out the first few words, but I hear him say, “… have a friend.”
I interrupt. “What are you talking about? What friend?”
“You haven’t got a chance, Stacy,” he whispers.
There’s a click as the line goes dead. Slowly I put down the receiver. I didn’t know that hate could be this strong. He has torn up my life. He’s destroyed four years that belonged to me. And most horrible of all, he’s taken my mother away from us. I shiver as I realize I actually hate him enough to kill him.
Chapter Nine
The late-afternoon sun is rapidly being swallowed by dusky shadows, so I hurry through the room, fumbling with trembling fingers, turning on a couple of lamps. The light helps. And the movement brings everything back to normal. I think about the person who made that telephone call. Why did he laugh and talk to himself? He might have been high on something, some weird character who was playing games. Our telephone number’s in the phone book, easy for anyone to find, and there are a lot of crazy people who might think a call like that was funny. No. I’m sure he wasn’t the murderer. The murderer wouldn’t call me. Of course, he wouldn’t.
The doorbell rings. Hesitating long enough to take a deep breath, I open the door. Jan stands there beaming at me.
“Here we are, right on time and ready to make you gorgeous!” Jan announces. She steps into the entry hall, B.J. behind her. Jan looks super, but I stare at B.J. and wish I could go to the party with a paper bag over my head. Nobody should razzle-dazzle her good looks likeB.J. It’s unfair to the rest of us who have to live in the same world.
My expression must show what I’m thinking, because the corners of B.J.’s mouth turn up, and she gleams at me. “Stacy, you have great possibilities. With a little makeup and a new hairdo we’ll work wonders.”
“You should have seen her in the clinic after I did her makeup,” Jan says quickly. She holds up an overnight case. “I’ve got everything here! Even hot rollers and scissors.”
“And we’ll choose something for you to wear,” B.J. adds. “Oh, isn’t this fun!”
I take a step backward, bumping into the wall. “Wait a minute. You said to wear jeans. I’m wearing jeans.”
They both examine me slowly from head to toe. “They’re
new
jeans,” B.J. says. “Besides, they’re a little baggy. You haven’t shrunk them yet, have you?”
“Well, no. I mean, why should I shrink them? They’d be too tight.”
“We’ve got time to shrink them. Take them off.”
Jan giggles. “Stacy, you aren’t going to wear that flowered cotton shirt?”
“I like this shirt.”
Jan puts down her case and opens it. Triumphantly she pulls out a bright red T-shirt with short sleeves and a V-neck. “I brought you a present,” she says, handing it to me. “With your dark hair you’ll look super in red.”
I try to step back again, but there’s nowhere to go. “Look,” I say, “why can’t I just go like I am?”
B.J. tucks her chin down and stares at me with determination. “Because you have something to live upto, Stacy. You’re the Sleeping Beauty, coming back to the world, and you have to make an impact on it.”
“Don’t call me that,” I plead.
Jan grabs my hand and pulls me toward my bedroom. “We don’t have much time. Let’s stop all this talk and get to work!”
They’ve got a goal, and I’m it. I can’t fight the two of them, so I give up and follow orders, getting into a robe as B.J. marches to the laundry room with my jeans and Jan lays out an array of bottles and jars and cans on the bathroom ledge.
She shampoos my hair and plops me into a chair that B.J. has brought from the kitchen. I’m facing away from the mirror over the sink, but that’s all right because I’m nervous about what I’ll finally see. I just hope Jan knows what she’s doing.
Chunks of my hair fall into my lap, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I may need that paper bag after all.
She squirts a
I interrupt. “What are you talking about? What friend?”
“You haven’t got a chance, Stacy,” he whispers.
There’s a click as the line goes dead. Slowly I put down the receiver. I didn’t know that hate could be this strong. He has torn up my life. He’s destroyed four years that belonged to me. And most horrible of all, he’s taken my mother away from us. I shiver as I realize I actually hate him enough to kill him.
Chapter Nine
The late-afternoon sun is rapidly being swallowed by dusky shadows, so I hurry through the room, fumbling with trembling fingers, turning on a couple of lamps. The light helps. And the movement brings everything back to normal. I think about the person who made that telephone call. Why did he laugh and talk to himself? He might have been high on something, some weird character who was playing games. Our telephone number’s in the phone book, easy for anyone to find, and there are a lot of crazy people who might think a call like that was funny. No. I’m sure he wasn’t the murderer. The murderer wouldn’t call me. Of course, he wouldn’t.
The doorbell rings. Hesitating long enough to take a deep breath, I open the door. Jan stands there beaming at me.
“Here we are, right on time and ready to make you gorgeous!” Jan announces. She steps into the entry hall, B.J. behind her. Jan looks super, but I stare at B.J. and wish I could go to the party with a paper bag over my head. Nobody should razzle-dazzle her good looks likeB.J. It’s unfair to the rest of us who have to live in the same world.
My expression must show what I’m thinking, because the corners of B.J.’s mouth turn up, and she gleams at me. “Stacy, you have great possibilities. With a little makeup and a new hairdo we’ll work wonders.”
“You should have seen her in the clinic after I did her makeup,” Jan says quickly. She holds up an overnight case. “I’ve got everything here! Even hot rollers and scissors.”
“And we’ll choose something for you to wear,” B.J. adds. “Oh, isn’t this fun!”
I take a step backward, bumping into the wall. “Wait a minute. You said to wear jeans. I’m wearing jeans.”
They both examine me slowly from head to toe. “They’re
new
jeans,” B.J. says. “Besides, they’re a little baggy. You haven’t shrunk them yet, have you?”
“Well, no. I mean, why should I shrink them? They’d be too tight.”
“We’ve got time to shrink them. Take them off.”
Jan giggles. “Stacy, you aren’t going to wear that flowered cotton shirt?”
“I like this shirt.”
Jan puts down her case and opens it. Triumphantly she pulls out a bright red T-shirt with short sleeves and a V-neck. “I brought you a present,” she says, handing it to me. “With your dark hair you’ll look super in red.”
I try to step back again, but there’s nowhere to go. “Look,” I say, “why can’t I just go like I am?”
B.J. tucks her chin down and stares at me with determination. “Because you have something to live upto, Stacy. You’re the Sleeping Beauty, coming back to the world, and you have to make an impact on it.”
“Don’t call me that,” I plead.
Jan grabs my hand and pulls me toward my bedroom. “We don’t have much time. Let’s stop all this talk and get to work!”
They’ve got a goal, and I’m it. I can’t fight the two of them, so I give up and follow orders, getting into a robe as B.J. marches to the laundry room with my jeans and Jan lays out an array of bottles and jars and cans on the bathroom ledge.
She shampoos my hair and plops me into a chair that B.J. has brought from the kitchen. I’m facing away from the mirror over the sink, but that’s all right because I’m nervous about what I’ll finally see. I just hope Jan knows what she’s doing.
Chunks of my hair fall into my lap, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I may need that paper bag after all.
She squirts a
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