The Wrong Girl (Return to Fear Street Book 2)

Of course, that was a fantasy.

Can’t blame a girl for her thoughts.

I had dinner at Ivy’s house that night. Her parents had decided not to cook. We had a big bucket of fried chicken and a bunch of sides, and what could be better than that?

Didn’t get me out of my funk, though.

After dinner, Jeremy and Manny joined us, and we went to my house. Heather wasn’t home. No idea where she was.

Mom left a note saying she had to work late at her lab. Mom is an entomologist and studies insect control. She’s doing some kind of experiments with hornets.

She explained it all to Heather and me a week or so ago. And she has to work fast because hornets don’t have the world’s greatest lifespan.

I grabbed tortilla chips and Cokes, and we huddled together in the den, all heavy green leather chairs and facing couches and a long dark wood coffee table cluttered with stacks of old magazines, and a fireplace we never use. The one room of the house designed by my dad before he and Mom split.

I was in the middle of describing my morning encounter with the lovely and talented Rose Groban. “She just let it slip that I didn’t get a part in the play,” I said.

Ivy’s mouth dropped open. “No part at all?”

I nodded. “Sari Bakshi got Traci. And Kathy Taylor got Gretchen, the old lady. And Rose was gloating and grinning like her face would fall off.”

I sighed. “I was so angry, I imagined a whole scene where I stabbed Rose in the stomach with a kitchen knife.” I laughed. Not a ha-ha laugh, a bitter, inhaling laugh. “Believe it? I pictured myself pulling out a knife from my backpack and shoving it right into her gut.”

“Are you sure you imagined it?” Manny said, grinning.

I rolled my eyes. “No. She’s lying dead in a pool of blood in the hall outside the home ec room.”

“You’ve always had a good imagination,” Ivy said. She smoothed a hand over her hair. Her eyes flashed. “Hey—maybe that could be our next prank. Murdering Rose!”

Manny laughed. “Our next prank? Who said we’re going to do another prank?”

“Why not?” Jeremy chimed in. “Everyone loved the pet-store prank online. All those dogs going berserk. We are already up to fifty thousand views. We’re famous!”

“So what can we do to Rose?” I said. “I’m serious about this. It’s payback time. I want revenge. We’ve got to think of something.” I shifted the navy-blue scarf around my neck. “Maybe I could just strangle her with this. You know. Keep it simple.”

“Whoa, are you in a violent zone!” Ivy said. “You’re scaring me, Poppy. Seriously.”

“Okay,” I said, “let’s think of something nonviolent. Nonviolent but really mean and devastating that will ruin her life forever.”

Manny laughed. “What’s your problem? I think Rose is kind of hot.”

I scowled at him. “You would.” I heaved the tortilla-chip bag at his head. Missed, and it landed in his lap. “Can we stick to the subject?” I said.

“What’s the subject?” Jeremy asked. “Revenge against Rose for being Rose?”

“You got it,” I said.

Ivy was perched on the wide leather arm of my chair. She jumped to her feet. “I know. We could go to the play and heckle her every time she comes onstage.”

“That’s not enough,” I said. “And if we do that, if we heckle her, we’ll just be thrown out of the auditorium. We’ll look bad, we’ll probably be suspended, and it’ll make her happy.”

Silence fell over the room as everyone tried to think of something. Actually, it wasn’t silent. I could practically hear the hum of brains going into overdrive. Jeremy muttered to himself. Ivy had her eyes shut, concentrating. We all tried to come up with something really, really evil.

“Hey!” Jack’s shout broke the silence. He burst into the room, his eyes going from person to person. Then he smiled—just for me. “Is this a wake? Everyone looks so serious.”

“We’re thinking,” I said.

“Hey, Jack, do you have any more stray dogs in your truck?” Jeremy asked. “Maybe when the play starts, we could let them loose . . .”

Jack shook his head. “No stray dogs. I’m not working for the kennel anymore.”

“We need something new,” Ivy told Jeremy. “We can’t repeat ourselves. That’s too boring.”

Jeremy shrugged. “Okay, I was just thinking.”

Jack pulled Ivy off the arm of my chair and took her place. He squeezed my shoulder. A tender squeeze. No one was watching. I pressed my cheek against his hand.

“What are we thinking about?” he asked.

Ivy dropped onto the floor and rested her back against the couch. Manny shoved a handful of chips into his mouth and tossed the bag to Jack.

I had a flash. “Here’s an idea,” I said. “Rose keeps a water bottle on her dressing room table. She always has one. She drinks a lot of water. So—”

“You want to steal her water bottle?” Manny interrupted.

“No. What if we sneak in early and pour laxative in her water?”

“Whoa!” Manny jumped from his seat, clapping his hands.

Ivy tossed her head back and laughed. Jeremy stared at me as if he’d never seen me before.

“It’s perfect,” Manny said. “Ohmigod. And then she walks onstage and . . . perfecto!”

“It’s definitely mean enough,” Jeremy said, still staring at me. I think he was shocked at what a devious mind I had.

“I love it,” Ivy said. “If we can pull this off . . . awesome idea, Poppy.”

Jack was the only one who hadn’t reacted. He climbed off the chair and strode to the fireplace. He leaned against the dark-wood mantel, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong?” I said.

“You’ll be caught,” he said.

“Not if no one sees us do it,” I argued.

“You’ll be caught. Rose will know who did it. Everyone will know who did it. And the police—”

“Police?” I said, my voice getting shrill. “Why would the police care?”

“It would be considered an assault,” Jack said. “You’d be arrested. Of course there’d be police.”

I crossed my arms in front of me. “Fine. You don’t like my idea? Okay, let’s think some more.”

I know. I sounded like a pouty, whiny five-year-old. But I was in an emotional state by this time. Maybe I was getting carried away. Maybe my idea was too horrible and humiliating.

I suddenly felt embarrassed.

We were silent for a long while, everyone thinking. And then . . . I had another idea. A smile slowly spread over my face. “Listen,” I said. “Listen, guys. I’ve got a better idea. Let’s cause a car wreck.”