The Prom Queen Read online

  “I’d like to,” I said genuinely. “But my parents told me this morning they want me home early and they don’t want me going out after dark.”

  I’m an only child. Maybe that’s why my mom and dad have always been so overprotective. But this time I didn’t mind it. With a killer on the loose, being overly protected sounded just great.

  I could still see Simone arguing heatedly with Justin. Amazing. How much trouble could he get into during one assembly? Justin uttered an exasperated cry, threw his hands up in the air, and hurried out.

  “I can’t believe I was nominated,” Rachel said.

  “Why not?” I replied. “You deserve it.”

  “I know,” she cracked. “I just didn’t know anyone else knew!”

  I laughed as Elana walked up to us. Her perfect little apple cheeks were flushed red with excitement; she resembled a porcelain doll.

  “It’s time to celebrate,” she said. “How about we all go to Pete’s Pizza? I’m driving. I’ve got the Mercedes today!”

  Rachel flashed a broad smile. She always got a thrill at being included in any group outing.

  “Way to go, Elana!” Brad Coleman said, clapping her on the back as he hurried past. Anything for a chance to touch her, I thought.

  Smiling a perfect smile, Elana called back her thanks. She tossed her short blond hair. “Simone!”

  Simone was about twenty yards away, an unhappy scowl on her face. “I can’t believe it,” she grumbled, walking over to us. “During the assembly I saw Justin coming on to Meg Dalton. If he goes out with her behind my back, I’ll kill him.”

  It’s funny. That silly threat was the first thing that flashed through my mind two days later when we learned that Simone had disappeared.

  Chapter

  2

  “T his is so cool!” Elana yelled over the noise of the car radio, which was cranked up all the way. “I mean, trying to guess which of us will be prom queen.”

  We had all piled into Elana’s parents’ silver Mercedes and were headed for Pete’s Pizza. I was in the backseat between Rachel and Simone. Dawn was in the front, changing the radio stations non-stop.

  “Dawn, turn that down!” screeched Simone, staring into a green folder in her lap. “I’m trying to learn my lines.”

  For the drama club’s spring production, Robbie Barron was directing The Sound of Music. The show would be performed on the Friday night of prom weekend, to kick off our spring festival.

  Simone was playing Maria Von Trapp, of course. She always was the star. Even though she didn’t make a very convincing nun.

  Dawn clicked off the radio and said, “You’re right, Elana, one of us is going to be prom queen, but I’m the only one who knows who. Me.”

  Simone leaned forward. “You’ll win for humility, that’s for sure,” she said sarcastically.

  “If I wanted to win a humility contest, I could win it,” Dawn said. “No one can beat me at anything.”

  I glanced at Rachel, and she rolled her eyes.

  Elana pulled into the Division Street Mall and glided into a parking space near the restaurant. “Lock up,” she told us, hopping out.

  “Sure,” muttered Rachel as she got out of the car. “We wouldn’t want the car to be stolen. It’d be at least a day before her dad could buy another one.

  I laughed quietly. I didn’t know how else to react to Rachel’s bitterness.

  I had to admit I was feeling good. Really happy. But then Rachel brought up the murder again.

  The restaurant was packed. We had trouble finding a table for five. When we found one, way in the back, it took hours for a waitress to appear to take our order.

  The pizza had finally arrived and we were grabbing for slices when Rachel said, “What if the mayor gives us an early curfew because of the killer?”

  Everyone groaned. “Seriously,” Rachel insisted. “What if we can’t have the prom because of that dead girl—Stacy?”

  “Gee, Rachel,” Dawn said, “you were criticizing me for not being sensitive. I mean, a girl gets murdered, and all you can think about is the prom.”

  Rachel blushed. “That’s not what I meant,” she muttered. “I mean, I— Oh, never mind.”

  Simone had a thoughtful expression on her face. I asked her what she was thinking.

  “About my parents,” she replied, frowning. Here I’m the star of this play, and I bet they won’t come to see me.” She dropped her pizza slice onto her plate. “When I tell them about being a prom queen candidate, they won’t even say a word.”

  “Simone,” I chided her. “You know they care. They’re just busy, that’s all.”

  “The only thing I keep thinking about is this killer. Isn’t there anything we can do to protect ourselves from this psychopath?” Elana asked, obsessing about the killer.

  I said, “Maybe we could all disguise ourselves as guys.”

  Simone immediately took up my idea. She lowered her voice. “Hey, there aren’t any young high school girls here, Mr. Serial Killer,” she growled. “You must have the wrong house.”

  She rubbed her nose roughly like a guy would and coughed as if to spit. By then we were all laughing. Whenever I thought Simone was too self-centered to bother with, she acted funny. And then I forgave her.

  “You know what?” Dawn said. “I don’t think I’m going to sleep so hot tonight, either.”

  “You’ll sleep better than I will,” Rachel told her. “I’m the one who lives on Fear Street—remember?”

  Just then two hands closed around her neck.

  “Gotcha,” a male voice said.

  It was Gideon Miller, Rachel’s boyfriend.

  “Not funny!” Rachel cried, but she smiled up at him anyway.

  “Were you girls talking about me?” Gideon asked, grinning.

  “No. Actually,” said Dawn, “we were talking about the killer.”

  “That’s cheerful,” Gideon said dryly, rolling his eyes. “Hey—is Rachel going to win the three thousand dollars?” he asked and put his hands on her shoulders.

  “What do you care?” Rachel asked. “If I win, you don’t think I’d share it with you—do you? Even you aren’t that egotistical.”

  Gideon laughed. “Ooh—big word. Big word! Have you been studying your vocabulary list today?” He waved to the guys he was with, who were waiting for him just inside the glass doors. “No, I just thought if you won, maybe you’d take me to a movie or something.”

  “Maybe,” Rachel teased.

  “Gotta go,” Gideon said. He gave Rachel’s shoulders a squeeze and headed off to join his friends.

  “What were we talking about?” Simone asked, pulling all the pepperoni off her slice and stuffing it into her mouth.

  “The killer,” Rachel replied, her eyes following Gideon.

  “Please—” Elana wiped her mouth primly with a napkin—“enough talking about this killer business. I mean it.”

  “All right,” Dawn said. “We’ll talk about something else. I know—let’s talk about the prom and about how I’m going to be elected queen.”

  “I’ve got a better idea. What about the two-minute speeches we have to give to the entire school?” Elana suggested. “Have any of you thought about them?”

  Just then I had an idea. It was kind of a variation on Mr. Meade’s game. “Let’s do each other’s speeches,” I said. Everyone’s expression was blank. “It’ll be fun,” I said, explaining. “Right now.”

  “All right,” Simone said. “I’ll do Dawn.”

  She tilted her head back and put her hair behind her ears the way Dawn wore hers. She stuck her jaw out as Dawn did when she was feeling competitive, which was just about always.

  It was amazing. With just a few simple gestures, Simone had transformed herself into Dawn! Everyone began to laugh, Dawn the loudest, clapping her hands as if she really found Simone amusing. I knew she hated it, though.

  “Hi,” Simone began. “My name’s Dawn Rodgers. Yeah!” She pumped her fist in the air in victory.
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  “Right on!” shouted some jocks at a nearby table.

  Dawn had a big grin on her face, but she was blushing. She had to be blushing pretty hard to see it through her tan.

  “Anyway,” continued Simone. “Let’s face it, I’m your next prom queen.”

  We all clapped. Simone acknowledged the applause by pumping her fist again. Laughing harder, Dawn said, “Okay, my turn, I’ll—” But Simone kept going.

  “Now, I know there are four other candidates,” Simone continued. “But as you all know, I’m number one in everything I do, so—”

  “Okay.” Dawn jumped up, her eyes flashing. “My turn. Here’s Simone’s speech.”

  I was beginning to think this wasn’t such a bright idea after all.

  “But I’m not finished yet,” Simone said.

  “My name’s Simone Perry,” Dawn said, ignoring her. She tossed her hair back the way Simone always did. “Gee, I have so many people to thank for winning this Oscar for best actress—oops. What am I saying? I mean, for winning prom queen.”

  Now it was Simone’s turn to pretend to be enjoying it.

  “I’d just like to say that I’m such a sensitive artist,” cooed Dawn, “that I’m the only one capable of playing the role of a queen.”

  She took a deep bow, then sat down and smiled sweetly at Simone. “How did I do?”

  “You know,” I said, “maybe we should—”

  “My name is Rachel West,” said Elana, standing up.

  Oh, no, I thought. Elana—please.

  “And, uh . . .” Elana imitated Rachel’s slow way of talking. “Uh . . . well, I’m kinda poor.”

  “Ha-ha,” said Rachel. I could see she had been stung, but she had a big grin plastered across her face. Simone was laughing as Elana went on. “I—I, uh, wanted to prepare a speech, but I couldn’t afford it!”

  Rachel let out a loud, extra-fake guffaw. “Gee, that’s so funny, I almost forgot to laugh.”

  “Glad you liked it,” Elana responded.

  “I really did.” Rachel grinned. I could see she was trying to think of something cutting to say, but she couldn’t, so she just sat there, smiling.

  “Do Elana’s speech,” Simone coaxed.

  “Simone,” I said, “I think this is getting out of—”

  “All right,” Rachel said. “I will.” She stood up. “My name’s Elana Potter. It doesn’t matter if I’m prom queen or not. If I lose, my father will just send me on a trip to Europe until I’m feeling all better.”

  She flipped one side of her hair and lolled her head around the way Elana always did. Simone and Dawn were hysterical. Elana’s smile was frozen on her face.

  “No, but seriously, if there’s anyone here who’s thinking of not voting for me”—Rachel imitated Elana’s flirty laugh—“I’ll pay you a thousand dollars to change your mind.”

  Elana clapped loudly—twice. “Not bad,” she said, “but I don’t have to buy anyone’s vote. If you heard the applause today, you’d know that.”

  “Well, you couldn’t buy mine,” Rachel shot back, sitting down again.

  For a long moment no one said a thing. You could tell that everyone had gone just a little bit too far. Honesty is a good policy—but not too much honesty.

  “Great game, Lizzy,” Dawn finally said. “Now someone’s got to do you.”

  “That’s okay. Don’t do me any favors.”

  “No way,” Dawn persisted. “Everybody plays. Right, Simone?”

  But Simone wasn’t listening. She was staring past us, toward the front window of the restaurant.

  “Simone?” I said.

  Simone’s face had gone white.

  “Oh, no,” she mumbled. She stood up fast, knocking over my Sprite. The soda splashed all over Dawn and me. We both jumped out of our seats at the same time.

  “Oh, no,” Simone repeated. “No!”

  She had a look of total horror on her face. She screamed, “No! Stop!”

  And then raced out of the restaurant.

  Chapter

  3

  We were all on our feet now, staring out the window at Simone. We saw right away why she was so upset.

  Just outside Pete’s is a big indoor fountain. Standing beside the fountain was her boyfriend, Justin.

  He was standing very close to a tall, hot-looking blond girl—Vanessa Hartley.

  We watched as Simone approached them. We could see her call out to Justin, then fling her arm around his neck. It wasn’t the most affectionate gesture I had even seen.

  “She’s not too possessive or anything,” I cracked, watching Justin squirm. He moved away from Simone and nearly fell over backward into the fountain.

  “It figures,” said Dawn. “If Simone is screaming, it’s nothing important.”

  “She forgets she’s not on stage all the time,” agreed Rachel, sitting back down.

  “She’s jealous of anyone who even looks at Justin,” said Elana.

  I was still watching the scene out the window. Vanessa had taken off in a hurry. Justin had his arm around Simone now. He was talking to her, those light blue eyes of his flashing close to her face.

  “I’d be jealous too,” I joked. “Justin is such a babe!”

  I wasn’t kidding. Without exaggeration, I’d have to say that Justin was the best-looking, coolest, most popular guy at Shadyside High. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was also an all-state baseball player and the team captain of the Shadyside Tigers.

  Dawn leaned toward us and lowered her voice. “Can you guys keep a secret? Well, I can’t any longer.” She took a long dramatic pause before saying, “I went out with Justin last week.”

  Elana’s jaw dropped open, which meant she showed us a mouthful of chewed cheese and pepperoni. “You did what?” she asked.

  “Justin Stiles?” I couldn’t help exclaiming. “As in, Simone’s boyfriend?”

  “Hey,” Dawn said defensively, “it’s not like I tried to steal him away from her. He asked me, so I went.” She shrugged. “We had a good time too.”

  “I’ll bet,” said Elana, staring wistfully out the window at Justin. “I’d say yes if he asked me. Wouldn’t you, Liz?”

  “Sure,” I agreed. “If he wasn’t seeing Simone.”

  “Oh, what are you, a Girl Scout?” Dawn sneered.

  “What about you, Rachel?” Elana asked. “What would you say if Justin asked you out?”

  Rachel cracked a tiny smile. “He already asked me,” she said.

  Elana’s jaw dropped open again.

  Rachel’s smile broadened. “I said yes,” she added.

  • • •

  “The hills are alive,” sang Robbie Barron, flouncing around the stage, “with the sound of music.”

  He was surrounded by laughing nuns. They were waiting to rehearse an abbey scene. But Simone hadn’t shown up. She was late for the nine hundredth time.

  To pass the time Robbie had started doing an imitation of Simone. He was wearing Eva Clarke’s black and white hood and was dancing around like a madman. He did look pretty funny, with his thick, black-framed glasses.

  When he finished singing, he said, “That’ll teach Simone to be late.” He looked at his watch and scowled. “I wonder if our little Maria realizes that it’s hard to rehearse without the lead?”

  “How do you solve a problem like Maria,” the kids playing the nuns sang back.

  Robbie laughed but not for long. “I know how I’m going to solve the problem—I’m going to wring her neck.”

  I was there because I was in charge of sets. I wouldn’t be caught dead acting in front of an audience. I bet if I did act, that’s what I’d be—dead. I’d drop dead from stage fright!

  Right then I was standing in the wings painting a flat to look like the wall of the reverend mother’s abbey. This week, after the two murders, my overprotective parents let me out of the house at night for play rehearsals only.

  “Hey, Lizzy,” Robbie called, “do you have any idea where your friend Simone might b
e?”

  “Oh, sure,” I answered sarcastically. “When she’s in trouble, she’s my friend.”

  “Come on, don’t give me a hard time.” Robbie sounded as if he was out of patience. “Do you know where she is or not?”

  “No, I don’t—sorry.”

  “Well, this is getting ridiculous,” Robbie continued, checking his watch once again. “This is late even for Simone.”

  It was true—being late was part of Simone’s style. No matter what the occasion, she always ran at least half an hour behind.

  Two days had passed since the nominations for prom queen were announced. I hadn’t seen much of Simone, or any of the other nominees, since that afternoon at Pete’s. We hadn’t left on the best of terms.

  “Maybe she forgot she had rehearsal,” offered one of the nuns.

  “I reminded her three times today,” Robbie answered. “And I yelled at her about being late.” He pushed his black-framed glasses back up on his nose. “But still, knowing Simone, it’s possible she forgot.”

  He sighed dramatically and fished some change out of his jeans pocket. “Eva,” he said, “would you mind calling Simone’s house?”

  There was a pay phone outside the principal’s office. Eva was gone for several minutes. “No answer,” she announced when she returned.

  I dropped my paintbrush into the coffee can filled with water and peered out into the house. Justin liked to watch Simone’s rehearsals. He was usually slouched in the back row of the auditorium.

  Not that night, though.

  I stood up. “I’ll go look for her,” I volunteered. “Maybe she’s somewhere around the school.”

  I jumped off the stage and started wandering through the empty hallways. There weren’t many lights on. And there was absolutely nobody around. I don’t scare easily. But walking around empty hallways in the dark has never been high on my list of fun things to do.

  Where would I be, I asked myself, if I were Simone and I had forgotten about rehearsal?

  First I tried the library, but it was locked. Then I headed for the gym downstairs. Sometimes she hung around there waiting for Justin to finish baseball practice.