The Wrong Girl (Return to Fear Street Book 2)

I sat in my car and watched the video on my phone. I actually screamed when the flames burst from the back of Ivy’s car, and then I just sat there with my mouth open, unable to react when the car exploded in a burst of black smoke.

I couldn’t believe Manny had recorded the whole thing. And I couldn’t believe he put it online for everyone in the world to see. Mainly because it looked like a stunt. It didn’t look like an accident. And if the police and other people started to figure out this was fake, just a prank that went wrong, my friends could be in major trouble. I mean, my former friends, of course.

Poppy wasn’t speaking to me. She just ignored me in the halls at school. I didn’t know what I had done to deserve it. After all, she broke up with me. I didn’t dump her. I tried hanging with Jeremy and Ivy, but they acted really awkward around me. And I never really liked them much anyway. So . . . forget them.

And now I was watching another dumb prank they had pulled. This one blew up in their faces, literally, and I was glad not to have been there, glad not to be part of that group of idiots and their stupid jokes.

And could there be anything more stupid than putting the whole thing online? What was Manny thinking?

Whoa. No way. Now the street was filled with cops and firefighters, and everyone was out of their cars just gawking and shaking their heads. And there were Ivy and Poppy looking so sad, as if they were totally innocent and had no idea how the whole thing could have happened.

I had thought Poppy and I were a good couple. I was really into her. I mean really. And when she dumped me for that clown, Jack, I guess I went a little crazy. I went into fantasyland for a while.

I never told anyone, but I kept imagining her coming after me and begging me to take her back.

I had whole long conversations in my mind with Poppy crying and pleading and telling me how awesome I was and how dumb she was to be attracted to Jack, even for a minute. Sometimes in my imagination, we made up, and we wrapped our arms around each other, and I actually had a real warm feeling from it.

But other times, I resisted her. I was smart. She had proven she was not a good person. She was too wild and impulsive and thoughtless and cruel. And in my imaginary talks with her I told her to go away. I told her I could never care about someone like her, someone who would throw me away like a piece of trash.

I watched part of Manny’s video again. Then I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat and drove toward River Road. No, I hadn’t planned to go by Poppy’s house. That’s just the direction I chose. I didn’t really know where I was going.

I wished I had someone to share the video with, someone to laugh about it with and talk to about how dumb everyone was. But I didn’t. I was alone. And I ended up at Harlow’s Pic ’n’ Pay just before River Road starts to curve up from the river. Sometimes Harlow lets me buy a beer without carding me. He’s a good old guy.

I parked in the little lot in back and stepped in through the back door. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the lights. Harlow keeps the store extra-bright because he thinks it will discourage robbers. Good luck with that.

He was behind the glass counter in front pulling up some lottery tickets for an old couple. I started toward the beer fridges and bumped into a tall, skinny guy with a floor mop and bucket.

“Hey—” My eyes were still adjusting, and I almost didn’t see him.

He had greasy brown hair down over his forehead and funny eyes, dark eyes that seemed to be darting around all the time, like they were nervous. He had a silver ring in one ear and a silvery nose ring, and he wore a plain sleeveless white T-shirt over low, baggy jeans that looked like they’d drop to the floor at any second.

“How’s it going?” he said, leaning on the mop handle.

“Not bad.” I realized I’d seen him before. “You go to Shadyside?”

He shook his head. “Dropped out last year. Couldn’t take any more. You know?”

I tried to edge past him, but the soapy bucket was in the way. “So you work here?” I asked.

“Yeah. And a couple other places. Maintenance work. You know.”

“Maintenance work?”

“Yeah. I mop up and stuff. I’m Lucas. Lucas Smith.”

“Keith Carter,” I said.

I glanced to Mr. Harlow at the front. He was just shooting the breeze with the old couple while they scratched off their tickets. I turned back to Lucas. “Do you think I could get a beer?”

He propped the mop against the wall. “Yeah. No problem. I’ll get you one.” He motioned with his head to a small back room. I stepped inside. It was narrow and dimly lit. Stacks of soda and beer cases on one wall. Shelves of cleaning supplies.

Lucas brought me a Bud and I twisted off the cap. “Thanks, man.” I dropped onto a narrow wooden stool and took a long sip. It felt good on my throat. I hadn’t realized how much I needed it.

Poppy suddenly flashed into my mind. I don’t know why she kept showing up in my thoughts. I chuckled, thinking about how shocked she would be to see me drinking a beer.

She didn’t know me at all. And she didn’t care enough to find out.

I took another long slug of the Bud. Lucas and I talked for a while. He’d dropped out of school last year because his dad had left, and his family needed the money. He now did janitor-like work in three or four stores, and he said it paid him enough to get by.

He pulled a cigarette from a crinkled pack and offered the pack to me. “Smoke?”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t.”

He lit it with a plastic lighter and took a long drag. “You should. It’s very relaxing. Seriously.”

I watched him take another long puff. The smoke curled around his face. “You know they’re not good for you, right?” I said.

He snickered. “Doctors don’t know everything.”

I shrugged. “Whatever.” I finished my beer, thanked him, and climbed to my feet. I stopped at the doorway to the little back room. “What do you do for fun?” I asked him.

The question made him blush. His cheeks turned bright pink. A strange, lopsided smile spread across his face. “I like to follow girls around the store,” he said. “You know. I’m a stalker.” And then he burst out laughing. This crazy laugh. It just erupted from his chest.

I thought he was joking. I couldn’t really tell. So I just ignored what he said. Maybe I should have taken him seriously. I don’t know. Maybe I should have warned someone about him.

Later, in my room with the door locked, I cut a little deeper than usual. The knife dug into my shoulder. But I didn’t feel it at all. I was pretending to cut Poppy.

Cut cut.

It was her that I wanted to hurt.