Double Date
R. L. Stine
Double Date
The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book.”
First Archway Paperback printing April 1994
Talia, Seth, Maura, Rudy, Nessa, and Shandel are all members of the Thrill Club. Every week a member writes a story guaranteed to scare everyone to death. But when Shandel is found stabbed to death, truth becomes scarier than fiction.
FEAR STREET®
THE THRILL CLUB
by R.L.Stine
Coming in mid-April 1994
From Archway Paperbacks
Published by Pocket Books
Double Trouble
“I think Bree really likes you,” Samantha told him.
“I think I like you better,” Bobby replied.
“You’d better be careful,” she said, avoiding his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“You’d better be careful not to hurt her,” Samantha warned, raising her eyes to Bobby’s. “My sister can be a little … strange when she’s hurt.”
Bobby stared hard at Samantha. A cloud drifted over the moon and her face darkened. “What do you mean?”
“I really don’t want to talk about it,” she told him. “Just be careful with Bree, Bobby. Be very careful.”
Books by R. L. Stine
Fear Street
THE NEW GIRL
THE SURPRISE PARTY
THE OVERNIGHT
MISSING
THE WRONG NUMBER
THE SLEEPWALKER
HAUNTED
HALLOWEEN PARTY
THE STEPSISTER
SKI WEEKEND
THE FIRE GAME
LIGHTS OUT
THE SECRET BEDROOM
THE KNIFE
PROM QUEEN
FIRST DATE
THE BEST FRIEND
THE CHEATER
SUNBURN
THE NEW BOY
THE DARE
BAD DREAMS
DOUBLE DATE
The Fear Street Saga
THE BETRAYAL
THE SECRET
THE BURNING
Fear Street Cheerleaders
THE FIRST EVIL
THE SECOND EVIL
THE THIRD EVIL
Fear Street Super Chiller
PARTY SUMMER
SILENT NIGHT
GOODNIGHT KISS
BROKEN HEARTS
SILENT NIGHT 2
Other Novels
HOW I BROKE UP WITH ERNIE
PHONE CALLS
CURTAINS
BROKEN DATE
Available from ARCHWAY Paperbacks
For orders other than by individual consumers, Archway Books grants a discount on the purchase of 10 or more copies of single titles for special markets or premium use. For further details, please write to the Vice-President of Special Markets, Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.
For information on how individual consumers can place orders, please write to Mail Order Department, Paramount Publishing, 200 Old Tappan Road, Old Tappan, NJ 07675.
FEAR STREET.
Double Date
R.L. STINE
A Parachute Press Book
The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book.”
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK Original
An Archway Paperback published by
POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
Copyright © 1994 by Parachute Press, Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
ISBN: 0-671-78570-2
ISBN 13: 978-0-671-78570-3
eISBN 978-1-439-12088-0
First Archway Paperback printing April 1994
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FEAR STREET is a registered trademark of Parachute Press, Inc.
AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon and Schuster Inc.
Cover art by Bill Schmidt
Printed in the U.S.A.
IL 7+
chapter 1
School Spirit
Bobby Newkirk pressed against the locker door with one hand, squeezing Ronnie Mitchell into her locker.
“Ow!” she squealed in protest. “Let me out, Bobby!”
He grinned at her, the devilish grin he had practiced in a mirror. The grin that made girls melt. “Got you trapped.”
“Let me out!” Ronnie tried to break free. But she was a little girl, slender and short. Not strong enough to budge him.
Still grinning, he leaned forward and kissed her.
She returned the kiss. He knew she would.
Then she shoved him away, pushing both fists against the broad front of his maroon and white Shadyside High T-shirt.
He laughed and stepped back, allowing her to burst free.
“You’re terrible,” she scolded playfully, tossing a red curl off her forehead.
“You love it,” Bobby replied.
She straightened the bottom of her green T-shirt. “I had fun last night,” she murmured shyly, lowering her eyes. Her freckled cheeks reddened.
“Of course,” Bobby said, gazing over her shoulder to study himself in her locker door mirror. “You’re not bad yourself, babe.”
“Don’t call me babe,” Ronnie told him. “I really hate it. It’s so dumb.”
“Okay, babe.” He leaned forward to kiss her again, but she ducked to the side.
“People are watching!” Ronnie whispered.
“So?” Bobby shrugged his broad shoulders. “Let them be jealous.” He glanced into her mirror again and pushed back his straight blond hair. “I’ve got to run.”
Ronnie slipped her backpack onto one shoulder. “Where are you going?”
“Places.” Bobby grinned at her. He pulled a piece of lint off the shoulder of her T-shirt. Then he placed it on her little freckled nose.
Ronnie sighed and blew it away. “I’m going to cheerleader practice,” she said, glancing at the clock over their heads. Three-twenty. “Want to meet after?”
Bobby shook his head. “Unh-unh.” He turned away from her and gazed down the nearly empty hall. “I’ve got practice too. Catch you later, okay?”
He loped toward the music room at the end of the hall. Bobby moved with a confident, easy gait. He knew Ronnie’s eyes were on him. He was sure she was admiring him.
“Call me tonight?” Ronnie called after him. There was a pleading tone in her voice.
“Maybe,” Bobby muttered. He kept walking.
He liked Ronnie. She wasn’t the prettiest girl he had dated. With her tiny figure, red hair, and freckles, she looked about twelve. But she was okay. Kind of fun.
Why had he asked her out? Because she was the only Tigers cheerleader he hadn’t gone out with. He had to have a perfect record. He had to check Ronnie off his list.
I’ve gone out with all six cheerleaders. Bobby grinned to himself. Who says I don’t have school spirit?
His private joke made him laugh out loud. “I really crack myself up.”
All six girls were nuts about me too, Bobby decided.
Maybe I’ll call Ronnie again sometime, he thought. Maybe I’ll give the kid a break.
Just outside the music room, he stopped to talk to two guys. Jerry Marvin slapped him a high-five.
“What’s up?” Markie Drew asked Bobby.
“Where you guys going? Detention?” Bobby joked.
Jerry made a face. “My dad made me get a job. I’m working at McDonald’s. Making French fries.”
Bobby snickered. “Starting at the top, huh?”
“We don’t all have rich parents,” Jerry muttered.
“Too bad,” Bobby replied smugly.
Markie shifted his backpack to his other shoulder. “You still going with Cari Taylor?” he asked Bobby.
“No, I dumped her,” Bobby replied, a wide grin spreading across his handsome face.
Both Markie and Jerry reacted with surprise. “You did?”
Bobby nodded. “Yeah. She spilled Coke in my car. So I dumped her.” He chuckled. “Made her walk home too.”
“Wow.” Markie shook his head.
“Hey, man, can I have your rejects?” Jerry asked.
“Sure. Be my guest,” Bobby offered. He gazed distractedly at the music room. “Hey, later. I’m late for practice.”
His two friends headed off. Bobby started into the music room.
But two strong hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back.
“Bobby, I’m going to kill you!” a shrill voice cried. “I really am!”
chapter 2
“No Problem”
Bobby laughed. He didn’t bother to turn around. He recognized the voice. “Whoa!” he cried. “Don’t touch me unless you love me.”
Kimmy Bass let out an exasperated cry and pulled her hands from Bobby’s shoulders. “Where were you last night?” she demanded angrily.
Bobby spun around to face her. His blue eyes flashed. He opened them wide and gave her his best innocent, little-boy expression. “Last night?”
Kimmy tossed her dark, crimped hair in an angry gesture. Her round cheeks were bright red. She crossed her arms in front of her pale blue sweatshirt. “Yeah. Last night.”
Bobby pretended to think about it.
“We had a date, remember?” Kimmy said, her voice trembling. “You were coming over so we could study together. Then we were going to—”
“You look great,” Bobby interrupted. “You heading to cheerleader practice? Want to get a Coke or something later?”
Kimmy let out another groan. She balled her hands into fists at her sides. “Just answer my question, Bobby. I called your house last night, but you weren’t there. Did you forget about me?”
“No way,” Bobby replied, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She shoved it away.
“Actually,” Bobby continued, “I got a better offer.” He grinned at her.
Her mouth dropped open. No sound came out.
“Hey, Kimmy, you wouldn’t want me to lie, would you?”
Kimmy glared at him. The anger faded from her eyes. Her expression turned hard and cold. “Bobby, you really are a pig,” she said through clenched teeth.
Bobby snickered. “Yeah, I know.”
“You’re a pig,” Kimmy repeated. Then she began jogging quickly down the hall, her black hair bobbing.
“Hey, Kimmy—” Bobby called after her. “Should I call you later?”
She shouted a curse and disappeared around a corner.
Chuckling, Bobby stepped into the music room.
“Hey, Bobby.”
“Get your guitar, man. You’re late.”
Bobby nodded to Arnie and Paul, the other two members of his band. He went to the cabinet to get his guitar. The three of them had no room to practice at home. Mr. Cotton, the music teacher, had agreed to let them practice in a music room after school.
They had just changed the name of their group from The Cool Guys to Bad to the Bone. In the four months they’d been playing together, the band changed its name at least once a week. Bobby said they spent more time thinking up names than practicing.
Paul, the keyboard player, noodled impatiently on the keys, waiting for Bobby. Paul was broad shouldered and athletic, with dark skin and large brown eyes. He had a surprisingly light touch on the keyboard. He was the hardest-working member of the band and took practice much more seriously than Bobby or Arnie.
Arnie pounded the drums without much skill. The best thing anyone could say about Arnie’s drumming was that he kept a steady beat. Most of the time.
Arnie was in the band mainly because he was Bobby’s best friend. Arnie had short red hair, pale blue eyes, a goofy grin, and wore a small rhinestone stud in one ear. The line of pale blond fuzz on his upper lip, which he claimed was a mustache, only made him look sloppy.
Bobby plugged his guitar into the small amp. Then he turned up the volume until it squealed. He sat down on a folding chair in front of Arnie and Paul and started to tune each string.
Bobby loved his guitar. It was a white Fender Strat. “The kind Jimi Hendrix used,” he told everyone. Arnie once said that Bobby loved his guitar almost as much as he loved himself.
Bobby had reacted defensively. “Hey, man,” he shouted, “why shouldn’t I love myself? I’m all I’ve got!”
“Very deep,” Paul had muttered. “Bobby is sooo deep.”
Bobby finished tuning. He bent down and reached into his guitar case for a pick.
“Let’s get started,” Paul urged. “I’ve got to leave early to pick my mom up at work.”
“Where are my picks?” Bobby said, frowning. “I always leave them in the case. But—”
“Maybe you were picking your nose with them again,” Arnie suggested. He let out his high-pitched hyena giggle. No one else laughed. No one ever laughed at Arnie’s attempted jokes.
“Arnie, you’re about as funny as the dry heaves,” Bobby muttered, still searching for a pick.
Paul groaned. “Did you forget we’re playing at an actual club Friday night?” he demanded.
“Where were you last night?” Arnie asked Bobby, ignoring Paul’s question. “Did you go out with Kimmy?”
Bobby turned back to grin at him. “No. Ronnie.”
Arnie’s pale blue eyes went wide. “I thought you had a study date with Kimmy.”
“I did,” Bobby replied. “But Ronnie called, and—what can I tell you?” He shrugged. “I can’t be two places at once.”
Arnie laughed. “You’re bad. You’re really bad.”
“Kimmy will get over it,” Bobby said. He found a pick and ran it through the strings a few times.
“I’m surprised you didn’t go out with both of them at once,” Paul said dryly.
Bobby started to reply, but a movement at the door made him stop. “Hey!” he called out as two girls hesitantly entered the room.
He recognized the Wade twins at once. Everyone at Shadyside High knew Bree and Samantha Wade. The twins had moved to Shadyside the year before. They had quickly assumed the reputation as the most beautiful girls in the school.
Identical, they both had creamy smooth skin and straight black hair. Perfect hair that shone like in shampoo commercials. They had round green eyes, high cheekbones, and warm, natural smiles.
Bree was shy. She seldom spoke in class. Samantha was more outgoing and lively. The girls had friends, but no close friends. They went out on dates, but neither of them had steady boyfriends.
Strumming the guitar softly, Bobby stared at them as they entered. Bree lingered by the door. Samantha stepped into the center of the room. They were dressed in faded jeans and striped shirts.
They are cool! Bobby thought. Earlier in the year, he had thought about asking one of them out. But he just hadn’t gotten around to it.
“Is Mr. Cotton here? We’re looking for him,” Samantha said, her eyes on Bobby.
“No cotton her
e,” Arnie told them. “But I have some Q-Tips in my locker.”
No one laughed.
“We haven’t seen him,” Paul told them.
“He usually clears out when we start to play.” Bobby smiled.
Samantha smiled back. Bree had her hands jammed into her jeans pockets. “Maybe he’s in the teachers’ lounge,” she suggested to her sister.
The twins started to leave. “Hey—stay and listen!” Bobby called to them.
“We’ve got to find him,” Samantha replied.
Bobby studied them as they made their way back to the hall. Wow, what great bods! he thought.
“What do you want to play first?” Paul asked. He was tapping all his fingers on the edge of the keyboard.
“I want to play them!” Arnie declared, meaning the twins.
“They are hot!” Bobby agreed. “Did you see the way one of them was checking me out?”
“That’s because your fly is unzipped,” Arnie joked.
“I can’t tell them apart,” Paul offered. “Which one was Bree and which one was Samantha?”
“What difference does it make?” Bobby demanded. “They’re both totally hot!” He was silent for a moment. “Talk about dating two girls at once! What would it be like to go out with twins? Wow.”
Paul shook his head. “Bobby, even you wouldn’t do that.”
“Sure he would,” Arnie said enthusiastically.
“Sure I would,” Bobby murmured thoughtfully. “I’d go out with one on Friday and the other one on Saturday. And make them swear not to tell the other.”
“No way,” Paul insisted.
“Why shouldn’t I give each of them a break?” Bobby demanded, warming to the idea. “I mean, why not spread it around? Those two girls have been deprived for too long.”
“At least he isn’t conceited,” Paul muttered dryly.
Bobby spun around to face his two friends. “You don’t think I could do it?”
“I think they’d tell each other,” Paul replied. “And then they’d tell you to get lost.”
“Want to bet?” Bobby demanded heatedly.
Arnie twirled a drumstick in his fingers. He studied Bobby’s serious expression. “You really think you could date both Wade twins in one weekend?”
“No problem, guys,” Bobby boasted. “No problem at all.”
