Free Speed Demon by ERIN LYNN Page B

gesture, he lost interest and went back to watching Michael Myers slice people. One down. Both Adam and Levi were still looking at me. I looked back.
    We were all just looking.
    Not going to get anywhere that way, but how could I let Levi know we had a problem without Adam’s jumping on the jealousy train?
    “What’s up?” Adam said. “You going to watch the movie with us?”
    “Actually, I’m going to check on the cat. We probably should have taken that angel costume off of him before we locked him up.” True, but had I cared until I needed an excuse to leave the room? Not really, which probably made me an evil person, for which I was going to feel bad about later, after I discussed bleeding face-filled apple peel with Levi.
    “Okay. Then come sit with me,” Adam said.
    “Of course,” I said with a forced smile. Perfect girlfriend, that was me. (Insert anxious emoticon here.)
    I ran up the stairs hoping that Levi would somehow get the hint I never gave and follow me. On the landing, I tripped over a pile of something that shouldn’t be lying there and went down.
    “Ow, get off me!” my brother Brandon yelled, shoving at my legs.
    Peeling myself off his gut, I glared at him. “What are you doing lying on the floor in the dark? I could have broken my ankle!”
    “You could break your ankle standing still in bubble wrap.” Brandon’s cell phone chimed and still sprawled out on his back he flicked it open, obviously reading a text.
    Sticking my tongue out seemed like the only recourse for his rudeness, so I did that absentmindedly and left him to his random hallway weirdness.
    Opening the door to Zoe’s room, I flicked on the light and found Marshmallow Pants crashed out on Zoe’s zebra-striped chaise, looking fluffy and annoyed, even in his sleep, his angel halo crooked. Maybe it was just the type of cat, but I swear every time I looked at him MP was wearing his angry eyes. It was possible he was still recovering from whatever tragedy had landed him in our driveway or maybe he was just a crank.
    Carefully I slid the strap out from under his furry chin (do cats even have chins?) and lifted the halo off and tossed it on Zoe’s desk. MP opened his eyes, checked me out, licked his paw, then laid his head back down, eyes drifting closed again. Okay, now what? If the cat was sleeping he couldn’t be that miserable in his satin outfit, so I’d just leave it for now, but how long did I wait for Levi to show up when he didn’t know he was supposed to show up? Everyone was going to start to wonder where I was.
    Panic had me pacing in my Mary Janes, my sweaty hands rubbing over the front of my blue trapeze dress.
    I tried to tell myself it was no big deal. It was just an apple peel. Whatever. No one had tried to kill me, snatch me, molest me.
    Just a piece of fruit skin.
    With a face. Bloody slime. And the ability to growl.
    The door to Zoe’s room opened and I whirled, imagining a giant raging apple rolling in to crush me with its fiber content.
    It was Levi. Almost the same thing.
    “What are you doing?” he asked. “You look like you could cry at any given second.”
    Hello. I don’t think so. “I’m not going to cry. I’m just trying to have this party and want everyone to have a good time and not know that my house is possessed.”
    “The house is not possessed. What has you so overdramatic?” Levi strolled in and shut the door behind him. “Oh, wait. You’re always overdramatic.”
    “Ha ha, aren’t we funny. Never. Okay, so I threw my apple peel over my shoulder—”
    He interrupted me. “Why would you do that?”
    “It’s not important! But I threw it too hard and it went through the gap in the plastic in the hole in the kitchen wall and into the garage.” I paused for air. “Then I went to get it and it was by the van and it was oozing.”
    “Oozing?” His eyebrow went up.
    “Like the way my shower drain did last time. Oozing this foul nasty red slime like open heart surgery and,