Midnight Games by R.L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page B

his face. But I immediately regretted it.
    What did he mean, I was interesting ?
    Was Nate interested in me ? Or was he interested because he thought I could tell him stories about the Fear family?
    I had to talk to Jamie.
    I needed advice on what to do about Ada. And I needed advice about Nate.
    My first day at Shadyside High, and already I felt in the middle of something. Maybe Nate was someone I could really be into. Maybe he was someone I could trust, someone to rely on.
    Or was he someone I should stay away from?
    Jamie would tell me.
    I hurried home. The sun had already lowered behind the trees. I hate winter. I hate when it gets dark so early.
    I looked for Jamie in her room. I saw her backpack and her bag tossed on the floor by her bed, so I knew she was home. But no sign of her.
    Jamie’s mom—my aunt Audra—was in the den. She looks like an older version of Jamie, with wavy, black hair and creamy, white skin. She had classical music on the stereo. She was lying on the couch, doing a crossword puzzle.
    â€œJamie is in her studio,” she told me. “You know. In the garage. Ever since the accident, that’s where she spends her time. Doing pottery she never lets me see.”
    Did I detect a little bitterness there?
    I thanked her and headed to the back of the house.
    â€œDana, how was your first day?” Aunt Audra called after me.
    â€œGreat!” I shouted back. No sense getting into it.
    I closed the kitchen door behind me and stepped onto the driveway. A gusting wind had come up, shaking the bare trees in the backyard. A shutter rattled at the side of the house.
    I was still wearing my down jacket from school. I pulled up the collar as I trotted to the garage.
    The single, pull-down door was shut. The door had no window, but I could see yellow light pouring out at the side of the garage.
    â€œHey, Jamie!” I shouted, cupping my hands around my mouth. “It’s me!” I listened hard. No reply. “Hey—Jamie?”
    I bent down, grabbed the garage door handle, and started to hoist up the heavy door.
    I had it raised a foot or so from the driveway when I heard the loud shriek from inside:
    â€œStay OUT! I mean it! STAY OUT!”

14
    â€œJamie, it’s me,” I called. “Are you okay?”
    I heard running footsteps. The garage door rolled up a few feet. Jamie slid outside and pushed the door down behind her.
    Her face was red, and she was breathing hard.
    I jumped back. “Sorry. Why did you scream like that? You . . . you scared me.”
    She had a towel in one hand, covered with brown and red stains. She used it to wipe a spot of clay off one cheek.
    â€œI’m sorry too,” she said. “I didn’t mean to scream. It’s just . . . well . . . I don’t allow anyone in my sculpture studio.”
    I narrowed my eyes at her. “Excuse me?”
    â€œIt’s kinda my own private space,” she said, balling up the towel between her hands. “It’smy therapy. After the accident . . . after I fell into that excavation hole last year, I was home for months. I needed a lot of rehab time. I turned this studio into my own private world.”
    I still didn’t understand why I couldn’t come in and see what she was doing. But no point in arguing with her. She had a rough year, after all. She’s entitled to her own space.
    She studied me for a moment. “Dana, how was your first day at our lovely school?”
    â€œJust lovely ,” I said. I grabbed the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Can I talk to you for a minute or two?”
    She nodded. “Sure. Give me a sec to clean up. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
    When she joined me at the kitchen table a few minutes later, she still had a spot of red clay on one cheek. She dropped down across from me and rolled up her sweatshirt sleeves.
    â€œYou’re sweating,” I said.
    â€œIt’s hot in