Give Me a K-I-L-L, Page 3

  Gretchen followed her toward the front door. “Well … nice to meet you. I’ll see you in school and—”

  “Hey, want to come along?” Madison asked.

  Gretchen stopped walking. “Where are you going?”

  “To the department store. It will only take ten minutes.”

  “Well, actually, I need to buy some things,” Gretchen said. “I need tights. And some new workout clothes.” She tugged at the top of her shorts. “Look at this. The elastic is all stretched.”

  Madison picked up a set of car keys from the table in the front entryway. “So you’re coming?”

  “Let me get changed into some jeans, and I’ll be right back.”

  Gretchen ran full speed back to her house. Madison is really nice, she thought. Maybe I’ve made a new friend.

  She felt happy for the first time since arriving in Shadyside. She had no idea how much trouble a visit to a department store could cause.

  8.

  Madison played a classical music Pandora station as they drove to the Division Street Mall. “I like new music, too,” she said. “But this perfect for driving. It’s so quiet and calm.”

  Gretchen nodded. Her family didn’t listen to classical music. Gretchen seldom ventured from the top hits stations.

  At the far end of the mall, the department store loomed high over the other buildings. Madison parked and they entered from a side entrance, into the bargain basement department.

  Gretchen followed Madison onto an Up escalator, and they traveled to the first floor. Gretchen took a deep breath. The heavy perfumed air washed over her. The cosmetics department stretched as far as she could see, the floor brighter than daylight. Glass counters reflected the light. Videos played on big flatscreens. Women leaned on the counters or arranged the products, or chatted among each other, or sprayed passersby with perfumes and cologne scents.

  “We had a Sears and a Kmart,” Gretchen told Madison. “But nothing as big as this. Or as modern. Or as crowded.”

  Then she stopped and grabbed Madison’s arm when she recognized a girl behind a makeup counter. “Hey—!” A cry escaped her throat. She stared at Devra Dalby.

  “Madison, what’s she doing here?” Gretchen asked.

  Madison followed her gaze. “You mean Devra? What’s she doing here? You’re joking, right? This is her store. Her family owns all the Dalby stores.”

  Gretchen’s head was suddenly spinning. “I-I didn’t see the name when we came in,” she stammered.

  “Devra’s grandfather opened this store,” Madison continued. “Now there are like dozens of them all over. Devra is richer than anyone in Shadyside—and she acts it!”

  Devra didn’t see them. They both watched her disappear around the back of the counter. Gretchen breathed a long sigh. She knew Devra hated her, or at least, resented her. She didn’t want to have an encounter with her here in front of Madison.

  “I took her spot on the squad away,” Gretchen tried to explain to Madison. “I mean, Coach Walker gave it to her, then changed her mind. She’s letting us both try out, and only one of us will get the spot.”

  Madison did an exaggerated shudder. “Trouble,” she murmured. “I wouldn’t mess with Devra.”

  “You mean—”

  “I got into a fight with her on the playground in second grade,” Madison said. “She was a beast. She grabbed my hair and wouldn’t let go. The teacher couldn’t even pry her hands off me. She’s relentless. I mean, she’s psycho. And you know what? She hasn’t spoken to me since. Do you believe that? The fight was in second grade, and she still holds a grudge.”

  “Wow.” Gretchen shook her head. “Wow.” A thousand frightening thoughts flashed through her mind. “Madison, you don’t really think she’s dangerous, do you?”

  Madison shrugged. Gretchen couldn’t read her expression. Madison suddenly seemed to be far away. “I’ll meet you downstairs where we came in,” she said, starting down the aisle. “Half an hour?”

  Gretchen nodded. She watched her new friend walk past the cosmetics counters toward the back of the store. Then she gazed around quickly, looking for Devra, glad she wasn’t there.

  A few minutes later, she was checking out workout tights in a large athletic-wear department on the second floor. The shelves of running shoes and sneakers covered one wall from floor to ceiling. An old Rolling Stones song blared from hidden ceiling speakers. People in the crowded aisle seemed to move in rhythm with the music.

  Beat. Beat. Beat.

  Gretchen spotted another display of tights near the far wall. She squeezed past a young couple with a baby stroller, turned toward the display—and bumped hard into a boy.

  They both stumbled, off-balance. He grabbed her by the arms and steadied her. And she recognized Sid Viviano. Stacy’s boyfriend. Sid from school. Sid the cheerleader equipment manager. Holding her by the arms, a broad smile on his handsome face.

  Did he bump into me deliberately?

  “Hey,” he said. “That was like a head-on collision. Are you okay?”

  Gretchen felt her face growing hot. She eased her arms free of his grip. “Yeah. Fine. Hi. How’s it going?”

  “Not bad.” His grin didn’t fade. His eyes locked on hers. He appeared to be studying her intently, like trying to dig into her brain.

  “What are you doing here?” Gretchen blurted out.

  “Ha. Stalking you.”

  “No. Really.”

  He pointed. “There were these awesome new Air Jordans. I thought I’d check them out. But … you have to be a millionaire. No way I could afford them.”

  “I … I’m just getting some workout stuff,” Gretchen said. “This store is so big. Back home, we—” She stopped. His stare was starting to make her feel uncomfortable. “Sid, why are you staring at me like that?”

  His smile finally faded. His eyes flashed. “That day I met you…” he started. “In the hall outside the gym, remember? I … I kind of felt there was something between us.” He grabbed her arms again. “Did you feel it, too?”

  Gretchen tried to back away. This is too intense. But there was something so attractive about him. A kind of power. An aura that drew her to him like an invisible magnet.

  And now he was pushing her against the display table, tightening his arms around her.

  “Sid—no. I don’t think—”

  She started to protest. But now she was kissing him back. He was holding her, pressing her against the table … kissing her, his lips hard against hers.

  And as they kissed, her eyes traveled to the mirror on the floor. She gazed into the reflection—and saw Devra Dalby watching … watching them … her features twisted in an ugly scowl.

  9.

  Lefty’s, the Home of the Two-Dollar Double Cheeseburger, was conveniently located across from Shadyside High and instantly became a popular hangout. Madison had a seven o’clock violin lesson on Tuesday nights, so Gretchen met her there a little before six for an early dinner.

  Madison slid into the red vinyl booth at the back wall of the restaurant and carefully tucked her violin case beside her. She gave her head a hard shake, sending her curly hair into place around her head.

  Gretchen shivered and tugged down the sleeves of her sweater. The weather had turned cool but, for some reason, Lefty’s still had its air conditioner going.

  The waitress said hello and set down the yellow-and-red menus. The menus were short. There were few choices other than cheeseburgers.

  “How’s it going, Rachel?” Madison asked the waitress. “Gretchen, do you know Rachel Martin? She’s a senior.”

  Gretchen and Rachel exchanged hellos.

  “Tuesdays are quiet,” Rachel told Madison, motioning around the restaurant. “That’s good and bad. I don’t have to work so hard, but the tips are really lame.”

  Madison tsk-tsked. “What’s the special tonight?”

  “Cheeseburgers.”

  All three of the girls laughed. Rachel seems nice, Gretchen thought, turning back to Madison.
She had a question she was eager to ask her.

  But Madison started talking first, chattering on in her rapid-fire way. “I’m totally tense. I didn’t sleep last night.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t think I mentioned it, but my mom is on the school board. She arranged for a very famous string quartet to come play for an assembly at school.”

  “Nice,” Gretchen said.

  Madison frowned. “Let me finish. Mom also arranged for them to let me sit in with them onstage for one of the pieces. That would make me nervous enough. But it’s a Bach piece I just started to learn.” Madison shook her shoulders. “I’m shaking just talking about it now. Seriously.”

  Gretchen patted Madison’s hand. “No worries. You’ll be great.”

  “How do you know that?” Madison snapped.

  “I don’t,” Gretchen replied. “I didn’t know what else to say. I was trying to be nice. Maybe you’ll suck in front of the whole school.”

  That made Madison laugh. “You’re funny.” She shifted the violin case beside her. “My violin teacher is going to give me some hints on how to learn the piece. But I need more than hints. I need faster fingers and a faster brain.”

  “I was at my cousin Marty’s house a few years ago,” Gretchen said, “and he made me watch this horror movie about a violin player. The musician had his hand chopped off, and the hand continued to play the violin on its own.”

  Madison narrowed her eyes at Gretchen. “And you’re suggesting…?”

  They both laughed.

  Rachel Martin returned and set down the cheeseburgers and fries they had ordered. “Do you need mustard or mayo or anything?”

  Both girls said no.

  Rachel lingered, her eyes on Gretchen. “I hear you made a new friend your first week in school.”

  Gretchen squinted at her. “Excuse me?”

  A thin smile crossed Rachel’s face. “Devra Dalby?”

  “You’re being sarcastic?” Gretchen said.

  Rachel nodded. “Yes. I’m being sarcastic. Devra was talking about you at lunch yesterday. I don’t think she’s a fan.” She leaned toward Gretchen. “What did you do to tick her off?”

  “Showed up,” Gretchen said.

  Lefty rang the bell at the kitchen window. Rachel hurried away. She had more cheeseburgers to deliver.

  Gretchen lifted the top half of the bun and dabbed some ketchup on her cheeseburger. “I want to ask you something about Devra,” she told Madison.

  Madison snickered. “I’m not exactly a Devra expert, you know. I told you, we don’t speak to one another.” She cut her cheeseburger in half and lifted one of the halves in both hands.

  “Did Devra ever go out with Sid?” Gretchen asked.

  Madison lowered the cheeseburger to the plate. “Huh?”

  “Did she ever have a thing about Sid? Do you know if they ever went out together?”

  “It’s possible.” Madison took a bite of the cheeseburger and chewed for a while, looking thoughtful. “Sid has had a lot of girlfriends. He’s a definite chick magnet.” She giggled. “I read that phrase in a really bad romance novel.”

  “But before Stacy—?” Gretchen started.

  “I don’t think he and Devra were ever a thing. And now he and Stacy are like the perfect couple. At least, they seem to think so.”

  Both girls concentrated on their food for a while. Then Madison asked, “Why did you ask me about Devra and Sid?”

  Gretchen wiped grease off her chin with a napkin. “I saw her a couple of times, and when Sid was around, she got this unhappy look on her face. I mean, he was kissing Stacy in the gym, and Devra just stopped and scowled at them.”

  “Weird,” Madison murmured. She glanced at her phone. “Oh, wow. I’m going to be late.” She grabbed the violin case and started to slide out of the booth. “Can you get this?”

  “Sure, I’ll pay,” Gretchen said.

  “My treat next time.”

  “Talk to you later?”

  “If I survive Bach!” Madison called. Then she was out the door.

  Gretchen gazed after her. The restaurant became a bright blur. Loud voices and clinking plates and shouts from the kitchen and the slam of the door. She couldn’t get Devra out of her mind. She kept seeing all these vague images of Devra’s cold, unhappy face. Like a swirling nightmare, only Gretchen was awake.

  And when Devra actually slid into the booth across from her, Gretchen nearly screamed.

  10.

  “Oh. Sorry,” Devra said. “Did I scare you?”

  “No. I … uh … was daydreaming,” Gretchen managed to say.

  Gretchen stared at the necklace that swung down from Devra’s throat, large jewel-like blue beads, a little darker than the blue designer top she wore. Her red hair was pulled back in a single braid. Gretchen couldn’t help but notice how creamy and perfect her skin was under the harsh ceiling lights.

  Devra’s thin smile revealed that startling Gretchen had pleased her.

  Gretchen lowered her eyes to Devra’s hand. Two of her fingers were heavily wrapped in bandages. “What happened to your hand?” she asked.

  Devra held it up. “Acid burns. Believe it?”

  Gretchen blinked. “Excuse me? Acid? How—?”

  Devra lowered the hand to her lap. She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know where I get these crazy ideas. There’s an antique cabinet my dad loves. It was painted badly, and the paint is cracking. I decided to refinish it for him. For his birthday. I’m going to surprise him with it.”

  “And the acid?” Gretchen said.

  “I’m using this kind of acid to remove the old paint. They showed me how to use it at the home crafts store. But I had trouble opening the bottle and…” She raised the hand again. “It burned so bad. Do you believe our housekeeper had to drive me to the emergency room?”

  “Whoa. That’s horrible,” Gretchen said.

  Devra rolled her eyes again. “Dad will love the cabinet.… If he ever sees it. He’s away a lot.”

  What does she want? Gretchen wondered. She didn’t sit down to discuss her cabinet. Or her father. Is she going to ask me about kissing Sid in the department store?

  “I want to talk to you,” Devra said, burying the bandaged hand in her lap. “You’re just a junior, right?”

  Gretchen nodded. “Yeah.” She gazed down at her half-uneaten cheeseburger. Her stomach was twisted in knots now. She knew she’d never finish it.

  “Well, I’m a senior,” Devra said. “This is my last chance, you know?”

  Gretchen squinted at her. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, this is my last chance to make the cheerleading squad. Because I’ll be gone next year.”

  Gretchen nodded. She realized she had her suddenly icy hands clasped tightly in her lap. “So?”

  Devra leaned across the table. “So maybe we can make a deal.” When Gretchen didn’t respond to that, Devra continued. “I don’t know if you’re any good or not. I guess Coach Walker thought you were good enough to compete with me. But—”

  “Can I get you anything else?” Rachel Martin reappeared at the table.

  “You could try not interrupting people,” Devra snapped.

  Rachel blushed. “Sorry. I—”

  “Just the check, please,” Gretchen said.

  Devra waited for Rachel to leave. “All I’m saying is, let me win the tryout tomorrow. You’ll be an alternate. Chances are, you’ll get to fill in for somebody. You’ll be with the squad the whole year. Then I’ll graduate and go happily away. And it’ll be all yours.”

  Gretchen suddenly realized that her mouth had dropped open. She was staring at Devra in disbelief. Devra’s words kept repeating in Gretchen’s mind. She just couldn’t get her head around what Devra was asking her.

  Deliberately blow the tryout?

  “I … don’t … think … so,” she managed to say.

  Devra let out a whoosh of air. She couldn’t hide her frustration. Gretchen saw that she wasn’t
used to people saying no to her.

  “Devra, I can’t fail on purpose tomorrow,” she said softly, clasping her hands together even more tightly. “Coach Walker saw my highlight reel. She saw what I can do. If I suddenly turned into a klutz…”

  Devra’s eyes flashed angrily. “What would it take to change your mind? How about a five-hundred-dollar credit at Dalby’s?”

  Gretchen gasped. “Are you actually bribing me?”

  “Think of the outfits you could buy, Gretchen. You could upgrade your whole wardrobe. You wouldn’t have to wear those Old Navy rejects.”

  “That’s disgusting!” Gretchen cried. “Do you really think you can get anything you want by paying people? By using your family’s store to—”

  “How about a thousand-dollar store credit?” Devra interrupted. “Just stop and think about it.”

  “No way.” Gretchen realized her whole body was trembling, trembling in anger. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she said. “I can’t believe you would stoop so low. How can it be so important to you, Devra?”

  “I need it for college,” Devra replied through gritted teeth. Her cheeks were bright pink. Her features were tight with anger. “Listen to me—”

  “No. I’m going to try my hardest at the tryout,” Gretchen insisted. “And if I’m better than you—”

  Devra leaned close and practically spit her next words in Gretchen’s ear. “You wouldn’t want Stacy to know about that little love scene you had at the store with her boyfriend—would you?”

  Gretchen pulled her head back. She crossed her arms in front of her, as if shielding herself. “No way. No way. No way. I won’t do it.” Her heart was pounding so hard, she felt dizzy.

  Devra didn’t reply. She just nodded. She slid out of the booth and glared down at Gretchen. “You’ll regret this. I promise.”

  “Good luck at the tryout,” Gretchen said.

  Devra sneered at her. “Break a leg.”

  11.

  Home alone. Gretchen slumped back on the soft leather of the living room couch and listened to the rattle of a tree branch against the front window. Her mom knew the front yard trees had to be cut back. The limbs had grown dangerously close to the house. But that problem wasn’t at the top of her list.