Free Return to the Dark House by Laurie Stolarz Page B

meeting? Because I’m a part of your past?”
    “Sort of ironic, isn’t it? I mean, since we never really met before now. The scary part? After the Dark House weekend, it never even dawned on me to deal with what happened. Plus, I
got so distracted by my five minutes of fame. By the time I arrived on campus, I was the quintessential ‘it’ girl—the one who’d been on television and interviewed in
newspapers and magazines, the girl who got away. But it wasn’t long before that five minutes of fame morphed into five degrees of shame. Now everybody just sees me as the girl who
could’ve stopped everything but who royally blew it instead.”
    “And how do
you
see yourself?”
    “Lucky to be alive, I guess. But also questioning who I am. A coward who only cares about herself…? A girl who’s okay being noticed as the winner in a losing game?”
    “Or a survivor.”
    “Okay, but a survivor at what cost?” I gobble a few more fries. “Anyway. I used to research the horror movie market pretty hardcore, looking for opportunities to audition.
That’s when I saw the Nightmare Elf’s contest. I thought it might be a nice stepping stone, getting to meet JB and all.”
    “Justin Blake?” Ivy asks, as if there’s any other JB.
    “Well,
duh
?” I roll my eyes.
    “And now for the million-dollar question.” She licks her syrupy finger. “Why didn’t you stick around to meet JB? What made you leave?”
    “The police didn’t tell you?” I ask, feeling the surprise on my face. “I found a body. In the basement.”
    Ivy’s fork drops to her plate with a clank and her eyes get saucer-big. The girl has serious star potential.
    “I’d cut my hand pretty bad,” I tell her. “And so I went downstairs to look for Midge, hoping she’d have a first aid kit. There was a freezer chest by the boiler
tank. I opened it, looking for an ice pack. Instead I found a girl’s body.”
    “What girl?”
    “I don’t know.” I shrug. “The body was gone by the time the authorities got to the house, and the inside of the freezer had been torched—probably to destroy the
DNA.”
    “I had no idea.” Her mouth gapes open. She reminds me a little bit of Barbara Steele from
Black Sunday
, one of the most notable horror movies ever.
    “Anyway, I gave the feds a full description of the body, but there hadn’t been any missing-girl reports fitting that description, so I’m not really sure where things stand on
that front. I’m not even sure if the police believe that the body was real.”
    “But you’re sure it was?”
    “Definitely sure.” I nod. “I mean, I think it was. I’m almost positive, that is.” I let out a nervous giggle. “It’s just that there’s been so much
bogusness surrounding this case. Right after that weekend, an anonymous someone thought it’d be funny to send me an invite to see the sequel.”
    “Do you still have it?”
    “Negative. I gave it to the police. But I
do
have a weird video link that I can show you,” I say, perking up. “I got it just today, actually—just a few minutes
before you arrived. I didn’t get to watch the whole thing, but it looks super dullsville: a family, a diner, a waitress with Mohawk hair and vampy makeup.”
    “Can I see it?”
    “Sure,” I say, spotting my evil ex-roommate and her plastic pet Barbie at the potato bar. I’d give almost anything to cast them in a slasher movie, where they’d be the
overnight campers, and I’d be the deranged ax-wielding counselor.
    Emily lets out a snort of a laugh when she sees me look.
    “Who’s that?” Ivy asks.
    “Emily, my old roommate, with Barbie, her
new
roommate, aka the leaning tower of Leesa. I really hope they get the fuzzy bacon bits.”
    “What makes her a leaning tower?”
    “Do you seriously need to ask?”
    Ivy takes a second look, her eyes zeroing in on Barbie’s double-D cups, made even more pronounced by the Betty Boop decal on the front of her top.
    “Barbie got those implants for