The Dead Boyfriend by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online

my passenger window down so I could hear the gentle lapping of the water against the muddy shore.
    I thought the sound might calm me. But, of course, it didn’t.
    Again, my headlights played over the back of the Mustang. I slowed and edged to the right and let another car move between us. I didn’t want Blade to see me. I didn’t want him to think that I was suspicious, that I didn’t trust him.
    He was obviously dealing with an emergency. That’s why he didn’t have time to explain to me what was going on.
    But … if it was an emergency, why was he turning into the parking lot at Fire? Fire is a dance club on River Road. It’s a club for adults, but a lot of Shadyside students go there because the doorman isn’t very careful about checking your ID. If you don’t look twelve, you’re in.
    A neon sign at the street has red-and-yellow flames dancing into the air. A sign beside it reads: SHADYSIDE’S PREMIER DANCE CLUB. LADIES FREE .
    The club was a long, low, red building with red and blue lights along the flat roof. A red carpet led to the awning over the entrance. The doorman stood behind a narrow wooden podium at the front of the awning. Even with the car windows closed, I could hear the drumming beat of the throbbing dance music from inside the club.
    As I watched the red Mustang roll over the brightly lit gravel parking lot, a wave of nausea rolled over me. I was supposed to be with Blade tonight. He told me he got “hung up.” So why was he here at a dance club with that blonde girl?
    My ideas about a family emergency were quickly exploding, vanishing into air. And I fought down my dinner, which was rising to my throat. Fought down a choking feeling as I saw him pull into a parking place at the side of the club and cut his headlights.
    My car rolled slowly over the gravel as I hung back, leaning over the wheel and squinting into the glare of the red, blue, and yellow lights overhead. I stopped and backed into a space between two SUVs near the club entrance.
    When I looked back, Blade and the girl were out of his car. Blade wore his red hoodie over slim-leg jeans. She was tall and thin, taller than him, and the lights played over her pale face and the short white-blonde hair.
    She leaned into Blade, and he slid an arm around her shoulders. They staggered sideways together, laughing.
    A sob escaped my throat. I forced myself to breathe.
    I told him I loved him. That night in his car up on River Ridge, the stars above us, the sparkling river down below, when we held each other, held each other as if we were the only two people on earth. We kissed … we kissed and … and …
    I grabbed the door handle, ready to jump out of the car. I had an impulse to jump out, run across the gravel lot, grab him, grab him and spin him around, and—
    â€” No .
    I squeezed the steering wheel, squeezed it until my hands ached—and watched them kiss. She turned to him and he wrapped his hands around her neck and pulled her face close. And they kissed again. The red-and-blue lights played over them, making it look like a carnival scene or some kind of glaring dream.
    If only.
    If only it wasn’t real, Diary. But it was happening, and I was there.
    I shoved open the car door. It slammed into the SUV next to me. I didn’t care. I slid out and stumbled forward, away from the car. I couldn’t balance. The world tilted and swayed under me.
    My whole body shuddered as I forced myself forward.
    Did I cut the engine? Switch off the headlights? I don’t remember, Diary.
    Blade and the girl stopped at the doorman’s podium. He was a wide hulk of a guy, shaved head, wearing a purple sleeveless T-shirt that showed off his tight biceps and tattoos, and baggy gray sweatpants. Blade pulled something from his wallet—probably a fake ID—and the doorman waved them into the club.
    â€œStop!” I opened my mouth in a cry, but no sound came out. I