Broken Hearts by R.L. Stine

seemed to be staring straight ahead, not moving.
    â€œWhat’s his problem?” Steve asked, leaning against the car door as he stared at Luke’s car.
    â€œI don’t know,” Josie replied, bewildered. “Why is he just sitting there?”
    â€œThink I should go talk to him or something?” Steve suggested.
    Josie shook her head. “No. I don’t know. I mean, he’s okay, I think. Maybe he just wants to be alone or something.”
    â€œWeird,” Steve said, shaking his head. He lowered himself into the car.
    As they drove down Fear Street, heading toward town, Josie was surprised to find herself becoming more and more frightened.
    She tried to force them away, but the upsetting images of the past week invaded her mind. Muggy dead. The dark puddle of blood. Rachel’s giggling response. Rachel so gleeful as she announced that somebody hated Josie. The valentines. The horrible valentines with their scrawled, ugly threats.
    She stared out into the passing night, dark yards and houses whirring by, and felt the waves of fear roll over her body. “Steve,” she said softly, touching hisarm as if making sure he was real and not just another image. “Steve, maybe we should turn back.”
    â€œYou’ll be okay,” he said soothingly. “Really.”
    â€œBut those valentines. They all said I’d die today.”
    â€œA stupid joke, Josie,” he replied calmly. “A horrible, stupid joke. Don’t worry.”
    â€œBut I am worried,” Josie admitted in a trembling voice. “I’m very worried. . . .”

Chapter 14

ERICA IS WORRIED
    E rica squinted through the darkness to the clock on her bedroom wall: 2:03.
    She pulled herself up in bed and lowered her feet to the floor.
    Staring at the clock, she stretched and listened to the silence.
    The house was dark and still.
    I’m the only one awake, Erica told herself unhappily.
    Her father was still away on his business trip. Her mother had returned from a party at the neighbors’ house at about eleven-thirty and had gone right to bed.
    Mom is sleeping peacefully, Erica thought. She’s such a sound sleeper, she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know that it’s after two in the morning and Josie isn’t home.
    I’m the only one who’s awake.
    With a groan, she stood up and untwisted her nightshirt. Then she made her way across the dark room to her desk, the floorboards creaking under the thin carpet.
    She clicked on the desk lamp, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the bright white light. Leaning on the edge of the desk, she reached for the phone directory.
    She dropped the directory on the desk, then flipped quickly through the B’s until she found Barron. Steve’s phone number had been underlined in red ink, probably by Josie.
    Keeping her finger on the number, Erica glanced up at the clock. She sighed and punched Steve’s number, leaning against the old oak desk as she waited for the ring.
    â€œHello?” Steve answered halfway through the third ring, his voice hoarse with sleep.
    â€œSteve?” Erica whispered.
    â€œUh-huh. Who’s this?”
    Erica started to reply, then heard a loud clunk.
    â€œSorry,” Steve said after a few seconds. “Dropped the phone.”
    â€œWere you asleep? It’s Erica.”
    â€œHuh? Erica?” Steve said the name as if he’d never heard it before. “Yeah. I was asleep. I . . . uh . . .”
    â€œSteve, I’m so worried,” Erica told him, her voice revealing her fear. “Josie isn’t home.”
    The line was silent for a long moment. “Not home?” Steve finally replied, sounding alert. “What time is it?”
    â€œIt’s after two,” Erica told him.
    â€œIt is?” He sounded very surprised. “But Josie should’ve been home hours ago.”
    â€œI don’t understand,” Erica said, starting to sound more than a little