Free Midnight Games by R.L. Stine Page A

morning. It messed me up, made me feel horrible. I . . . I was finishing the sandwiches. I heard a splash outside. And . . . and . . . ”
    Nate squeezed me gently. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You don’t have to go on if—”
    I took a deep breath and continued. I wanted Whitney and the two boys to know the truth.
    â€œI carried the sandwiches to the pool. I . . . dropped the tray when I saw Dustin. He—he was floating facedown in the pool. And thewater around him—it was pink. The tray broke and the sandwiches scattered around me. And I just stared at the pink water.
    â€œIt took me so long to realize what made the water pink. It was Dustin’s blood. I started shouting his name. I thought maybe it was a joke. Maybe he was trying to scare me. He liked to do that. But, no. He was . . . dead.
    â€œI just stood there, frozen, and watched his body bob in the pink water. I didn’t scream or anything. I just stood there, not moving, not breathing. Not believing it, I guess.
    â€œThe police decided Dustin had tried a dive and hit his head on the side. It must have knocked him unconscious. His head was cracked open and he drowned.”
    I used my sleeve to wipe the tears from my face. My whole body was trembling. Nate held me tightly.
    I turned to my three accusers. Their cold expressions hadn’t changed.
    â€œGood story,” Whitney muttered, rolling her eyes.
    â€œWhitney, that was the worst day of my life!” I cried. “I really loved Dustin. How dare you accuse me! How can you be so cruel?”
    Whitney let out a furious shout. She grabbed my T-shirt with both hands and jerked me close to her. “How can I be so cruel?” she screamed. “How can I be so cruel?”
    â€œLet go of me,” I said, struggling to pull her hands away.
    â€œHow can I be so cruel?” she repeated, spitting the words in my face. “You killed my best friend—that’s how. I know you did.”
    She tightened her grip on my shirt and jerked me hard, back and forth. Her face was bright red now, and tears flowed down her cheeks.
    â€œYou killed my best friend!” she shrieked. You killed Ada—just to get her boyfriend and her scholarship!”
    â€œNo!” I cried. “No! Let go of me!”
    Jamie and Lewis pushed between Aaron and Galen. Jamie grabbed Whitney around the waist and tried to pull her off me.
    â€œYou killed Ada!” Whitney screamed. “You killed her! You killed her! You’re a Fear—and that means you’re a killer!”
    Wailing and sobbing, Whitney started pounding me with her fists. Covering my face, I tried to squirm away.
    I heard Ryland shouting.
    Someone pulled Whitney away.
    I lowered my hands and saw Galen and Aaron holding her, helping her out of the bar. She was sobbing at the top of her lungs, shaking her fists wildly in front of her.
    Trembling, my heart racing, I turned to Jamie. “What am I going to do? She’s crazy,” I whispered. “She’ll convince everyone I’m a murderer. How can I stop her?”

20
    Friday night I was hunched over my laptop trying to do some homework when Nate IM’d me:
    Dana, r u there? Can I come see u?
    I was in a bad mood. I messaged him back:
    Aren’t u afraid to be alone with a murderer?
    He ignored my question and wrote:
    c u soon.
    I jumped up and hurried to change out of the torn T-shirt and baggy jeans I was wearing. I pulled on a bright pink sweater over straight-legged black pants. Very sexy. I pulled a necklace from my dresser drawer and slid it around my neck.
    Then I put on lip gloss and brushed my hair.
    I kept thinking about Nate, how he held me in the bar, how he hugged me. How he tried to protect me from Whitney’s attack.
    But a lot of questions nagged at the back of my mind.
    What did Nate really think?
    He didn’t call me for three days after Ada died.