Read Online The Conclusion by R.L. Stine - Free Book Online

lid fast.
    It let out a long, loud hissssssssssss as I squeezed her, squeezed her . . .
    Hot steam poured out from under the lid.
    An arm and a leg dangled limply out of the machine.
    I pulled up the lid. Then brought it down and steamed her again.
    And one more time for luck.
    One more time for Hope.
    Hope, my soulmate. My Hope.
    I wish you were here with me now, Hope, I thought. I wish you could be here to see me work so hard for you.

part three
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Hope

chapter
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15
    A ll the way to the coffee shop, I kept thinking, Chris won’t be there. He doesn’t really want to see me. He forgot all about it by now.
    I had worked myself into a frenzy. Convinced myself that he was just teasing the night before. That he really had no interest in me at all.
    Why would anyone want to see me?
    I wasn’t slinky and sexy like Angel. And I didn’t have Jasmine’s emerald eyes or great smile.
    He won’t be there, I told myself, practically running to get to Pine Street. Don’t get your hopes up. He won’t be waiting for you there . . .
    So when I pulled open the glass door and saw Chris sitting at the counter, I nearly cried out.
    He lowered his newspaper when he saw me, and a smile crossed his face. He patted the red vinyl stool beside him.
    â€œHi!” I called, too loudly. I hurried over and climbed up beside him. “How are you?”
    â€œOkay,” he replied. But his smile faded. “Kind of upset, actually. Did you see the paper?”
    He held it up, and I reached for it. NEW CAMPUS MURDER . The big black headline nearly hit me in the face.
    â€œAnother girl from my dorm,” Chris murmured softly. He shook his head. “I knew her. I mean, I met her. Wow . . . I can’t believe someone I just met was murdered.”
    Chris continued talking, but his words faded to the background of my mind. I stared at the photograph beneath the headline. A high school yearbook photo. Of Margie.
    Margie. Margie.
    So Darryl had struck again. More dirty work on my behalf.
    I suddenly felt sick. The photo blurred. The whole restaurant blurred and started to tilt crazily. My ears filled with a loud, roaring sound. I grabbed the countertop to keep from falling off the stool.
    â€œHey—what’s wrong with your hands?” Chris’s voice broke through the roar.
    â€œHuh?” I blinked several times, struggling to focus.
    Chris took my right hand and turned it palm up. We both stared at the line of little red bruises in the center of my palm.
    â€œDid you cut yourself?” Chris asked.
    â€œIn my sleep, I think,” I told him. “I dug my nails into my skin. Must have been having a bad dream.”
    He examined the palm, holding my hand gently. Iliked the way he held my hand. It sent a tingling feeling up my arm.
    â€œIt must have been a really bad dream,” he said, finally letting go. “I don’t blame you for having bad dreams, Karen. Not with the horrible murders on this campus.”
    I felt guilty about not telling him my real name. It was probably better to play it safe, though. He might slip and tell someone he’d met a girl named Hope. Then I’d be in big trouble. It was better to let him go on thinking my name was Karen.
    Chris shoved the newspaper away. “Can you believe it? Two girls from the same dorm room?”
    I didn’t know what to say. I almost blurted out that I knew them too.
    But of course that would be a stupid thing to admit. It would bring up too many other questions. I certainly didn’t want to tell Chris that I knew Mary and Margie because I had lived across the hall from them!
    It wouldn’t take Chris long to figure out that I was the girl the police were looking for. So I just shook my head sadly and didn’t say a word.
    â€œI think we should talk about something else,” Chris suggested. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring you down.”
    â€œIt’s okay,”