The Prom Queen by R.L. Stine

came backand stood behind me. I scooted my chair to the side so I could look up at him. “Yes, lonely,” he said. “It hurts so much with Simone gone.”
    Justin reached out and gently cupped my cheek. Then he moved his hand and rubbed my neck. I pulled my head back and studied him warily.
    â€œCome on, Lizzy,” he said softly. “You’re interested in me. I can tell.”
    I snorted. He looked stunned.
    â€œSorry,” I said, “but I swear you’re the biggest egomaniac in the history of Shadyside. What makes you think I’m interested in you?”
    Justin’s eyes widened. His mouth went slack. “Well, if you’re not, you’re the first girl I’ve met around here who isn’t.”
    I got out of my chair and moved away from him. “I guess you’re not used to being rejected, are you?”
    â€œAs a matter of fact”—Justin’s back arched a little—“no.”
    â€œNo,” I agreed. “No one rejected you even while you were going steady with Simone.”
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?”
    â€œWhat do you think it means? It means you were going out with Simone’s friends behind her back.”
    â€œThat’s a lie.”
    I felt a surge of anger. “Don’t call me a liar, Justin. You’re the liar. You went out with Dawn. You went out with Rachel. And with Elana. And those are only the ones I know about.”
    â€œI don’t know what you’re talking about,” hesaid. There was a new look in those blue eyes now. Fear.
    â€œYou were with Elana the day Simone was killed,” I went on. “You already told the cops that part. Or did you forget?”
    â€œSo what?” Justin said. “That doesn’t make me a murderer.”
    I held my breath. “I never said anything about your being a murderer,” I said finally.
    â€œWell . . . then . . . what are you getting at?”
    He seemed totally flustered now.
    â€œJust that it was a pretty crummy thing to do to Simone,” I continued.
    â€œWell, I don’t want to talk about that right now,” he said, his eyes flashing. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t talk about it, either.”
    He spun on his heels and walked out.
    That was a threat.
    I had just been threatened.
    What would he do if I didn’t keep my mouth shut? I wondered.
    As if in answer, the front door slammed shut.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    The five prom queen candidates—even Simone and Rachel—were all parading onstage in their gorgeous prom dresses. All the dresses were identical. They were all bright red. All the girls stopped with their backs to the audience.
    Mr. Sewall, the principal, was standing at the microphone, holding a small white envelope in his left hand. Next to him stood Lisa Blume, thestudent council president. She was holding the queen’s crown and scepter.
    â€œAnd now,” said the principal, “this year’s winner and Shadyside’s prom queen . . .”
    He ripped open the envelope. All the kids at the prom had stopped dancing and were watching the prom queens. Mr. Sewall too. What he saw was so horrifying that he never announced the winner.
    One by one the prom queens slowly turned to face the audience.
    And as each girl turned, screams rang out through the auditorium.
    Each face was revealed. Each face greeted the screams with blank and staring eyes.
    The flesh on the girls’ faces was decaying. Their hair was matted with wet dirt and dead brown leaves. Their faces looked as if they’d been buried in wet earth for several weeks. Bone poked through the putrid, sagging chunks of greenish flesh.
    Simone’s face was the most frightening. The flesh of her cheeks had rotted so badly that her cheekbones were sticking right through.
    Only the eyes of the prom queens remained intact. The girls’ eyes were all blood red; they stared at the