A Midsummer Night's Scream by R. L. Stine Page B

Dane is a total star. And you stood him up?”
    “I didn’t stand him up, Claire. I’m just late. I … didn’t want him to think I’m too eager.”
    I groaned. “Maybe he didn’t want to jump you. Maybe he just wanted to make you feel more comfortable working with him.”
    She shrugged. “Whatever. You know his reputation. You read the magazines, too. He—”
    “Those magazines all lie, Delia. They trash everybody.” I climbed out of the booth. “Come on. Let’s go to Burbank. Maybe you can still catch him.”
    I had to pull her out of the booth. She studied her reflection in the window glass. “My hair…”
    “Looks great,” I said. “Let’s go.” I led the way to my mom’s white Volvo, parked at the end of the block. We climbed in and I started it up.
    Delia turned the mirror toward her and studied herself. She pulled lip gloss from her bag and smoothed it carefully over her lips. “Claire, do me a favor?”
    “What favor?”
    “Come with me. You come meet Jeremy Dane, too.”
    “But he doesn’t want—”
    “Please?”
    I’d always thought Delia had a lot more self-confidence than me. I thought it came with being a total knockout. But, you learn things about people when they’re stressed.
    “Sure. Okay,” I said. “Where are you meeting him?”
    “At the commissary.”
    We made pretty good time to Burbank. Traffic was backed up on Cahuenga, but once I turned off, we bombed along. I waved to Ernesto, the guy at the studio gate, and we pulled into the exec parking lot.
    Delia stretched her arms over her head as we climbed out of the car. It was a warm, clear day. The air was cool and fresh. A day to be happy to live in L.A. And the magic of being in a movie studio always swept over me as soon as I walked onto the lot.
    The streets were quiet. We passed Soundstage A, where they were filming the comedy Please Don’t. Empty and silent. They were probably away on location. And the Mayhem Manor cast wasn’t due till this afternoon.
    I heard a few voices from the open commissary window. “Maybe Jeremy is still there,” I said. I rolled my eyes. “You’re only an hour late.”
    Delia bit her bottom lip. “I know. I had to choose between Jeremy and a cupcake and…” Her voice trailed off.
    I pulled open the front door, held it for Delia, and we stepped into the front hall. The aroma of eggs, bacon, toast, and grilled ham washed over us. They were still serving breakfast. From down the hall, I heard the clatter of silverware and someone laughing loudly.
    The hall leading to the dining room was mirrored on both sides. Delia stopped to check herself out. She brushed her hair down with both hands. She tugged the short pleated skirt down over her tights.
    I walked a few steps in front of her. My chest felt kind of fluttery. I guess I was nervous, too. I glimpsed myself in the mirror. Then I stopped suddenly—and gasped.
    That dark, bearded face. Grinning at me from the mirror.
    I recognized him at once. Benny Puckerman.
    His eyes, his nasty grin, reflected clearly in the mirror.
    I spun around to face him. “Huh?”
    He wasn’t there.
    I turned back to the mirror. I gazed from wall to wall.
    The little hair ball grinned at me from mirrors on both sides of the hall. He raised two hairy fingers to his forehead and gave me a salute.
    I stopped breathing. My mouth dropped open. I felt a wave of cold run down my body.
    I turned again. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the hall. So how could he be reflected in the mirrors?
    “Delia,” I gasped. “Delia—look.”
    But the mirror reflected only my frightened face. Puckerman was gone.

 
    22
    JEREMY IS NEXT
    MY HEART WAS POUNDING A MILE A MINUTE. I still felt cold all over. I kept my eyes on the mirrors as I followed Delia into the dining room.
    I kept expecting Puckerman to pop back into view with that ugly grin. But he didn’t reappear. My head was spinning. How did he do that? Was it some kind of trick? Was he deliberately trying to scare