The Daring Game Read Online Free PDF Page B

haven’t even heard what the first dare is,” said Helen. “You’ll like it, I bet. It’s for all of us.” Pam refused to answer, but the others begged her to continue.
    â€œA dorm feast. I dare us all to bring food up here this Saturday and have a huge feast after Lights Out.”
    Eliza stretched out her legs with relief. She’d imagined all sorts of dreadful things Helen might have proposed. Dorm feasts, however, seemed a requirement of boarding school. She was surprised at the tameness of the first dare, but she decided that Helen probably wanted to test them with an easy one.
    â€œCome on, Pam, how about it?” said Helen, in an unusually wheedling tone.
    â€œEveryone has feasts. The Red Dorm had one last week. We had three when I was in the Nursery, and we never got caught.”
    â€œI have some chocolate bars in my tuck box,” said Carrie.
    â€œMaybe my aunt would make us a cake,” said Eliza.
    â€œI think I could bring something from home,” said Jean softly. They waited for Pam to reply.
    â€œOh, all right,” she said finally. “If everyone else does it I suppose it’s okay. As long as you’re sure we won’t get caught. I’m going out with Deb this Saturday—I’ll get some buns or something.”
    â€œLet’s make a list!” Carrie jumped out of bed to find a paper and pencil.
    B Y NINE-THIRTY on Saturday night, the food that had been concealed beneath coats, hurried up the stairs and stashed under beds, in drawers and in the closet far exceeded the items on the list.
    â€œGoodnight, girls,” said Miss Bixley, turning out the light. They waited fifteen minutes, then arranged all the food in the middle of the floor on Pam’s large bath towel. Drawing back the curtains, they sat cross-legged in a circle around the feast, gazing at its beauty with relish.
    A glistening pile of red licorice sticks
    A box of Stoned Wheat Thins
    A jar of peanut butter
    Three American chocolate bars
    A giant bottle of Coke
    Half a dozen Bismarck doughnuts, oozing with jam
    One slightly squashed chocolate cake
    Six pieces of fried chicken
    â€œWho bought all the licorice?” asked Carrie.
    â€œI did,” said Helen. “When Bix took us for our walk yesterday I persuaded her to let us stop at Crabby Crump’s.”
    They all preferred the twisting red licorice sticks from Crump’s Groceries across the street to any other kind. Mrs. Crump disliked the noisy Ashdown girls who crowded her tiny store, but they gave her so much business she had to put up with them.
    â€œI thought you said you had to spend all your pocket money on buying a new math scribbler,” said Pam nastily. They all knew Helen had dropped her old scribbler in a mud puddle on purpose because she hadn’t done her homework.
    Helen shrugged. “Oh, I had some left over.” The two dollars they collected in small brown envelopes from the office every Friday never went very far. Much of the food for the feast was donated from the downstairs tuck boxes that were kept full with “care packages” from parents. Helen, however, was never sent anything from home.
    Pam looked as if she didn’t believe Helen, but she became distracted by the chocolate bars Carrie was cutting into five pieces each with her nail file. “Yum,” munched Pam, biting into part of an Almond Joy. “I’ve always wanted to know what these taste like.”
    Carrie dipped her piece into some peanut butter. “Try it this way—it’s tremendous.”
    â€œThey should feed us like this all the time instead of starving us,” said Helen, holding a piece of chicken in one hand and a doughnut in the other, taking alternate bites of each. She hummed the song they had learned on the picnic last week, and they started singing it softly, the words muffled by food and laughter.
    There is a boarding school
    Far, far away
    Where they get onion