Read Online The Dead Boyfriend by R. L. Stine - Free Book Online Page A

it’s blood. I don’t know what it is. It won’t come out in the wash.”
    They both gave me two-fingered salutes, touching their foreheads. Then they turned and walked into the pulsing lights, down the front lawn to their car.
    I closed the door carefully. I let out a long sigh of relief. My parents hadn’t awakened. I leaned my back against the door, shut my eyes, and tried to force my heartbeats to slow.
    They didn’t come to arrest me for murder.
    But they’d be back.
    I opened my eyes and ran my fingers over the dark stain on my sleeve. Still damp.
    â€œThe knife!” Did I say those words out loud?
    The bloodstain reminded me of the knife, and I realized I didn’t remember what I had done with it.
    The murder weapon.
    In my horror, in my panic, in my insane moment of deadly rage—did I leave it beside Blade’s body? Did I just toss it to the ground and run?
    Or did I take it with me?
    I suddenly pictured dropping it in my bag. My bag …
    I’d left it by the kitchen door. Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself away from the front door and made my way to the kitchen. I grabbed the bag by the twin handles and carried it up to my room.
    Holding the bag brought back all my panic, all the horror of that terrible scene beside Blade’s house. The tug-of-war—Blade and I battling over this bag in my hands.… If only … If only I hadn’t let go. If only Blade hadn’t overturned the bag.…
    The knife never would have fallen out. I never would have seen it or thought about it.… Or used it.
    I heaved the bag onto my bed and bent to paw through it. Yes. There it was. It took only a few seconds to feel the knife at the bottom, to wrap my fingers around the handle, and lift it out. It trembled in my hand as if it were alive.
    I held it in front of me and snapped it open. The silvery blade gleamed under the bedroom ceiling light, and tiny droplets of blood sparkled like jewels.
    Blade’s blood. I stared at the blade until I was nearly hypnotized by it. Stared at the glowing blood drops and the smear of blood near the handle. Stared until I wanted to scream. Until I wanted to explode.
    Yes. I suddenly knew I would explode—just go to pieces in a furious burst of horrifying energy—if I didn’t do something. If I didn’t tell someone.
    â€œI can’t stand it.” The words burst from my mouth. “I can’t take it. I can’t keep it all inside me.”
    I let the knife fall to the rug at my feet. But the sparkling blood droplets on the blade lingered in my eyes.
    Before I exploded, I had to tell someone. I had to confess what I had done.
    Julie . I thought immediately of my friend Julie. She was so practical, so sensible. She would listen to me. She wouldn’t freak out.
    I grabbed my phone in my trembling hand. The keypad came up. I stabbed at it, struggling to punch in Julie’s number.
    The phone rang twice before she answered.
    â€œJulie? It’s me!” I cried in a high, shrill voice. And the words just lurched from my mouth as if I were vomiting them into the phone. “I killed him! I did it. Oh, help me, Julie. Please help. I killed him. I just snapped. I lost it. I snapped. And I killed Blade!”

 
    17.
    I choked on the last words. My throat tightened and I couldn’t speak. Panting, I pressed the phone to my ear.
    â€œWho is this?” A hoarse voice on the other end, a woman’s voice I didn’t recognize. “Young lady, is this a prank call? If it is, it isn’t funny.”
    Oh, wow. I glanced at my phone screen. Wrong number. I’d called a wrong number.
    â€œS-sorry,” I stammered. I clicked the call off before she could say anything else. I tossed the phone into my bag.
    I dropped onto the bed and sat there hugging myself. I knew I wouldn’t get to sleep that night. I wondered if I’d ever sleep again.
    *   *   *
    Blade’s