Free My Name Is Evil by R.L. Stine

night.”
    â€œI—I’m glad you called,” I shouted over the static.
    And then—I had to ask.
    I don’t know why. I knew it was totally crazy. I knew Dad would only think I was weird.
    But I had to. I had to ask while I had him on the phone.
    I stood up. “Can I ask you a question, and you promise not to laugh at me?” I shouted.
    â€œWhat?” he replied. “Oh, yeah. Okay. Go ahead.”
    â€œDad … is there something strange about me? Do I have some kind of weird powers?”
    A burst of static on the other end. I pressed the phone tighter to my ear.
    What did he say? What was his answer?
    â€œI can’t talk about it.”
    Is that what he said?
    That couldn’t be it—could it?
    No. I didn’t hear him right.
    â€œDad? Dad?” I cried. “Are you still there? What did you say?”
    Silence.
    â€œDad? Dad?”
    Silence.
    The connection was lost.
    I stared at the phone. I knew I hadn’t heard correctly. I knew I got it wrong.
    â€œI can’t talk about it.”
    No. No way.
    What kind of an answer was that?

Before school the next morning I ran into Glen at his locker. “How’s it going?” I asked.
    â€œOkay.” He slammed the locker door shut.
    I shifted my backpack on my shoulder. “Where are you headed? What’s your first class?”
    He glanced nervously from side to side, as if searching for someone else to talk to. “Music Appreciation,” he said. “Hey, I gotta go.” He hoisted his backpack up by the straps with one hand and hurried away.
    He was so unfriendly.
    He seemed afraid of me, I realized.
    Across the hall I saw Deena and Marci staring at me. They looked away when I waved to them. But I made my way over to them.
    â€œHey—hi!”
    I was still thinking about how unfriendly Glen had been. But I tried to sound cheerful. “I like your vest,” I told Marci. “Cool color.”
    Marci didn’t reply. She glanced at Deena.
    â€œDid you hear anything about Jilly?” Deena asked.
    â€œNot yet,” I said. I gazed down the hall. “I’ll ask one of her sisters when they get here.”
    They both nodded coldly. Then they turned and started to walk away.
    â€œThat was so horrible last night,” I called after them.
    Marci spun around to face me. Her pale cheeks reddened. Her eyes burned into mine. “Why did Jilly say that stuff about you last night, Maggie?”
    I swallowed. “Excuse me?”
    â€œWhy did Jilly blame you for what happened? Why did she say you were evil?”
    â€œI don’t know!” I cried shrilly. “I don’t know why she said that! I really don’t! You’ve got to believe me!”
    They both just stared at me. As if I were some kind of lab specimen or strange creature from another planet.
    They didn’t say another word. They turned and hurried away.
    I stood there in the middle of the hall, breathing hard, my heart racing. I felt so bad. I could feel hot tears on my cheeks.
    Did Marci and Deena believe what Jilly said?
    Did Glen think I did something to Jilly so that I’d make the dance company?
    How could they think such a crazy, horrible thing?
    When I spotted Jackie striding down the hall, I was so happy to see a friendly face. I wanted to grab her and hug her.
    Wiping the tears away with both hands, I ran toward her. “Jackie—hi! How is Jilly?” I called.
    She shrugged. “I guess she’s okay,” she said. “I mean, it could have been a lot worse.”
    â€œWhat did the doctors say?” I asked breathlessly.
    Jackie sighed. “Well … she has a badly sprained ankle. And two bruised ribs.”
    â€œOh, wow. Is she … is she home?” I asked.
    Jackie shook her head, her long, black hair tumbling out from beneath her purple down coat. “Not yet. The doctors want to keep an eye on her a little while longer. They said maybe this