Party Summer
R. L. STINE
POCKET BOOKS
1991 Parachute Press, Inc.
WHERE YOUR WORST NIGHTMARES LIVE…
FEAR STREET® by R.L. Stine
DON’T MISS THE EXCITEMENT AND TERROR OF EVERY NEW FEAR STREET NOVEL
THE NEW GIRL
THE SURPRISE PARTY
THE OVERNIGHT
MISSING
THE WRONG NUMBER
THE SLEEPWALKER
HAUNTED
HALLOWEEN PARTY
THE STEPSISTER
SKI WEEKEND
THE FIRE GAME
Fear Street Super Chiller: PARTY SUMMER
All Available from Archway Paperbacks Published by Pocket Books AND LIGHTS OUT COMING IN JULY ’91
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product 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
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
Copyright © 1991 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: 0-671-72920-9
ISBN 13: 978-0-671-72920-2
eISBN 978-1-439-12093-4
First Archway Paperback printing May 1991
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FEAR STREET is a trademark of Parachute Press, Inc.
AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster.
Cover art by Bill Schmidt
Printed in the U.S.A.
IL 6+
Party Summer
PART ONE
SUMMER PLANS
Chapter 1
A GHOSTLY PRESENCE
Sheets of rain thundered down onto the roof, a steady drumroll. The gusting wind forced a slender tree branch to click against the attic window, tap tap tap, like bony fingers trying to get in. Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed, its shrillness muffled by the heavy curtain of rain.
Jan closed her eyes and tried to shut out all sound.
No distractions, she thought, sweeping her black hair over her shoulder with a quick motion of her head.
Go away, world. Go away.
Eyes closed, her features tightened into an expression of intense concentration, she forced the sounds from her mind. The roar of the rain became a gentle hum and then disappeared completely. The wind slowed, then hushed. The siren vanished into the distance.
Go away, world. Go away.
On her knees on the attic floor, Jan was assaulted by a sour, musty smell—a mixture of mildew, old newspapers, dampness, and dust. It invaded her nose, caught in her throat.
I’ve got to shut out the smells too, she thought, holding her breath.
I’ve got to shut out everything, clear my mind, and concentrate….
Downstairs, the dog was barking. Excited, high-pitched yips.
Jan opened her large dark eyes, then rolled them in disgust. “Can’t they keep that mutt quiet?”
Foxy would be angry at me for calling him a mutt, she thought, a smile forcing its way across her serious face.
She waited for the dog to stop yipping, heard a door slam, heard the phone ring. Once. Twice.
Is anyone down there? Is anyone going to answer it?
The attic floor creaked. The rain continued to pound on the roof just above her head. She could hear the splash of water overflowing the gutter. Jan glanced back over her shoulder toward the attic steps.
Amazing how much you can hear, even with the attic door closed, she thought. Amazing how hard it is to shut out the world, even when you really try.
She turned back, squatting on her knees, and set her features, concentrating with renewed dedication. Leaning forward, she reached out and allowed her hand to trace the outlines of the pentacle she had drawn in white chalk on the wooden attic floorboards. First the five-pointed star. Then the circle around the star.
The wood felt warm beneath her fingers. She ran her hand along the circle again. Again.
The light from the window dimmed. She looked up at a green-gray sky, heavy and near. A ghostly sky, she thought.
A very promising sky.
The floor beneath her seemed to grow even warmer. She stared at the pea-soup sky until she felt absorbed by it, lost in it. Everything became a green-gray, shadowless blur.
Then she shut her eyes.
The roar of the rain began to fade.
The fingers ceased their tapping against the dusty windowpane.
Go away, world. Go away.
Jan concentrated hard, remembering the instructions she had read, all of the books she had practically memorized, remembering all of the accounts she had spent so many hours poring over, absorbing, studying until she was ready.
Ready for her own encounter.
Her hand continued to trace the chalked circle and star, slowly at first, then faster, until the floor burned her fingertips.
Faster, faster. The floor was heating up now. The circle, a chalky smear, seemed to raise up beneath her fingers.
Yes, yes.
The world was gone. The heavy, noisy world was far away.
The spirit world was moving closer.
Jan could feel it, feel it under her fingertips as they circled the floor, growing hot, hot, hotter until they weren’t part of her any longer. Until she wasn’t part of her own fingers. Until she wasn’t part of the world. Until she was no longer on her knees on the attic floor, no longer in her house. No longer anywhere.
The spirit was so close to her now.
The spirit she had summoned from the other side.
A chill ran down the length of her body, making her shudder.
Success. It was working.
She knew it was working.
She could feel the ghostly presence. She could feel it hovering over her, circling her like a dark, silent hawk.
She could feel its warmth now as it moved closer.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
She could definitely feel the presence, sense it without seeing it, feel that it was watching her, preparing to make contact.
The spirit was behind her now. She could feel the heat on her back, feel her dark hair tingle with electricity.
“I know you’re here,” Jan said, her voice a whisper, a tremor of sound. “I know you’re here.”
Silence.
Too excited to breathe, dizzy with the power she had summoned, Jan opened her eyes.
Slowly, expectantly, she turned her head.
“What are you doing here?” she cried.
Chapter 2
“YOU COULD GET HURT….”
Cari stood on the top attic step, her mouth hanging open in surprise and confusion. Eric laughed and slapped Craig’s hand in a high-five.
“What are you doing here?” Jan repeated angrily, scrambling up from her position on the floor, violently dusting off her jeans with both hands. She tossed back her black hair, her dark eyes flashing at her three friends.
Cari, Eric, and Craig made no attempt to move from the steps. At first Cari had been startled by the scene she and the two boys had found in the attic. And now she was startled by Jan’s angry reaction at being discovered.
“I didn’t know you were a witch,” Craig said, his expression blank, not revealing whether he was joking or not.
Eric laughed uncomfortably. “Of course we knew,” he jo
ked. “Couldn’t you tell from those pointy hats she always wears?”
“I thought those fit her head,” Craig replied, and the two of them burst out in loud laughter that echoed through the low, narrow attic.
“You’re not funny,” Jan said, and her expression turned from anger to hurt. “You had no business sneaking up here and … and spying on me.” Her voice trembled with emotion, and her eyes blinked as if holding back tears.
“I’m sorry,” Cari said, finally snapping out of her trance. “Really, Jan. We didn’t know. Your mom said you were up here.”
“That’s right,” Eric said quickly, tugging at his short ponytail. “We asked her if it was okay to come up, and she said yes.”
A burst of wind lashed the house. The attic window rattled, and the tree limb slammed against it hard.
Startled by the sound, all four teenagers looked to the window.
When Cari peered at Jan again, she saw that her friend had gotten herself together. “I … I didn’t hear you come up,” Jan said, pulling nervously at a strand of hair, curling it in a corkscrew around her finger.
“I don’t know how you missed us. Those stairs creak like crazy,” Craig said.
“Yeah. We made a lot of noise,” Cari added. She moved off the step and moved toward Jan, ducking her head under the low eaves.
“I was concentrating,” Jan said, glancing down at the smeared chalk pentacle on the floor and frowning.
“We won’t tell anyone you’ve gone crazy,” Eric said, grinning.
“I haven’t gone crazy,” Jan snapped, her anger returning. “It almost worked. It would’ve worked if you hadn’t—”
“What almost worked?” Cari asked, lowering herself onto the cushioned window seat in front of the rattling attic window and tucking her slender legs under her.
“Never mind,” Jan muttered.
“No. Really,” Cari insisted. “What were you doing?”
“You just want to laugh at me,” Jan said, crossing her arms over her chest and staring out at the rain.
“We won’t laugh. Promise,” Eric said, glancing at Craig.
“Promise,” Craig repeated obediently.
“I was summoning a ghost,” Jan told them.
Eric and Craig burst out laughing.
“Come on, guys!” Cari pleaded.
Jan ignored them and faced Cari. “So what are you three doing here anyway?”
“We came to tell you we can go,” Cari replied.
“To Piney Island?” Jan asked, her dark eyes glowing in the gray light from the window.
“Yeah,” Cari said. “Do you believe it? My parents actually agreed.”
“That’s great!” Jan cried excitedly, momentarily forgetting her anger. “My aunt Rose will be so happy. I’ll have to call and tell her right away.” She turned back to the two boys on the stairs. “But maybe you shouldn’t go.”
“Huh?” Craig asked.
“What do you mean?” Eric demanded, equally surprised.
“Well, those old New England inns are all haunted, you know,” Jan said.
“So?” Eric asked, leaning on Craig’s shoulder.
“We don’t believe in that stuff,” Craig said, grinning and staring down at the smeared remains of Jan’s pentacle on the floor.
“That’s what I mean,” Jan said, her expression almost threatening. “Ghosts in old inns usually have stories to tell. Violent stories. Bloody stories. And they don’t like to be laughed at.”
Her eyes burned into Eric’s as she said those words. He lowered his to stare at his shoes.
“You mean—” Craig started uncertainly.
“I mean you could get hurt,” Jan said heatedly. “If you laugh at them the way you laughed at me, you could get hurt.”
Cari shivered and jumped up from the window seat. Despite the steamy heat of the attic, something about Jan’s tone made Cari feel cold all over.
Chapter 3
EVEN THE BEST MADE PLANS …
Cari couldn’t believe the day had actually arrived.
It hadn’t been easy to get her parents to agree to let her go away for the summer. Mr. and Mrs. Taylor were overly protective of their daughter, at least that was what Cari believed.
“We just like to have you around,” her father said. “You brighten up the house.”
“Get real,” Cari replied, making a face.
He was always saying embarrassing things like that.
“Cari has eyes as blue as the ocean on a sunny day,” he would say. Or: “Cari’s hair is as soft and golden as spring sunlight.”
“Dad—give me a break!” she would scream.
Why does he say such stupid things? she wondered. For, despite the fact that she was as willowy and beautiful as any model on the cover of Sassy orSeventeen, Cari wasn’t terribly impressed with her looks.
I’m much too skinny, she sometimes thought. Or: My smile is crooked. Or: I’m so tired of wearing my hair straight back like this. I wish it wasn’t so fine.
When guys at school made a fuss over her, or when they acted especially shy around her, Cari never thought it was because of her looks. She always thought it was because guys just acted that way. Basically like jerks.
Even though she was sixteen, she had never had a boyfriend, hadn’t gone out on many dates without other kids around, had never even had a guy she was seriously interested in. A few crushes, that was all.
“The boys are afraid of you,” her father said, unable to suppress a proud smile. “You’re too beautiful.”
“What planet are you from?” Cari had cracked, making an ugly face. She really wished he’d stop making comments like that.
Jan is the beautiful one, Cari thought. Her best friend was dark and mysterious looking, with cascading curly black hair, sparkling olive eyes, high cheekbones, full, dramatic lips, and a womanly body that made Cari feel like a stick.
Next to Jan, I’m so pale, so washed-out, I almost disappear, Cari thought. She quickly finished brushing her hair and stepped away from the mirror. She straightened her peach-colored, long-sleeved T-shirt, brushed off her white tennis shorts, and was heading down the stairs when the front doorbell rang.
“They’re here!” Cari’s younger sister, Lauren, called.
“Where’s your suitcase?” Mr. Taylor shouted. He passed her on the stairway, acting almost frantic. “Are you packed? Are you ready?”
Cari laughed. “Yes. I’m ready. Isn’t anybody going to open the door?”
“Did you remember your toothbrush?” Her mother appeared at the bottom of the stairs, looking almost as frazzled as Mr. Taylor.
“The door!” Cari insisted. “Somebody open the door!”
She pushed past her father and beat her mother to the door; her sneakers squeaked on the tile floor as she pulled it open.
“Hi,” Jan said, giving Cari a look that said, “What’s going on in there?”
“You must be Jan’s Aunt Rose,” Cari said to the attractive, middle-aged woman next to Jan. She held the screen door open, and noticed that it was a bright, clear June day, so bright that even Fear Street looked summery and cheerful.
“Nice to finally meet you,” Rose said, stepping inside and shaking Cari’s hand vigorously. She was wearing white slacks and a white, short-sleeved cotton sweater, which emphasized how tan she was. She had dark, curly hair like Jan’s, only not as long.
“We’ve talked on the phone so much and Jan has told me so much about you, I feel I already know you,” Rose said pleasantly. Then she added, “I just didn’t know you were so beautiful!”
Cari felt herself start to blush. She didn’t have a chance to reply. Her father had gotten her suitcase and was dragging it into the hallway. The whole family was excitedly talking at once.
“Only one suitcase?” Jan asked Cari, surprised. “I brought a suitcase that big for my makeup!”
Cari didn’t laugh. Knowing Jan, that was probably not an exaggeration! Jan was wearing a chartreuse midriff top that really emphasized her fi
gure and skintight, white spandex bicycle shorts.
Well, Jan was never the most subtle person in the world, Cari thought. But that was what Cari liked most about her. She was bold. She didn’t hold back as Cari did.
Weeks before, when her aunt had first suggested that Jan and some friends go to work at Piney Island, Jan had immediately said what she thought the point of the summer would be—to meet great new guys and to party, party, party. “It’s going to be a party summer.” That was Jan’s phrase.
Then she invited Eric and Craig, her two oldest “boy” friends to come too, and the two guys picked up on her idea right away. “Party summer!” they repeated enthusiastically. Cari couldn’t help but notice that Eric was staring at her when he said it.
The phrase had repeated itself in Cari’s mind ever since.
Party summer …
And now she was actually leaving, after so many long arguments with her parents.
“Spend the summer working at a big New England resort hotel by yourself?” Mrs. Taylor had seemed absolutely shocked by the idea.
“I’ll go too,” Lauren had quickly volunteered. “Then she won’t be alone.”
“You keep out of it,” Mr. Taylor said sharply to Lauren.
“Uh-oh. Here we go again,” Cari said, frowning. “Family Argument Number 224 for the month!”
“You’re keeping count?” Cari’s mother cracked. “I didn’t know you could count that high.” She had the same wry sense of humor as Cari, which, naturally, drove Cari crazy.
“It’s not an argument. It’s a discussion,” Mr. Taylor insisted.
“But I don’t want to discuss it. I want to do it,” Cari said impatiently, her blue eyes flashing with anger.
“Me too!” Lauren declared.
“You weren’t invited,” Mrs. Taylor said quietly. She turned to Cari. “Sit down, will you? Or if you’re going to pace back and forth like that, carry a broom and sweep the floor. You know, make yourself useful.”