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Authors: R.L. Stine

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BOOK: Killer's Kiss
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“H
ey, Karina! Wait up. I've been looking all over for you,” Britty called. “Want to hang out after school today?”

“I don't know,” Karina replied. “I have a voice lesson at five, and I'm supposed to study with Stewart before that. What did you want to do?”

Britty bent to tie her shoelace, forcing Karina to stop walking while she waited.

“Good move,” Delia whispered to herself. If they went too far down the hall, I wouldn't be able to hear them.

“I thought we could go to the mall or something,” Britty said as she fiddled with her sneaker. “Or just talk. You know, the way we used to.”

“Talk?” Karina asked. “About what?”

Britty glanced at the doorway where Delia hid. She cleared her throat. “Oh, come on, Karina. You know I'm Delia's best friend. We're
all
friends, right? I think we need to talk about what happened in the gym the other day.”

Delia watched Karina laugh. “Oh, that! I lost it for a moment. No big deal.”

“No big deal?” Britty's voice rose. “You almost
strangled
Delia!”

Delia felt a chill run up her back as she studied Karina's serene expression. She doesn't even care if she hurt me, Delia realized. Does she even remember what happened?

“You need to talk to
somebody
, Karina,” Britty urged her. “It doesn't have to be me. Maybe then you would realize you're not acting …” Britty hesitated. “You'd realize …”

“Realize what?” Karina asked impatiently. “That Delia isn't willing to face reality?”

Delia gasped.

Britty glanced nervously toward the lab room. “Karina—” she began.

“Tell your best friend Delia something for me,” Karina said softly, so softly Delia could barely hear her. “Tell her she'll never win the Conklin. I guarantee it. And she won't get Vincent away from me either.”

Delia's stomach flipped over. It was bad enough hearing Karina say that when she went nuts in the gym.

But now she sounded so much like the regular Karina. Normal and confident.

Except that her words were still crazy. She still thought that she and Vincent were a couple.

Delia closed her eyes, fighting against the icy feeling creeping into her stomach. She swallowed hard.

If Karina thought she and Vincent were a couple, what would she do to keep him?

“Did you hear me, Delia?” Karina called loudly.

Delia's eyes flew open.

“I know you're standing there listening,” Karina called. “Listen all you want. Do you
really
want to hear something?”

Her voice grew shrill, angry. “I'll give you something to listen to, Delia. I'll do anything. Do you hear me? I'll do
anything
to keep you from winning!”

♦ ♦ ♦

Will I be able to fall asleep? Delia wondered.

Or will I lie awake all night thinking about the talent competition tomorrow?

Maybe I should get out of bed and tune my guitar again.

She sat up.

No. I've tuned it twice. It wasn't out of tune to begin with.

Maybe I should rehearse a little more. Go over my song.

No. I practically know it backward and forward.

Delia let her head slump back onto the pillow. She shut her eyes tightly.

Sleep. Sleep.

I'll never win the talent competition if I yawn in the middle of my song.

She rolled onto her side. Her legs were tangled in the bedsheet.

I wonder what Karina is doing right now, Delia thought. I wonder if she is staring up at the ceiling, as awake as I am. Worrying about tomorrow.

No way. She's probably been asleep for an hour.

She probably went right to sleep because she knew I'd be wide awake!

Crazy thoughts …

Don't go paranoid, Delia scolded herself.

She shut her eyes again and forced herself to think about popcorn. Soft, fluffy popcorn—piles and piles of it—floating down from the sky, covering the ground like snow.

Popcorn. So soft. So silent …

It always worked.

A few minutes later she drifted into a light sleep.

Some time later, she blinked herself awake. And jerked her head up from the warm pillow.

What was that sound?

A scraping sound.

Delia turned to the doorway, instantly alert.

A scraping sound. Followed by a cough.

“Who's there?” she called out, her voice choked with sleep.

A footstep. But no reply.

In the gray light from the open bedroom door, Delia saw a dark form move toward her.

“Who is it?”

No reply.

Delia started to sit up.

But before she could move, a hand covered her mouth and nose. Squeezed her cheeks. Pressed down, keeping her from crying out.

Delia twisted her head, arched her body. Tried to slide out from under the hand.

But the hand gripped too tightly for her to escape. The palm closed over Delia's nose, blocking the air.

Struggling, squirming, thrashing her legs, Delia stared up at her attacker.

Saw the light hair. The narrowed, determined eyes.

And recognized her.

Karina!

With an angry burst of power, Delia raised both arms—and batted Karina's hand away.

“Karina—” Delia choked out hoarsely. “Karina—what are you
doing?”

Karina's eyes flashed in the darkness. And then Delia saw another flash.

A metallic flash at Karina's waist.

The shape of a small pistol.

“This won't hurt, Delia,” Karina whispered.

Delia sank back helplessly as Karina raised the pistol. Raised it over Delia's head.

“This won't hurt,” Karina rasped. “You won't feel a thing.”

Chapter

10

T
he glint of silver rose higher.

Delia stared up in horror. Waited for the explosion. Waited for the pain.

“Ohh!” She gasped as she realized she wasn't staring up at a pistol.

Karina held a silvery tube of lipstick in her hand.

“Karina—wait!” Delia pleaded.

She felt Karina's other hand press down on her chest.

And then Karina lowered the lipstick tube. Lowered it. Pressed the lipstick hard against Delia's cheek.

Delia felt the lipstick smear down her cheek. Across her chin.

She struggled to sit up. But Karina held her down.

Smearing the sticky lipstick over Delia's forehead now. Rubbing it in her ears. Pushing it along the sides of Delia's nose.

“Karina—stop!” Delia begged.

“Stop. Please—stop. Please. Why are you doing this? Stop! Please!”

As she begged, Delia suddenly realized that she was dreaming.

She was in the dream—and outside the dream at the same time.

She willed herself awake. Opened her eyes.

Her face tingled.

She sat up and rubbed her hands over her face.

No lipstick. No Karina and no lipstick. Just a dream.

Just a frightening dream …

“Karina, I'm afraid of you when I'm awake. And now you frighten me in my sleep,” Delia murmured.

What am I going to do?

What am I going to do?

♦ ♦ ♦

Delia was number seven.

Last.

Shifting slightly in the springy auditorium seat, she crossed her legs. She banged into Britty. “Sorry,” Delia murmured. She uncrossed her legs.

“Sit still, will you?” Britty whispered, keeping her eyes on the stage where Stewart was performing his magic act. “You
wanted
to perform last.”

“I thought I would be able to relax and check out the competition,” Delia whispered back. “But this is making me nuts!”

Delia applauded mechanically as Stewart pulled his pet beagle out of a top hat.

Britty giggled. “How did he get the dog
in
there in the first place?”

“How should I know?” Delia mumbled. She crossed her legs again.

“Relax,” Britty ordered.

“Great advice,” Delia said, rolling her eyes. “Tell that to my stomach.” She uncrossed her legs again.

Delia held her hands up in front of Britty. “My palms are sweating. My hands are shaking. There's no way I'm going to be able to play the guitar. And how am I ever going to be able to sing my song?”

Britty started to chew on a strand of her long hair. “Stop it, okay? You're making
me
nervous!” she exclaimed.

Delia scraped her wet palms against her black skirt. Then she reached for her purse and pulled out a little mirror.

She checked her Midnight Wine lipstick—for about the millionth time. She straightened her brightly colored brocade vest. She tugged down the sleeves of her white blouse.

If only she didn't have to go last.

I wish I could fast-forward my life, she thought.

“Abracadabra!” Stewart whipped away the silk cloth he had draped over his hand. A red-and-yellow parrot perched on his fingers.

Delia applauded along with the rest of the audience. About thirty or forty kids had stayed after school to watch the talent competition.

He's good, Delia thought. He pulls off some great tricks. But his act isn't too original.

Karina has a better voice. She's going to score much higher. But if the judges give me some points for writing my own song, I have a shot at winning the talent section, Delia decided.

“Where did he get a parrot?” Britty laughed.

Stewart bowed and everyone applauded some more. Then he collected his props from around the stage. He appeared relieved as he carried them off.

Delia's stomach tightened. Closer. The big moment was getting closer. Only one more number to sit through. She wondered how she'd ever get through it—especially since it was Karina's.

“I wish Vincent could be here,” Delia said. “But he said his mom was making him take his little brother to the dentist. Can you believe it?”

“Well, I'm here to cheer you on,” Britty reminded her. “And Gabe is right backstage. He promised that you'll look great under the lights he set up for your song.”

Two boys rolled a massive grand piano onto the
stage. “Karina's piano,” Britty explained. “I heard she had it shipped from her house especially for today.”

Delia shook her head. This gets worse and worse every second, she thought. An older woman sat down at the piano and started playing scales.

“Karina's voice coach,” Britty announced.

Delia gripped the arms of her seat and gazed at Karina. She sat in the front row, and appeared calm and cool. And blond and beautiful.

As if she could feel Delia's eyes on her, Karina turned. Her lips started to pull back in a sneer. Then she must have remembered the judges. She smiled brightly and waved.

“What a phony,” Delia muttered to Britty.

Delia thought about what had happened last week. How Karina had caught her eavesdropping. How Karina had threatened her.

Since then, she had passed Karina in the halls several times. And every time Karina acted so sweet, it made Delia's stomach ache.

The judges called Karina's name. Delia watched her stand and make her way up to the stage.

“Same dress she wore to homecoming,” Britty muttered.

Yeah, Delia thought. The same
beautiful
dress. Blue satin that clung to Karina's slender figure.

Karina glided to the center of the stage. She introduced her song. Her voice sounded steady and
confident. Then she stepped back while her accompanist played the introduction.

When Karina started to sing, everybody in the auditorium sat spellbound. “Wow!” Britty breathed.

Karina didn't just have a good voice. She had a fabulous voice—clear and pure. Even though Delia didn't understand one word of the Italian song Karina sang, she knew it was a love song. A beautiful love song.

Beautiful. Just like Karina.

Trying hard to appear casual, Delia turned in her seat. She had to see the judges' reactions. The three judges sat at the side, smiling as they stared up at the stage.

As Delia turned back, she noticed someone staring at her from down the row. She leaned forward, craning her neck to see past Britty.

“Sarah?” she whispered. “What is Sarah doing here?”

“Shh!” Britty nudged her in the side.

“But why would Sarah …?”

“She's your kid sister,” Britty whispered. “Of course she's here. She wants to see how you do.”

“Right.” That proved Britty didn't know Sarah too well. “Any normal sister would want to see how I do. But Sarah isn't normal, remember?”

“Shh.” The girl sitting in front of Delia turned around and raised a finger to her lips.

Embarrassed, Delia sank back in her seat. Then she stared down the row again.

Her sister was staring hard at her. And she had the strangest smile on her lips.

A pleased smile.

BOOK: Killer's Kiss
4.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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