Party Games by R. L. Stine Page A

cosmetics case. I glanced in the mirror behind the dresser. “Whoa!” My hair was standing out in all directions in big clumps. “The wind on the lake,” I murmured, watching April’s reflection in the mirror. “It looks like my hair is trying to escape my head.”
    She laughed. “You’re funny, Rachel.”
    I pulled my hairbrush from my backpack and tried to tame my hair. Finally I gave up and put it up in a ponytail. When I turned to April, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, just staring blankly at the flowered wallpaper.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    She hesitated. “I was kind of like in a horror movie this week. For real,” she said finally. She avoided my gaze.
    â€œApril, what are you talking about?” I crossed the room and sat down beside her.
    She shook her head. “I was totally creeped out, Rachel. Seriously.”
    â€œBy what? What happened to you?”
    â€œA dead squirrel,” April murmured. She finally turned to me. “It looked like it had been run over. I mean, it was squished flat in the middle.”
    I squinted at her, tapping the hairbrush against the palm of my hand. My mind was spinning. “I … don’t understand.”
    â€œI … I got home after the basketball game. And I went to my room. And … I saw something under the sheets in my bed. It was a dead squirrel, stuffed under the covers.”
    â€œOmigod!” My cry escaped in a whisper.
    April shivered. “My bedroom window was wide open. And someone … someone had stuffed a dead squirrel in my bed.”
    â€œOmigod! Omigod!” I slapped my hands against my cheeks. “No. No way. That’s impossible.” I blamed Mac for the rat. I knew it had to be Mac. But …
    â€œHey, what’s wrong?” Geena strode out of the bathroom, zipping up her plastic cosmetics case.
    â€œApril found a dead squirrel in her bed,” I said. “And I—”
    â€œNoooo!” Geena screamed. The case fell from her hand and bounced on the carpet. “When? Friday night?”
    April nodded.
    â€œBut—but—” Geena sputtered. “I don’t believe it! Me, too! Not a squirrel. A baby raccoon. A dead baby raccoon. Under my covers. Squashed flat and its eyes were missing.”
    â€œOmigod! Omigod!” I struggled to get control. “I blamed Mac. I can’t believe I blamed Mac.”
    â€œBlamed him for what?” Geena demanded.
    â€œFor the dead rat in my bed,” I said.
    They both gaped at me open-mouthed.
    â€œYou, too?” April whispered. “All three of us?”
    â€œRoadkill,” I muttered. I shook my head. “I blamed Mac.”
    Geena squinted at me. “Mac? Why Mac? Why would Mac put a dead animal in my bed?”
    â€œHe wouldn’t,” I said. “I must have gotten it all wrong. Mac wouldn’t—”
    â€œSo who was it?” Geena asked.
    I jumped to my feet, still gripping the hairbrush tightly. “Roadkill,” I repeated. “Roadkill.” My eyes went from Geena to April. “Someone was trying to warn us. Someone wanted to scare us really bad .”

 
    11.
    AN AWESOME PARTY
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    We stared at each other. Someone had broken into our houses. Someone had carried a dead animal into our bedrooms and stuffed it under our blankets.
    It was sick. Sick and gross.
    â€œDoes anyone have any idea who did it?” April asked.
    Before anyone could answer, the door opened and Delores appeared. “Ready?” she asked. “I’ll take you downstairs to the party room.”
    As we walked to the stairway, the two dark-haired dudes we didn’t know led the way. Eric and Kerry tossed a white Nerf baseball back and forth. Spider dove to intercept it and almost fell down the stairs.
    Patti hurried to keep up with us. I wanted to ask her if she received a road-kill gift, too. But as we reached the first floor, we