Free A Midsummer Night's Scream by R. L. Stine Page A

“I heard about it. The Curse of Mayhem Manor strikes again.”
    “Don’t talk that way,” his dad snapped. “I don’t want any curse talk around here. This picture is very important to us all.”
    “Oops. Sorry.” Jake didn’t bother to make his apology sound sincere.
    Mrs. Castellano checked her lipstick in a little hand mirror. “What did you do today instead of the studio?” she asked.
    “Shawn came over and we hung out at the pool,” Jake said.
    His mom squinted at him. “Have you been drinking?”
    “No. Of course not.”
    I almost burst out laughing. Jake smelled like a Budweiser factory. Did he really think he was fooling anyone?
    His mom pressed her lips together. “I’m always surprised you and Shawn are such good friends. You really don’t have much in common.”
    I knew she didn’t approve of Shawn. She thought he was a bum.
    “You know,” Jake said, tapping his fork on the table, “the thing about Shawn? I’ve never been with Shawn when I didn’t have a good time.”
    His mom blinked. “What’s he doing this summer? He isn’t doing anything at all, right?”
    “Hey, give him a break,” Jake said. “His parents just split. He’s … adjusting, you know?”
    Mrs. Castellano looked like she wanted to say more about Shawn, but the waiter came with a tray of martinis. My parents had been quiet the whole time. Dad had that faraway look in his eyes, like he had something serious on his mind.
    He was dressed casual, in khakis, a pale yellow shirt, and a navy blazer. He clinked glasses with Mom and everyone said “Cheers.” My mom used to act in a TV sitcom, and she’s still pretty hot. For a mother, anyway.
    She has frizzy, white-blond hair and big blue eyes, and wears very short skirts and tight t-shirts. She’s totally hung up about looking young. She talks in a whispery, hoarse sitcom voice, and she’s very funny.
    I leaned across the table and whispered to Jake, “How’s it going?”
    He grinned and whispered back, “Shawn and I had a few beers, so I’m trying to act normal.”
    Like duh.
    I snickered. “You? Act normal?”
    “Whatever.”
    At the other end of the table, my mom was talking about a new designer store on Wilshire. She said, “It’s so outrageously expensive, but at least they’re rude to you.” That’s Mom. A laugh a minute.
    The dads were shaking their heads and talking in low voices, something about Disney grosses. Or maybe about something that grossed them out. I couldn’t really hear.
    Dad suddenly turned to Jake and me. “ Mayhem Manor is going to be huge,” he said. “Doing a remake of a horror film that ended in real horror is brilliant .”
    “Sy, it was your idea,” Mom told him.
    “That’s why it’s brilliant!” he said.
    Everyone laughed.
    He took a sip of his martini. “It’s going to save the studio. We’ve had nothing but flops. I can’t tell you how much we’re counting on this film. If it doesn’t work, we won’t be eating at The Ivy much longer.”
    Whoa. Heavy-duty.
    “It’s going to be a smash,” my mom said. “It’s going to be bigger than paste.”
    Everyone laughed again.
    The waiter brought our first course. The four adults all had salads. Jake and I always split the fried calamari.
    As I shoveled a bunch of them onto my plate, I studied Jake. His eyes seemed to be clearing. His cheeks had faded from bright red to pink. I wondered if he remembered the potion. If he remembered being so nasty to me.
    And the question just burst from my mouth. You know how sometimes you don’t mean to, but you say what you are thinking?
    “Hey, what’s the story about the little guy in the trailer?” I said.
    Dad lowered his salad fork. The other three adults turned to me.
    “What little guy?” Mr. Castellano asked.
    “You know,” I said. “The short little bearded guy with all the black hair? Looks like a bear cub? He’s in that trailer right next to the wardrobe department. It’s crammed with little bottles. He calls