The Stepsister (14 page)

“Are you okay?” someone shouted over the loud music.

“Yeah, I guess,” she managed to reply.

Whoever it was quickly disappeared to his seat.

Everything ached.

She tried to stand, but sank back onto her knees on the hard, cold floor of the aisle. From down below on the stage the twangs and squeals of the band seemed to bounce around inside her head and make her feel even dizzier.

She closed her eyes.

The whole fall must have lasted only two or three seconds.

When she opened them, Jessie was running down the stairs, with Nancy right behind her, looking very frightened.

“What happened?” Nancy called. “I was talking to Carla. Then I turned around and saw you falling. How did you fall like that?”

“I didn't fall. Somebody pushed me,” Emily said, staring hard at Jessie.

Jessie leaned down and gently started to help Emily to her feet. “It must have been an accident,” Jessie said. “No one would do that on purpose.” She looked innocently into Emily's eyes. “You could have been killed,” she said.

Jessie and Josh

T
he weather finally turned cold, the kind of wet cold that clings to your clothes and makes your ears burn. The wind blew the trees, bending them back and shaking down the remaining brown leaves. The full moon disappeared behind a thick curtain of gray-pink clouds. It felt like snow.

Emily turned the corner onto Fear Street, walking quickly, rolling up her coat sleeve to check her watch. Ten-fifteen. Her breath, steamy and white, fogged the watch crystal.

She pulled the blue wool cap down tighter over her ears and began walking faster. The wind blew a stampede of crackling, brown leaves past her, and for a moment she felt as if she might be swept away with them, carried by the wind down this familiar street that was still frightening even though she knew every house, every empty lot, practically every tree.

Fear Street.

Some of her friends teased her about living on this street that held so many dark legends for the town of Shadyside. Emily had lived on Fear Street most of her life, since she was seven or eight, and hadn't witnessed any of the horrors her friends teased her about.

Sure, she had sometimes heard strange moans and howls coming from the woods late at night. But the Fear Street cemetery never held any particular horror for her. And she didn't really believe all the Fear Street stories about unsolved murders and mysterious disappearances, stories that sometimes even made it into the Shadyside newspaper.

Nevertheless, she picked up her pace as soon as she got to Fear Street, jogging along the side of the narrow, tree-lined road as it curved toward her house, her heart pounding just a little faster than usual, her eyes wide, alert to anything that moved.

She had been studying at Kathy's house, just a few blocks away on Hawthorne Drive, and had lost track of the time. Actually, she had deliberately lost track of the time, she realized. It was so nice to be at Kathy's, away from her own house, away from . . . Jessie.

How sad, Emily thought, not to be comfortable in your own home.

How . . . unbearable.

The wind shifted. The scuttling brown leaves were coming at her now. Her house came into view, dark against the deep red sky. “Couldn't someone at least turn on the porch light?” she asked aloud.

Doesn't anyone care about me anymore? she thought.

And then she stopped.

There was a blue car parked in the cul-de-sac around the corner from her house. Josh's Toyota.

That's strange, Emily thought, beginning to jog again. Why would he park so far from the house? He always pulls up the drive.

What is he doing here?

Her puzzlement gave way to happiness. What a nice surprise—Josh came to visit me, she thought. Josh wasn't the most spontaneous person in the world. It was a good sign that he had just decided to pop in unexpectedly.

Despite the cold that made her nose and cheeks feel numb, Emily was suddenly flooded with warm feelings. I'm so lucky, she thought. Josh is such a great guy. And he really seems to care about me.

She jogged past the cul-de-sac, eager to get to her house. The sky suddenly lost its color, fading from red to black. It was so dark now she could barely see the car, even though she was just a few yards beyond it.

But something caught her eye. A movement inside. A flash of color against the fogged-up window.

Emily stopped. Someone was in the car.

“Josh?”

Her voice came out tiny. She was out of breath from jogging along the street.

She took a few steps toward the car.

Why would he be sitting by himself in there? Why hadn't he gone up to the house to wait where it was warm?

“Oh.”

The window was steamed up, but she could suddenly
see that he wasn't alone in there. Staring from the darkness of the curb, so close to the car yet feeling a million miles away, as if watching through a telescope, she could see that someone was in the front seat with him. It was hard to see clearly. But she saw enough. It was Jessie!

Josh had his arms wrapped around her. And they were frozen in a long, passionate kiss.

“Oh.”

Emily stood in the drive staring into the steamed-up window.

She wasn't seeing things—was she? It
was
Jessie in there with Josh—right?

Yes.

She suddenly felt so heavy. So heavy she wanted to drop down onto the driveway. So heavy she wanted to sink through the asphalt and just keep sinking, sinking into the earth until she disappeared forever.

Jessie and Josh?

She wanted to scream. She wanted to pound on the car window. Tear open the door. Pull them both out into the cold.

But she felt so heavy, so weighed down, so paralyzed.

Somehow she started to run.

Before she even realized it, she was past the blue Toyota and running at full speed away from the car, away from the house, running into the wind, into the clattering leaves which blew up against her, brushing her legs, as if trying to push her back, back to the scene she didn't want to see.

Jessie and Josh?

Her dismay at seeing them locked together in that steamy embrace turned to fury.

Jessie was ruining her life in every way!

Jessie killed her dog, tried to kill her—and now she had taken Josh!

“Why is she doing this?” Emily asked herself. “Why does she hate me
so much
?”

She kept running into the wind, her face frozen, her eyes tearing, ducking her head, running without seeing where she was going, everything a dark blur, the only sound the scraping, scratching of the blowing, dead leaves.

I'm going back there, she thought, her heart pounding.

I'm going to confront her. I can't let her drive me out of my own house, out of my own
life.

Is that what Jessie wanted? Did she want to have Emily's
life?

Well, she's not getting it without a fight, Emily thought, her anger turning her around, forcing her back.

I'm through being the victim.

I'm ready to face her down. I want my own life back. I'm not going to let Jessie steal everything.

Walking fast, her mouth trailing white steam with every step, she rounded the curve toward her house. And saw that the car was gone.

Feeling a mixture of relief and disappointment, Emily ran up the drive, tore off her gloves, fumbled with frozen hands in her backpack until she found her house key, and let herself in through the front door.

Nancy was in the front hall. Startled by Emily
bursting in, she nearly dropped the glass of diet soda she was holding. “Oh—it's you,” she said, recovering quickly. “Close the door. You're bringing the cold in with you. Look at you—you look frozen!” Nancy chattered nervously. “How come you—”

“Where are Josh and Jessie?” Emily demanded, breathing hard.

“What?”

“Josh and Jessie—where are they?” Emily leaned on the banister, trying to catch her breath.

“I don't know. I haven't seen them,” Nancy said, confused. “What's your problem, anyway?”

“Is Jessie upstairs?” Emily asked, ignoring Nancy's question.

“No. I don't think she's back. She went over to Krysta's. At least, that's what she said. She won't be back till later.”

“Krysta's?”

Jessie was such a liar.

She told them she was going to Krysta's, then spent the evening with Josh.

Kissing in the car.

Steaming up the windows with Emily's boyfriend.

“What's wrong with you? You're bright red,” Nancy said. “Why are you acting so weird?”

Without answering, Emily turned and ran up the stairs. She couldn't explain it all to Nancy now. She knew if she started, she'd burst into tears.

She wanted to hold it all in, hold it in until Jessie got home.

The upstairs hallway was dark. Her eyes struggled to adjust. Everything looked red for a few seconds.
She blinked, waiting for everything to come into focus, then stopped at the door to her room.

The door was closed for some reason. She put her ear to the door and listened.

Someone was moving around in there.

What's going on? she thought.

Are Josh and Jessie in my bedroom?

She took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Oh, Brother

“W
hat are you doing in here?” Emily asked, her voice coming out shaky and high-pitched.

Rich looked up from her bed, startled. “Oh. Hi.” His face turned bright red. He closed the book he had been reading, turned, and sat up.

Emily walked into the room. All of the lights were on. Rich had been lying on top of her covers, the bed still made.

“What are you doing in here?” she repeated, forcing her voice down, starting to feel a little calmer.

“I—I'm sorry,” Rich stammered. He stood up awkwardly, dropped the book onto the rug, bent over to pick it up. “I was just . . . reading.”

“But why?” Emily demanded, walking closer. She pulled off her coat and tossed it onto the desk chair.

“There were . . . uh . . . noises. In my room. I don't know. I guess I got scared.” Rich looked very scared
now. Is he really that frightened of me? she wondered. Or does he have some other reason to be scared?

“So I came in here,” he said, edging toward the door. “It was quiet in here. I just wanted to read.”

Emily couldn't decide whether to believe Rich or not. He certainly didn't look as if he were telling the truth. But, she realized, Rich always looked guilty. He always looked as if he had just done something wrong and knew he was about to be caught.

He was the most nervous boy she had ever known. He had been living with her in the same house for weeks now, and Emily realized she didn't know the first thing about him.

Except that he was shy and liked to read horror novels. And that he was constantly getting into trouble in school and had been caught shoplifting a cassette.

Beyond that, he was still a total stranger.

And now there he was, standing against the wall, his face still red, looking so guilty, so . . . frightened.

Emily found herself feeling sorry for the kid. “Do you want to stay and read a little longer?” she asked.

“No. No, thanks.” He smiled at her. It was the first time she had ever seen him smile. “That's real nice of you.” He seemed genuinely touched by her offer.

“Well . . .” She was beginning to feel as awkward as he looked.

“I'll go back to my room. The noises are probably gone. I shouldn't have gotten scared. It's just—it's just . . . Oh, well.” He shrugged and disappeared out the door.

Weird kid, Emily thought.

As soon as he was gone, her anger returned.

She dropped down onto her bed. She saw the steamed-up Toyota again. Saw Josh and Jessie wrapped up in the front seat.

Where were they now? Where had they gone together?