The Wrong Girl (Return to Fear Street Book 2)
The Wrong Girl: Part 3 – Chapter 33

A week went by, and how did I feel? Sad. Lonely without my friends. Still angry. Still ferociously angry. The anger burned in my chest. I couldn’t make it cool down.

Every time I saw Ivy in school, she avoided my eyes and her face turned red. I passed Jeremy in the hall several times, and each time he pretended he didn’t know me. As if he was the injured party. How ridiculous. And Manny . . . Manny kept wanting to talk, but I pushed the big idiot away.

I thought a lot about getting back at all of them, humiliating them in the same way they’d humiliated me. Punishing them for betraying me. Cruel ideas flashed through my mind, but none of them were good enough.

I knew I’d have to calm down before I could think clearly about it. Once my mind was more settled, I knew I could think of the perfect way to get my revenge.

On Wednesday afternoon, I saw Rose and Jack in the student parking lot behind the school. He had her pinned against the side of a car. Their arms were wrapped around each other and they were locked in a long, passionate kiss. I guess they didn’t care who watched them. Or maybe they were showing off.

I turned and stomped away in the other direction, my heart bumping and thumping, my hands clamped into tight fists. I knew I couldn’t live with this anger for long. I had to do something to force it away. I had to do something.

I spent a lonely weekend. At least having no friends gave me a chance to catch up on my homework. And I read a pretty good book about a girl with low self-esteem who wants to be with the most popular guy in school but can’t replace a way to get to him.

Well . . . that’s not my problem. I don’t have esteem issues. I just kept wanting the girl in the novel to shape up and go talk to the boy she had a crush on.

Heather came into my room on Sunday afternoon. I was painting my toenails. The most awesome blue color I’ve ever seen. So awesome I wanted to go barefoot everywhere.

She was in her tennis whites. The short, pleated skirt made her legs look fat. She swung a tennis racket in front of her. “Want to play? We could get a court at Shadyside Park.”

I sighed. “I don’t think so.”

Behind her glasses, her eyes went wide. “Why not? You’re not doing anything else.”

“I just don’t feel like it,” I said. “Besides, why do you want to play with me? I beat you every single game.”

She spun the racket in her hands. “Just thought we could spend some time together. You know?”

“Well, sorry, but no thanks,” I said. Then I added, “Why aren’t you spending time with your new best friend, Rose Groban?”

Heather scowled. “Rose has no time for me. She’s with Jack all the time now. It’s like they’re glued together.”

I guess she’d gotten tired of Heather even more quickly than I’d thought.

Heather shook her head. “I wanted to tag along with them to the movie theater at the mall last night, and Rose practically told me to get lost. I don’t get it. A few days ago, we were friends.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I’ve got my own problems.”

“Sure you don’t want to play? Just one set?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied, and I returned to brushing color on my toenails.

She turned and stomped out of the room, muttering to herself.

So, Heather was hurt. But I couldn’t feel sorry for her. I had my own issues. Besides, Heather had only wanted to get close to Rose to make me angry. She knew that Rose was my enemy. So how could I feel sympathetic now that Rose had dumped her?

So . . . that was the weekend. The highlight was painting my toenails. And now it’s Monday after school and I’m at my new job. Yes, Mom made me get a new job. She wouldn’t get out of my face about the disaster at Lefty’s. She said I had to show that I was responsible.

So I’m sitting in this cramped, cluttered office, sitting here behind a gray metal desk with a three-line phone system, a laptop computer, and a special radio unit; I’m a taxi dispatcher.

The red-white-and-blue sign on the wall behind me says ALL-AMERICAN TAXI, and it’s shaped like a steering wheel, and there are plaques on all four walls. I guess they are awards the taxi company won from someone. I haven’t had time to really examine them.

My uncle David got me this job. And Mom says that makes it double-important that I don’t mess it up. Because we don’t want to embarrass Uncle David.

I won’t mess it up. It’s an easy job, much easier than being a waitress. I just answer the phone, then radio the drivers and give them the address of their pickup.

It’s mostly quiet. People don’t use taxis much in Shadyside. So I can put in my earbuds and listen to music and do my homework and read.

And . . . think of revenge.

Keith called that night, my first day on the job. I hesitated, staring at his name on my phone screen. I hadn’t heard from him or seen him in school for days. Actually, I’d forgotten about Keith, just swept him from my mind.

I accepted the call. “Keith? Hi.”

“Just calling to say hi,” he said. “How’s the new job?”

“You heard about it?”

“Yeah. I ran into Heather. She told me you were a taxi mogul now.”

I laughed. “A mogul? At ten dollars an hour?”

“So, Poppy, how’s it going?”

“All right,” I said. “It’s a boring job, but it’s easy.”

“I meant how’s it going otherwise?”

I took a breath. Did I really want to talk to Keith? I couldn’t decide. “Keith, why are you calling?”

“I heard about the store robbery joke. Ivy and Jeremy told me about it. It was really mean, Poppy. They feel terrible.”

“Yeah. Terrible,” I muttered sarcastically.

“The whole thing was crazy,” Keith said. “I . . . I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”

“Nice of you,” I said. I wanted to get off the phone. I knew what Keith wanted. He had his sincere voice on. And I knew what was coming.

“I wouldn’t have gone along with that,” he said. “I would have tried to stop them.”

“I know how careful you are,” I said. “I know you wouldn’t—”

“You don’t really know me,” he interrupted. “You don’t really know me at all.” Now there was a desperation in his voice. It was strange.

“I have to get off, Keith. I’m not allowed to have personal calls.”

“Okay. All right. I just wanted . . . I guess I wanted to say I miss you.”

Oh, wow. I didn’t want to hurt him. But I didn’t want to get back with him, either.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I said it kind of coldly so he’d get the message. “Gotta go. Catch you in school.”

“But, Poppy, listen. I—”

I clicked off. The taxi phone was ringing. I pictured Keith sitting somewhere, still holding his phone, his face crumpled into a hurt expression.

Maybe he’d finally get the idea this time. We were over.

The time went by slowly. There were a few calls for taxis, but mostly I sat there listening to music and reading Pride and Prejudice for English class.

My shift was over at nine. I switched on the automatic call unit, packed my phone and book into my backpack, and wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck. Yes, I even wear a silk scarf to my lonely little job. I just feel safer, more comfortable with a scarf on.

I headed to the taxi garage in back where I parked my car. It’s an indoor garage, dimly lit, low, concrete ceilings, kind of spooky, much bigger than it needs to be since the company has only seven taxis.

The sound of my shoes echoed against the stone walls as I walked to my car at the far end. I thought I saw a rat scamper under a parked taxi, a flash of gray. I started to walk faster.

Four taxis were parked in a line in the center spots. That meant three taxis were out on the job. I glimpsed the narrow driveway that led out of the garage.

I was halfway to my car when I heard a cough.

I stopped. And listened. My skin tingled.

I’m not alone.

Someone else is here.

“Who’s there?” My voice came out muffled from my sudden fear.

Silence. A ringing silence. No answer.

“Is someone back here?”

I heard a soft scraping sound. The sound of someone trying to walk quietly.

I squinted at the parked taxis. I didn’t see anyone. The air in the garage seemed to grow colder.

“Who’s there?” I called. “Answer me!”

The silence hung heavily in the air. I could hear someone breathing rapidly. Were they trying to scare me? They were doing a good job of it.

I turned to my car against the back wall. Could I make it there in time to get away?

I took a deep breath and started to run.

And a man stepped out of the shadows to block my path.

“You!” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”