Authors: R.L. Stine,Bill Schmidt
R. L. STINE
An Archway Paperback 1230 Avenue of the Americas,
New York London Toronto Sydney
Bobby never had any trouble with girlsâ¦until he started dating the Wade twins. Now one of them is out to get Bobbyâbut which one?
by R. L. Stine
Coming in mid-March 1994 From Archway Paperbacks Published by Pocket Books
Don't Do It!
“Please open the door!”
The girl on the other side of the door repeated her desperate plea.
Lea was frozen by indecision. A frightening picture flashed into her mind. She saw a hideous monster with red eyes bulging out of its sockets and green slime drooling from its fang-filled mouth. The monster was hulking on the other side of the locked door, disguising its voice, using the voice of a frightened girl in order to fool Lea.
“Please open the door!” the muffled voice, now even more frightened and desperate, called out to Lea.
“I-I'll be right back,” Lea replied.
She had made her decision. She had decided to unlock the door.
Books by R. L. Stine
THE NEW GIRL
THE SURPRISE PARTY
THE WRONG NUMBER
THE FIRE GAME
THE SECRET BEDROOM
THE BEST FRIEND
THE NEW BOY
THE THRILL CLUB
The Fear Street Saga
Fear Street Cheerleaders
THE FIRST EVIL
THE SECOND EVIL
THE THIRD EVIL
Fear Street Super Chiller
SILENT NIGHT 2
HOW I BROKE UP WITH ERNIE
Available from ARCHWAY Paperbacks
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The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book.”
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK
An Archway Paperback published by
POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
Copyright Â© 1991 by Parachute Press, Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
First Archway Paperback printing September 1991
15Â Â Â 14Â Â Â 13Â Â Â 12Â Â Â 11Â Â Â 10Â Â Â 9
FEAR STREET is a registered trademark of Parachute Press, Inc.
AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.
Cover art by Bill Schmidt
Printed in the U.S.A.
The Secret Bedroom
ea Carson tripped and her lunch tray went flying out of her hands.
As she struggled to regain her balance, she watched the tray sail toward a crowded table. Almost as if it were happening in slow motion, Lea saw it hit the side of a girl's chair. Then she watched helplessly as the bowl toppled off the tray and the dark chili poured onto the sleeve of the girl's white sweater.
The girl screamed and leapt to her feet, her hands flying up like two startled white birds trying to escape. She shook her shoulders, then began grabbing at her sleeve, pulling off red beans and chunks of tomato.
The girl turned angrily toward Lea. Everyone at the table, a couple of astonished-looking boys and a girl with a disapproving frown, turned to glare at Lea. Lea could feel her face reddening, growing hot.
Why did I have to take chili? she thought. Why couldn't I have just picked a sandwich?
“My new sweater!” the girl cried, still scraping and pulling at the sleeve. She had wavy red hair, cut stylishly short, and pale blue eyes that flashed angrily at Lea, then back to her sweater.
“I'm sorry,” Lea managed to say. “There was something wet on the floor. I slipped.”
“I'd better go put some cold water on it,” the girl said, ignoring Lea's apology, ignoring Lea entirely. She turned and stalked past Lea, deliberately staring straight ahead.
“I'm really sorry,” Lea called after her.
Holding her stained sweater sleeve, the girl hurried through the lunchroom doors without turning back.
Lea heard laughter at another table and knew they were laughing at her. She bent down to pick up her tray, feeling all eyes on her.
I just want to die, she thought.
Only my second week in this school, and I've already made a total fool of myself.
It was hard enough, she thought, for someone as shy as she was to adjust to a new high school, to make new friends, to feel comfortable. Sure, she was pretty enough. Cute, everyone said, with her sparkling green eyes and her dark brown hair cut in a shaggy pixie style with bangs that grazed her eyebrows.
Lea has a great smile, everyone always said. Her smile lights up her face.
Well, she hadn't had much to smile about at Shadyside High. The kids all seemed so snooty and stuck-up. And now she had tripped in front of half the school and poured chili all over that red-haired girl in the white sweater.
“Here,” a voice said, startling Lea from her thoughts. “Have a handful of salad.”
“Oh.” It was one of the boys from the table. He had picked up Lea's tray and was scooping up the remains of her lunch. “Thanks,” Lea said uncertainly.
He grinned at her as she took the tray from him. She could feel her face grow hot again.
He's cute, Lea thought.
Not really handsome. But cute. He had a friendly, open face with curly brown hair and brown eyes. He was short, like Lea, not very muscular, very boyish looking. He was wearing a maroon and gray Shadyside High sweatshirt over faded jeans.
He retrieved Lea's silverware from the floor and deposited it on the tray. “That looked like good chili,” he said, still grinning.
They were both squatting down below the tabletop, Lea holding the tray as he continued tossing lunch remains on it. Lea licked her lips, a nervous habit she just couldn't break. “I slipped,” she said.
she thought. That was pretty obvious, wasn't it?
“Marci'll get over it,” he said reassuringly. But then he added, “In a hundred years or so.” His grin faded.
“She was really mad,” Lea said.
That's obvious too! she scolded herself. Why do you have to sound like such a dweeb?
“She's a redhead,” he said, as if that explained anything.
They both stood up. He wiped his hands on his jeans and looked to the lunchroom door. Marci hadn't returned. The other kids at the table had left.
“You're new here,” he said, staring into her eyes, studying her.
“Yeah. This is my second week,” Lea said uncomfortably, holding on to the tray with both hands. “Next week will probably be better,” she added wryly.
“What's your name?”
“Lea. Lea Carson.”
“I don't know any Leas,” he said, pulling the bottom of his sweatshirt down over his wiry frame. “I'm Don Jacobs. You've probably heard of me. I'm the guy who picks the salad up from the floor.”
Lea laughed. He waited for her to say something, but she couldn't think of anything to say.
I hate being shy, she thought. Hate it, hate it, hate it.
He looked toward the lunchroom door again, then back to her. “You a senior?”
She licked her lips. She had to think. “Mr. Robbins.”