The Wrong Girl (Return to Fear Street Book 2)

I stared in surprise, my legs trembling, my heart pounding, at Lucas, the weird guy from Harlow’s store. He stared back at me with those dark eyes that seemed to be jumping around all the time. His brown hair fell in tangles at the sides of his head. The light caught the silver ring in his nose.

He wore a flannel shirt, open to reveal a stained T-shirt underneath, and baggy jeans that hung low enough to show a few inches of his boxer shorts.

As he stared at me, a lopsided smile formed on his pale face.

“Lucas, what are you doing here?” I demanded. My muscles were tight. I was on high alert. Ready to run if I had to. “Did you follow me?”

His smile grew wider. His crazy eyes seemed to penetrate me. His expression, the way he stood, as if ready to stop me, was chilling.

“You . . . have to leave,” I choked out. “I mean it. You have to leave now.”

I took a sharp intake of breath as he moved toward me.

“But I like you,” he whispered.

What?

“Lucas, listen—”

Before I could back away, he was right in front of me, so close I could smell the beer on his breath. “No. Listen—” I started.

He took the ends of my scarf in his hands and began to play with them. “I like you, Poppy,” he whispered. “I like you a lot.”

“Let go of me!” I screamed. I grabbed his arms hard and shoved him away. As he staggered back, he pulled the scarf off my neck. “Go away, Lucas. Go away!” I cried.

I spun away from him and started to run to my car. I didn’t care about the scarf. I just wanted to get away.

I could hear him running after me. I glanced back and saw him waving my scarf in front of him as he ran. “I like you, Poppy,” he called, his words ringing off the concrete walls as if they were all around me, surrounding me. “Don’t run away. I like you.”

I tugged the car keys from my bag. I was just a few feet away from the car. Could I get inside and lock the door before he caught me?

“Ohhhhh!” I screamed as I fumbled the keys and they flew from my hand. They clattered to the garage floor and bounced toward my car.

I dove for them.

But Lucas was too fast. He dropped to his knees and scooped my keys into his hand.

As I stood over him, gasping for breath, an ugly smile crossed his face. He raised the keys, just out of my reach. “Look what I found. Guess you’re not going anywhere.”