The Dead Boyfriend Read Online Free PDF

locked on me. The tiny silver skull on the side of her nose appeared to gleam. “We should talk,” she said finally. “We could be friends, right? We could be friends and sit down together and talk about Blade?”
    I was too stunned to hide my surprise. “Talk about him? You mean?”
    Her expression changed. Her eyes went dead. “I see,” she murmured. Her pale hands clasped together over the countertop. “I see. You don’t want to talk. I get it.”
    â€œNo—wait,” I said.
    She slammed her hands on the glass. Behind me, the popcorn machine suddenly started to crackle, making new popcorn. I jumped at the sound.
    I turned to the machine in surprise. Beside it, both soda dispensers began pouring out soda. Sparks flew from the glass hotdog warmer. It buzzed and shorted out.
    â€œHey!” I shouted.
    Across the lobby, I saw the alarm on Ricky’s face. He came trotting toward us, shouting my name.
    Deena had a triumphant grin on her purple lips. Her dark eyes flashed. “Sure you don’t want to talk?”
    I lunged to the back counter to shut off the soda dispensers. The soda was already puddling on the floor. My sneakers sank into the sticky, dark liquid.
    I saw Deena slide her hands off the glass countertop. She edged back a step.
    Popcorn began flowing over the sides of the machine like lava pouring out of a volcano. I struggled with the soda dispenser. The levers were stuck. A river of soda ran behind the counter.
    â€œI know we’ll talk,” Deena said. And then she whispered, “Sorry about your bracelet.”
    Over the rattle of the popping popcorn and the rush of the soda pouring onto the floor, I wasn’t sure I heard her right. “What did you say?”
    But she turned and began to stride quickly toward Auditorium Four.
    Ricky stepped breathlessly to the counter. “What’s happening? What’s happening here? Why did you turn everything on?”
    â€œI didn’t!” I cried. “I didn’t touch anything.”
    Ricky swung himself over the counter. His shoes splashed in the soda on the floor. He reached behind the dispensers and pulled the plugs. I hit the Stop button on the popcorn machine again and again. Finally, it slowed and the crackling and popping stopped.
    Ricky and I both stood there, breathing hard, staring at the incredible mess.
    â€œThis is impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head. “This can’t be happening.” I turned to Ricky. “I didn’t touch anything. I swear. I was talking to the girl from school and … and…”
    Ricky swept a bony hand back over his hair. “Must have been a power surge,” he said. “Some kind of power problem. From the electric company. That’s the only thing that could have caused this.”
    â€œYes,” I agreed. “A power surge.”
    But I didn’t believe it. I believed it was a warning from Deena Fear.
    Ricky walked to the supply closet to get mops. I pulled a large trash can behind the counter and began shoving the extra popcorn into it.
    I had no idea the evening was going to get even worse.

 
    8.
    The soles of my sneakers were sticky from the spilled soda. My shoes made swamp noises— thwuck thwuck thwuck —on the concrete of the mall parking lot as I made my way to my car.
    It took Ricky and me nearly an hour to clean up the counter area. We worked in silence, but every few minutes Ricky muttered, “How could this happen?”
    I had a pretty good idea. But of course I couldn’t share it with anyone. Who would believe it? If I said Deena Fear had power over those machines, people would lock me up as a crazed psycho, and I wouldn’t blame them.
    I now realized that she had a thing about Blade. I probably should have caught on earlier. But what did that mean? Did she plan to ruin my life with wild stunts like with my bracelet and the movie food machines? Was that her plan