Goosebumps: The Curse of Camp Cold Lake by R. L. Stine Page B

resting his feet on top of his tiny desk. He twirled a toothpick in
his mouth.
    “Hey, Sarah—how’s it going?” He flashed me a friendly smile and motioned
for me to take a seat in the folding chair across from his desk.
    I could see his eyes studying me.
    “I hear you had another little problem in the lake,” he said softly. He moved
the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “What’s going on?”
    I took a deep breath.
    Should I tell him there is a ghost girl who has been following me everywhere?
Who wants me to be her buddy?
    He’d just think I’m nuts, I decided.
    “You had a bad shock yesterday,” Richard said. “We really thought that you
drowned.”
    He lowered his feet and leaned over the desk toward me. “Maybe you went back
in the water too soon,” he said. “Too soon after the shock.”
    “Maybe,” I murmured.
    And then I blurted out the question that was really on my mind. “Richard,
tell me about the girl who drowned here.”
    His mouth dropped open. “Huh?” The toothpick fell onto his lap.
    “I know that a girl drowned in the lake,” I insisted. “Can you tell me about
her?”
    Richard shook his head. “No girl ever drowned at Camp Cold Lake,” he said.
“Never.”
    I knew he was lying.
    I had proof, after all. I had seen Della. And talked with her.
    “Richard, please—” I begged. “I really need to know. Tell me about her.”
    He frowned. “Why don’t you believe me, Sarah? I’m telling the truth. No
campers have ever drowned at this camp. No boys. No girls.”
    I heard a soft sigh behind me.
    I glanced back at the open doorway—and saw Della standing there.
    I jumped to my feet. And pointed. “Richard!” I cried. “The girl who drowned!
She’s standing right there! Don’t you see her?”
    Richard raised his eyes to the doorway. “Yes,” he replied softly. “I see
her.”

 
 
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    “Huh?” I gasped and grabbed the edge of his desk. “You see her?” I cried.
“You really do?”
    Richard nodded. He had a solemn expression on his face. “If it makes you feel
better, Sarah, I’ll say that I see her.”
    “But you don’t really see her?” I demanded.
    He scratched his sandy-colored hair. “No. I don’t see anything.”
    I turned back to the doorway. Della grinned at me.
    “Sit down. Please,” Richard instructed. “You know, sometimes our mind plays
tricks on us. Especially when we’ve been through a really bad scare.”
    I didn’t sit down. I stood in front of his desk and stared hard at Della.
Stared right through her.
    “She’s not in my mind! She’s right there!” I shouted. “She’s standing right
there, Richard. Her name is Della. She drowned at this camp. And now she’s
trying to drown me too!”
    “Sarah—please calm down,” Richard said gently. He climbed around his desk
and put a hand on my shoulder. Then he led me to the door.
    I was standing face-to-face with Della.
    She stuck out her tongue at me.
    “See? There’s no one there,” Richard said.
    “But—but—” I sputtered.
    “Why don’t you stay away from the lake for a few days,” he suggested. “You
know. Just hang out and relax.”
    Della mouthed his words as he spoke.
    I turned away from her.
    She giggled.
    “Don’t go to the lake?” I asked Richard.
    He nodded. “Take a few days and rest up. You’ll feel much better.”
    I knew I wouldn’t feel better. I knew I’d still have Della following me
everywhere, trying to make me her buddy.
    I sighed. “That won’t help,” I told him.
    “Then I have a different idea,” he said. “Pick a sport you haven’t tried,
Sarah. Pick something really hard. Like water-skiing.”
    “I don’t get it,” I replied. “Why should I do that?”
    “Because you will have to think so hard about what you’re doing, you won’t
have time to worry about ghosts.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. Right.”
    “I’m trying to help you,” he said sharply.
    “Well… thanks,” I replied. I didn’t know what else to