Pretty Little Devils

  The others nodded, Carolyn chuckling as if at a private joke.

  Sylvia held up a finger. “Rule number one?” She looked at the three PLDs.

  “PLD loyalty,” Ellen quickly replied. “Before guys and anyone else.”

  “That’s our most basic rule,” Sylvia said. She looked back at Hazel and leaned forward on her elbows. “Think about a herd of animals. Gazelles. Predators pick off the weak ones, the ones on the outside. The ones who stay close together survive.”

  “We’ve been through a lot,” Megan elaborated. “We’ve tried to have outside friends, and it just doesn’t work. We stick together, and it makes us solid.” The others nodded.

  “That means you’re free of those hangers-on,” Sylvia whispered, “from this point forward.”

  She didn’t need to explain. Hazel knew she was referring to Lakshmi, who was now seated a few feet away, pretending to read a gossip magazine.

  “The second rule is, you have to uphold the PLD standards,” Sylvia went on. “We have to look good, be united. Support each other. There are people who would like nothing better than to see us fall flat on our faces. Which is why we need to let each other know if we’re slipping.”

  She placed a hand on Ellen’s shoulder. Ellen’s cheeks colored.

  It was a harsh rule, Hazel knew, but it was true. Here at the top of the food chain, it was survival of the coolest.

  “Here’s some important info,” Sylvia explained, flipping toward the center of the notebook. “Basic info. Our phone numbers, birthdays, locker combinations, stuff like that.”

  “Locker combinations?” Hazel echoed, a little uneasy.

  “Sure. We leave things for each other,” Ellen replied. “Like, when one of us is down, we surprise her with a little something to cheer her up.”

  “Oh. Um, that’s nice.” Nice, Hazel thought, until the PLDs get you busted by vice principal Clancy.

  “Needless to say, you cannot lose this notebook,” Carolyn pointed out. “If you do, people who are jealous of us could use it against us.”

  “And while we’re on that subject,” Sylvia continued, “I know you had a class with Breona. She’s gone, but all her little friends are still around. You cannot speak to any of them under any circumstances, all right?” She gave Hazel a hard stare.

  “No problem,” Hazel said.

  “Good. Moving onward.” Sylvia turned a page to show an elaborate spreadsheet. Each of the PLDs’ names was printed there, in a column. Sylvia’s first, then Megan, Carolyn, Ellen, and Hazel. The days of the week headed the rows. Each day was divided into thirds, labeled AFTERNOON, EVENING, and NIGHT.

  “This is how we keep track of our sitting jobs,” Sylvia informed her. “I’m in charge. The parents call me to set up appointments, and I distribute these sheets every week. You’re going to take the Darlings tonight. I already arranged it with Cynthia, their mom.”

  “Oh. Um, isn’t that kind of short notice?” Hazel pointed out. Last night, she had barely made a dent in her homework, despite staying up till one-thirty working on it. She was still behind in her reading for econ, and she’d planned on catching up tonight.

  Sylvia frowned. Hazel saw a flash of displeasure in her eyes. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

  “No, no,” Hazel covered. “I just…I need to make sure it’s all right with my parents.”

  “Well, it has to be,” Sylvia said pleasantly. “I already set it up. Okay, the details. The Darlings are twins.”

  “And not exactly ‘darlings.’” Megan snickered. “You’ll need the squeezy brain.”

  Sylvia gave her a cold look. Megan lost her smirk and said, “You’ll be fine.”

  “We turn in our books once a week,” Sylvia said. “On Mondays. I keep track of the sitting jobs and the pay. We usually just pool the money, but sometimes there are exceptions.”

  “Plus, there are fines,” Ellen said.

  “Fines?”

  Sylvia nodded. “Of course. Like, if you show up late for a sitting job or whatever. All of us shouldn’t suffer because one person acts irresponsibly.”

  Hazel took that in. “Well, I’ll really do my best. I’m just—I’m grateful that you guys invited me.”

  “You seemed like PLD material,” Sylvia said. “We think you’re really going to work out.”

  “Um…there’s one other issue,” Megan broke in. “Do you like scary movies? Because they’re kind of our thing.”

  “We started out renting them when we babysat. Now we play them at all our parties. It helps everyone…get a little closer,” Sylvia explained.

  “Oh. Sure,” Hazel replied. “I’m totally obsessed with all the Friday the 13th movies. They’re cheesy, but I love them.”

  “Yeah,” Carolyn added, “the night we rented Halloween, like, six people paired up. That’s when we knew we were on to something.”

  Hazel nodded. “I guess everyone likes being terrorized.”

  “Oh, you won’t when you meet the Darling twins.” Sylvia laughed. “You need to be there at seven. Sharp.”

  PERSONALBLOG

  HAPPY 2BME

  HAZE’S GOT DARLING DUTY 2NITE. SHE’S IN FOR THE FRIGHT OF HER LIFE. POOR HAZEL. SO SWEET, BUT IT’S ALL GOING TO GO SOUR. COME OUT, COME OUT, HZL. IT’S TIME TO PLAY.

  Avenida Escondida—Hidden Avenue—divided Brookhaven into two sections, east and west. The west side of town was the ritzy part. The Darlings lived on a hill overlooking the ritzy part. Meaning they were even richer than the rich people.

  Their house was a mansion. The floors were hardwood, and all the furniture was cutting-edge modern: everything was done in bold, bright, jarring colors. There were paintings on the walls that were taller than Hazel, all of them abstract—people with blank cube faces or swirly, desolate landscapes…. They creeped her out.

  If Hazel was honest, the entire house creeped her out. The twins lived there with their mother, who was divorced, but the place was too big for just three people. It had an empty, isolated feeling. When Hazel walked on the wooden floors, her footsteps echoed hollowly back to her.

  The front of the house was nothing but glass, and tonight fog had crept up the hill, slithering over the vast, manicured lawn.

  A scene right out of one of the PLDs’ horror movies, Hazel thought.

  As soon as Hazel arrived, the twins had told her how much they loved playing “ghost in the graveyard,” a game that required turning out all the lights in the house and then searching for each other in the dark.

  Hazel was hiding, crouched behind the home entertainment system, nearly pressed up against the wall of glass. While she waited to be discovered, she watched the swirling fog and concentrated on keeping perfectly still.

  “Where are you?” Katie Darling called in a spooky voice. Her flashlight moved across the window. Hazel watched as the silhouette of a gnarled tree caught in Katie’s light. It waved in the wind like a skeletal hand—its bony fingers reaching out for her.

  The light moved away and Hazel’s hiding spot fell back into shadow. She sighed. Should she make it easier for them to find her? At least then the game would be over.

  She glanced at her watch. It was only eight, and she was dragging. Nine was the twins’ official bedtime. She had tried to get them to put on their pajamas and brush their teeth, but they’d refused. That was when all the lights-out games started. It seemed like everything they wanted to do was in the dark.

  Pain shot through Hazel’s calf. Her muscles were beginning to cramp, and she was getting sleepy.

  That’s it. Time to call it quits.

  “Katie?” Hazel called softly. “Chrissie?”

  There was no answer. No sound at all.

  Gingerly she rose, half expecting one or both of them to jump out and spook her. She tiptoed through the cavern of a living room toward the hall that led into their bedroom.

  She hesitated, then fumbled for the hall light. She heard a noise and moved her hand a little faster, searching for the switch.

  A foot
step sounded at the other end of the hall.

  “Okay, I know where you are,” she announced.

  She found the switch and flicked it on. She glimpsed one of the small, dark-haired girls, standing in a white nightgown in front of a closed door.

  Click. The hall light flicked out again.

  “You guys,” she said, trying to sound bored. “Stop playing with the light switches.”

  The girl at the end of the hall turned on a flashlight beneath her chin so that her features were illuminated from below. Her mouth hung slack and her eyes were glazed.

  “I’m dead,” she murmured.

  There was a swishing sound behind Hazel.

  She turned to find the other twin in the same pose, her face slack, in the middle of the living room. “I’m dead,” she repeated. “I’m a ghost.”

  The girls shambled slowly toward Hazel, looking for all the world like clones of that evil spirit from The Ring. Cold, relentless, evil.

  Hazel had no idea why it freaked her out. She fought to keep from becoming unnerved.

  “Girls, it’s time to get your ghost selves into bed,” she said bravely. She turned the light back on. Immediately, it clicked off again.

  “I’m dead,” one of the twins moaned. “I’m dead and I’m coming for you.”

  “Oh yeah?” Hazel challenged. She headed toward her, taking bold, long strides. She was halfway down the hall when the girl shone her flashlight in Hazel’s eyes and then flicked it off, leaving her seeing spots.

  When Hazel reached the end of the hall, the twin was gone.

  “I’m dead,” she moaned from the living room. “You killed me.”

  Hazel followed the voice.

  “Katie, Chrissie, this isn’t funny,” she called.

  Then she looked toward the wall of glass and caught her breath.

  A tall, hooded figure stood outside the house.

  Hazel stared at the silent figure. Slowly, slowly, it lifted its head.

  It raised its hand and pointed at Hazel.

  She shrieked. The person was wearing a hockey mask, and he was carrying a long, silver knife.

  “Chrissie! Katie!” Hazel screamed. “Come to me! Now!”

  Behind her, voices chorused, “Surprise!” as all the lights blazed on.

  Hazel whirled around. Megan, Carolyn, and Ellen were standing in the doorway with the Darling twins. Megan was doubled over with laughter. Carolyn applauded as the twins took bows.

  Hazel struggled to catch her breath. Ellen came to her and threw her arms around her. “Aw, it’s all right. It’s a prank, Haze! Just a prank.”

  Megan clapped. “We got you good!”

  The front door opened. Sylvia came across the threshold, the hood of her sweatshirt thrown back, the hockey mask in her hand.

  She rushed toward Hazel, her arms open.

  “Ah, ma petite!” she said, kissing her cheek with a noisy smack.

  She wiggled the knife. The blade wobbled, clearly a prop.

  “Friday the 13th.” Sylvia winked. “Your favorite.”

  Hazel laughed, embarrassed and weak from relief. “You guys! That was twisted. I was really scared!”

  “Then our work here is done,” Megan said, high-fiving Carolyn.

  Sylvia handed Ellen the mask. She let go of Hazel and went to the twins, bending over and tousling their hair. “Hey, monsters. Good job.” She looked over her shoulder at Hazel. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Oscars are in their future,” Hazel affirmed.

  Katie and Chrissie lifted their chins proudly.

  “You two are just awful,” Sylvia said affectionately.

  “We’re dead,” one of them said.

  “Were they giving you a hard time?” Sylvia asked.

  “Oh no,” Hazel managed, flashing Sylvia a weak smile. “Aside from the whole ‘scare the babysitter into a coma’ project, everything’s been fine.”

  Sylvia chuckled and took Hazel’s arm. “Note to self? You suck at lying. C’mon. We’ll make you something to take the sting out of sitting these little monsters.”

  “We are not monsters!” one of them insisted as they trailed after Sylvia. “We’re dead!”

  The seven of them walked into the kitchen, which was a small city of brushed stainless steel. Sylvia opened the freezer, fished around inside, and brought out a bottle. Grey Goose vodka.

  “Grab some martini glasses, won’t you?” she asked Hazel. She pointed to a cabinet shimmering with glassware. “In there.”

  Hazel took a moment, then selected a large Y-shaped glass and held it up for Sylvia’s inspection. Sylvia laughed. “Wow! You must be thirsty. We need five. Katie, get the vermouth. Chrissie, get the olives.”

  Megan, Carolyn, and Ellen took seats at the slate table in the breakfast nook. Hazel followed.

  Sylvia poured vodka nearly to the rim of each glass. Seeing Hazel’s surprise, she chuckled and splashed in a little more. “Relax. It’s fine.”

  The girls returned with another bottle and the olives. Sylvia finished making the drinks and passed them around. Hazel was about to take a sip when Sylvia held her glass aloft.

  “To Haze, everyone! A good sport and a great victim. Ellen? The traditional PLD toast?”

  Ellen smirked. “To damnation!” she said in a clear, ringing voice.

  “To damnation!” the others echoed. They clinked glasses.

  Then Sylvia turned to Katie and Chrissie. “Okay, I’m throwing you in bed. Hazel, take a load off. The cavalry, she is here.”

  Hazel smiled gratefully but didn’t want Sylvia to think she couldn’t handle her first job. “It’s okay,” she told Sylvia. “I want to do it.”

  “About the bad lying?” Sylvia scolded. “You haven’t gotten any better in the last thirty seconds.”

  The other PLDs giggled. Sylvia carried her drink as she herded the two girls toward their bedroom.

  “Teeth and faces.” Sylvia’s voice trailed down the hall.

  “We can’t brush our teeth,” Katie announced. “We’re dead.”

  “You’ll wish you were dead if you don’t brush them, mes petites. Now, come on. You don’t want to make Sylvia mad, do you?”

  Chrissie and Katie squealed as if equal parts thrilled and terrified by the idea. Hazel sipped her drink—Yow! It’s all vodka! She listened to the rushing water and the girls giggling in the bathroom.

  “Told you you’d need the squeezy brain,” Megan teased.

  “You were right.” Hazel took another, tinier sip. “I just didn’t realize how right you were.”

  “I’m sorry if we scared you, Haze. It was kind of mean,” Ellen apologized.

  “Dude, don’t be such a wuss,” Megan said. “It was a good prank.”

  “We started pranking in middle school,” Carolyn explained. “Around the same time we got into horror movies. You know, long nights sitting, nothing to do but watch TV or do homework…. I think Sylvia did the first one.”

  “On me,” Ellen said. “She started knocking on all the windows.”

  “We used to have séances, too,” Megan said. “Remember that? They were kind of dorky, but we believed in them.”

  “I never did,” Ellen insisted.

  “Yeah, right.” Carolyn snorted. “You used to cry.”

  Ellen frowned, embarrassed. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I gotta go,” she announced. “My dad…” She made a fist and breathed into it. “Who’s got the breath mints?”

  “I’ve got some in my purse,” Megan offered. “Out in the living room. And actually, I should go too.”

  “Me too,” Carolyn added.

  They took their half-full martini glasses to the counter, dumped them out, rinsed and dried them, and put them back in their places.

  “Well, your first job is almost over,” Ellen said, smiling at Hazel. “You did great.”

  “Yeah.” Megan slapped her on the back. “You definitely had a squishy-brain moment.” She knocked on Hazel’s head. “Huh, I think it’s still in there.”


  Carolyn gave her a little hug.

  Carrying her drink with her, Hazel followed them into the living room.

  Sylvia emerged from the girls’ rooms a moment later. “Okay, I ran the chain saw. They won’t be bothering you anymore.” She took Hazel’s glass and measured how much was left. “You might want to dump this out now,” she suggested. “It’s important not to be too drunk when Cynthia comes home.”

  “Damn. I had such plans,” Hazel quipped.

  Sylvia made a check mark in the air. “Third initiation item: sitting job and near-stroke-inducing prank. You’re almost done!”

  “What’s left?” Hazel asked, emboldened by her success…and the vodka.

  “Wait and see,” Sylvia teased.

  “Okay. As long as no animals are harmed in the fulfilling of the item,” Hazel said.

  The four giggled appreciatively. They gathered their jackets and purses and filed out the front door. Hazel waved as they got in their cars.

  She shut the door and leaned against it, taking another hefty swallow of her martini. Then she carried it into the kitchen to dump.

  I’m so on top of this, she thought. I was born to be a PLD.

  PERSONALBLOG

  HAPPY 2BME

  HAZEL, DO YOU LIKE YOUR NEW FRIENDS? DO YOU LIKE SURPRISES? YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S COMING. NONE OF THEM DO. I’M JUST GETTING STARTED—GEARING UP FOR THE REAL THING. YOU’LL SEE WHAT BEING A POPULAR GIRL MEANS…. SOMETIMES, IT MEANS YOU HAVE TO DIE.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Hazel was truly blessed.

  Her econ teacher was out sick. Her AP chem teacher lectured too long and told everyone to turn in their homework the next day. Every assignment she had blown off yesterday, she’d gotten a lucky break on today. Thank goodness.

  Ten minutes till my next class, she thought as she sprinted down the hall. Just enough time for a stop at my locker.

  She spun her combination, opened the door—and cried out in surprise.

  A huge spider hung inside the locker. It dangled from a web stretched across the opening.

  Hazel took a deep breath and looked more closely. It’s a fake spider, she realized, courtesy of the PLDs.

  A drawing was stuck in the center of the spider’s web. It looked like a skull and crossbones, only this was a hockey mask with two chain saws crossed beneath it. WE PRANKED HAZEL! was written in jagged letters above the mask.