The Conclusion by R.L. Stine Read Free Book Online

deeply. And smelled cherry.
    They both laughed again and slapped each other a high-five.
    â€œWe put red Jell-O in your shower head,” Matt explained.
    â€œThe old red Jell-O trick!” Will said, laughing. “Hey, man—you’re a good screamer!”
    That started them both laughing again.
    â€œWelcome to Fear Hall!” Matt declared.
    I gazed down. My chest was streaked with red. The water from the shower head was clear now. “Ha-ha. Funny,” I muttered.
    And I slammed the shower door shut.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    Of course I felt like a total geek. Why did I scream like that? Why can’t I ever be cool about anything?
    I was still thinking about it, still embarrassed, as I made my way downstairs to the big meeting room after dinner. I didn’t feel much like partying. But the dorm had organized a mixer—desserts and dancing—a chance for the new guys in the dorm to meet the girls who lived upstairs.
    I felt my usual nervousness as I stepped into the room. My throat choked up a little, and my hands were suddenly ice cold.
    Be cool, Chris, I ordered myself. For once in your life, be cool.
    When I started college, I promised myself I’d get over my shyness. Now is the time to keep that promise. Maybe I’ll meet some nice girls, I thought.
    I glanced around the room. The chairs used for dorm meetings had all been pushed against the walls. A long table with a bright yellow tableclothstood in one corner, loaded down with cookies and doughnuts and soft drinks.
    About thirty or forty dorm residents—mostly girls—clustered in the middle of the room, chatting in twos and threes. Loud dance music thudded from a huge boom box. But no one was dancing.
    With my hands shoved in the pockets of my khakis, I shambled over to the yellow table to get a Coke. As I walked, I counted the guys in the room. Only eight.
    Pretty good odds, I thought. Eight guys and about thirty girls.
    I wished Matt and Will had come down with me. It would have helped break the ice to have a couple of guys I already knew. But Matt went to see his girlfriend across campus. And Will said he had to study for an exam.
    I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I bumped into the girl ahead of me in line at the drinks table. “Oh. Sorry,” I mumbled.
    She turned around, startled.
    She was really a babe. She had short, dark hair with smooth bangs across her forehead. She wore one long, dangling, glittery earring. Great smile.
    â€œHi. Did you just move in?” she asked. Her round, dark eyes studied me.
    I could feel myself blushing. “Yeah. This afternoon, actually,” I managed to reply. “My apartment burned down, so . . .”
    â€œYou were homeless?” the girl next to her chimed in.
    I nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”
    â€œI’m Melanie,” the first girl offered. “And this is my roommate Margie.”
    Margie was short like me. She was kind of cute. She had sort of frizzed-out hair, a squeaky voice, and a little, turned-up nose.
    â€œI’m . . . Chris,” I told them. Why is it always so hard to announce your own name to someone? Why does it always sound so awkward?
    Margie handed me a Coke. “Have you ever lived in a dorm before, Chris?”
    I shook my head. “No. Only in an apartment.”
    Melanie sighed. “Dorms are supposed to be safer. But . . .” Her voice trailed off. She glanced away.
    The music pounded louder. “No one is dancing,” I said, motioning to the crowd of kids squeezed together in the center of the room.
    â€œNo one is really in a party mood,” Melanie replied. She spoke softly. I could barely hear her over the music.
    â€œIt’s been so frightening here,” Margie added.
    â€œOur roommate was murdered,” Melanie said. Her chin quivered.
    I gasped. “Oh no—!” I cried. “Was she the one . . .?”
    â€œIn the whirlpool. At the