta offered, smiling warmly. “I had Meade last year. He's great if you don't mind a lot of reading.”

“Thanks,” P.J. mumbled.

“Reading is just about all he ever does,” Liz teased.

“Me, too,” Greta replied.

“If you count
Glamour
and
Vogue!
” Reenie exclaimed.

They laughed again—everyone but P.J.

Reenie glanced at her watch. “Oh, wow. It's almost time for first period. I'd better get my books. Liz, I'll show you where your locker is, if you want to hang on for a sec.”

“Okay,” Liz answered. “I could use the help. I'm still a little lost.”

Reenie worked the combination too quickly and had to do it again. Five. Nine. Two. The lock opened with a click. She tugged on the door.

Stuck.

She pulled harder.

Still stuck. What's going on? she thought.

“Why won't it open?” Liz asked.

And then it did open.

The door swung open, nearly pushing Reenie to the wall.

Liz cried out and jumped back.

Reenie screamed.

A
hand reached out of the locker.

Then another hand. They reached for Reenie's throat.

Reenie shook her head. “I don't believe this. Don't you guys ever give up?”

Ty was crammed inside her locker—his back pressed against one side, his knees jammed against the other. Reenie couldn't believe he had squeezed into such a small space.

“What took you so long?” he asked, breathing hard. He pulled himself from her locker. “I was
dying
in there.”

“You know, Ty, I'm getting really sick of these
dumb jokes. What if you got stuck?” Reenie demanded. “What if you suffocated before I opened the door?”

“Air can get in through those little slits,” Ty explained. “I really scared you that time, didn't I? I had to try since Sean's trick didn't work at your house. You were scared. Come on, admit it.”

Reenie couldn't help smiling. Ty sounded so excited. “I was startled, not scared,” she told him. “Just like last time. Scared is when you're walking alone at night, and you hear footsteps behind you.”

“Scared is when you're in a room all by yourself, and you feel cold fingers on the back of your neck,” Greta suggested.

“Yeah,” Reenie agreed. “That's scared. When something surprises you, you're just startled. Scared is a lot more serious.”