Twisted

by Jo Gibson

Genres: YA Horror; YA Mysteries & Thrillers

Synopsis

From master of suspense Jo Gibson comes three novels of year-round terror--where the holidays are more than a little nerve-wracking. They're totally twisted. . . My Bloody Valentine It's Valentine's Day, and everyone at Hamilton High is excited about the big dance. Six girls are competing to be Queen of Hearts. Unfortunately, someone is taking aim at the contestants--and it's not Cupid. Unless Cupid is a deranged killer with a sharp knife and a deadly message. Be mine. . .or else. The Séance There's nothing like a killer party on Halloween--especially when it's in a secluded lodge in the woods. But when Jennifer Larkin's friends insist on holding a seance--in spite of the warnings of a local psychic--it's anything but a game. For the spirits are vengeful. The partiers are prisoners. And no one gets out of here alive. . . Slay Bells The new Crossroads Mall is the place to shop this Christmas. So when a snowstorm traps Diana Connelly and her friends inside, they don't even mind staying the night. Until the accidents start to happen. And Diana's friends begin to die. One by one. Naughty or nice. ‘Tis the season. . .to be murdered.

Release date: July 1, 2014

Publisher: Kensington Teen

Print pages: 561

Sample

It was the first week of February at Hamilton High, and everybody was going stir-crazy. Winter had arrived in full force, and the streets of Clearwater were piled high with snow. Another winter storm had hit, and icy snow was blowing against the cafeteria windows so hard, the panes were rattling and bowing in slightly with each new gust of wind.

Amy Hunter pushed back her long brown hair and sighed as she surveyed the dishes of food that lined the steam table in the student lunchroom. There were lots of choices today, but there wasn’t one single thing that she wanted for lunch.

“What’s the matter, Amy?” Colleen Daniels, Amy’s best friend since grade school, frowned slightly. “It doesn’t look that awful.”

Amy sighed again. “I know. The mac and cheese actually looks edible, but I can’t face the thought of eating it. I guess I’m really not hungry.”

Colleen slipped on the glasses perched on top of her head. She never wore them unless she absolutely had to because one of the guys had told her that she looked much better without them. And then she stared hard at Amy.

Amy began to get a very uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. Colleen had decided that she wanted to be a biologist, and the way she was staring made Amy feel like a bug under a microscope. “What is it, Colleen? You’re staring at me.”

“Sorry.” Colleen took off her glasses and shrugged. “It’s not like you, that’s all. You’re always hungry at lunch. Are you sick?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Are you depressed because Brett went out with Tanya again?”

“Shh!” Amy looked around, but no one was within hearing distance. She didn’t want anyone else to know that she had a giant-sized crush on Brett Stevens, the star player on Hamilton High’s basketball team. “I’m not depressed. I’m just . . . not hungry, that’s all.”

Suddenly Colleen began to smile and her whole face lit up. “I got it. I know exactly what’s wrong with you. You’re in love . . . right?”

“I don’t think so.” Amy shrugged. “At least, I’m not any more in love than I was last week.”

“Well, what is it, then?” Colleen plopped some mac and cheese on her plate and picked up a bowl of salad.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just winter.”

Colleen looked thoughtful. “Okay. I’ll buy that. Winter’s a real drag and we’re all sick of it. Have some hot chicken soup and you’ll feel better. That’s what my grandma always says.”

Amy nodded and ladled some soup into her bowl even though she doubted it would help. The soup was a bilious shade of yellow, the noodles looked like fat white worms, and there was absolutely no trace of chicken visible.

“Come on.” Colleen picked up a buttered roll and tossed it on Amy’s plate. She added a dish of butterscotch pudding and a generous helping of lasagne. “Let’s go. Michele and Gail are saving a place for us.”

“But, Colleen . . . I can’t eat all this!” Amy stared down at her tray in dismay.

“Don’t worry about it. If you can’t finish it, somebody will.”

Amy nodded. She knew exactly which “somebody” Colleen was referring to. Her mother called Colleen “the human disposal,” and she always made plenty of food whenever Colleen came over for dinner. Colleen had a huge appetite, and she never gained any weight. If Amy hadn’t been best friends with Colleen, she might have hated her. Although Amy wasn’t a bit overweight, she had to watch every calorie while Colleen could eat huge bowls of ice cream with all sorts of gooey and delicious toppings and never even stretch out the seams in her size five jeans.

The girls were waiting at their usual table, and Michele Porter, a pretty cheerleader who looked like a pixie with her short black hair, stared at Amy’s tray as she plunked it down on the table. “Are you going to eat all that?”

Amy shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m going to give it to Mrs. Chambers so she can send it to the starving children in Europe.”

Michele cracked up, but Gail Baxter looked puzzled. Of course, looking puzzled was nothing new for Gail. She’d spent years perfecting her dumb blonde act. Gail had short, curly blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a perfect figure. She was also a straight A student, but she was convinced that her high test scores would scare the boys off. Gail went into her ditzy blonde act whenever a boy was around, and she’d sworn to kill anyone who even mentioned that she was going to Harvard when she graduated.

“Mrs. Chambers ships food to Europe?” Gail’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know that!”

Jessica Ford, a slightly overweight redhead, came up just in time to hear Amy’s comment. She cracked up, too, and turned to explain it to Gail. “You couldn’t know because you weren’t here for second grade, but Mrs. Chambers used to lay a guilt trip on us if we didn’t finish our lunch. She’d say, ‘Eat your lunch, girls. There are starving children in Europe.’ So we’d eat our lunch, even if we didn’t like it. Except for Amy.”

“That’s right.” Colleen started to laugh. “Amy absolutely hates broccoli. And one day we had this beef and broccoli casserole that was really gross. When Mrs. Chambers reminded us that there were starving children in Europe, Amy handed her the tray and asked her to send it to them.”

Gail laughed. “Smart move, Amy. Never give way to manufactured guilt. It’s dehumanizing, and it turns you into a victim. It’s a well-proven fact that actions which are motivated purely by guilt eventually increase the level of human suffering. Hegel said it best in the nineteenth century when he was discussing the issue in—”

“Careful, Gail. Your IQ is showing.” Amy grinned as she interrupted her. “And here comes the basketball team.”

Gail glanced toward the door and immediately put on her ditzy blonde look. The basketball team was trooping into the lunchroom, wearing eye-popping, bright green blazers. “Okay. I’ll tell you later, if you’re interested.”

All the girls watched as the basketball team filled their trays from the steam table. Kevin Thomas, the student coach, stood to the side, checking their names off on a clipboard. Amy felt a little sorry for Kevin. He’d been on the team last year, but he’d been in a car accident during the summer, and they were still doing orthoscopic surgery on his knee. At least Kevin had survived. His twin sister, Karen, who’d been driving the car, had been killed.

Brett was at the head of the line, and Amy sighed as she watched him fill his tray. He was tall with dark hair and sexy blue eyes, and he looked a little like a young Elvis Presley. Brett was a lifeguard at the lake in the summer, and even though this was the middle of the winter, he still had a great tan.

Neal Carpenter was right behind Brett, and he was at least three inches taller. Neal was skinny, with short sandy hair and incredibly long arms and legs. When he was off the court, he was a total klutz, always tripping over his own feet. But when someone passed him a basketball, he was as graceful as a white-tailed deer running over a snow-covered field.

Amy watched as the rest of the team filled their trays. They were all friends of hers. Clearwater wasn’t a large town, and she knew everyone in her class. Most of them had been around since grade school. With the exception of Brett, who’d moved to Clearwater two years ago, and Tanya, who’d rolled in from California last year, Amy knew all of their parents and they knew hers. Perhaps that was why she was so fascinated by Brett. She’d never seen him fall off his tricycle, or get braces on his teeth. He’d come here as a handsome sophomore with a past in another town. That made him exciting and mysterious. And he even looked good in his awful bright green blazer.

There was a big game coming up tomorrow night, and Coach Harvey was really into psychology this year. For three days preceding an important game, the team wore bright green blazers to set them apart from the other students. They sat at a large table in the rear of the lunchroom, and they ate together. This was supposed to promote unity, but it didn’t really work unless Coach Harvey was there.

“Here comes Miss Popularity.” Colleen nudged Amy. “And look at her sweater . . . it’s the same color as the team blazers.”

Amy glanced toward the door of the lunchroom. Tanya Ellison was standing just inside the door, waiting to be noticed by the basketball team. And they would notice her; Amy was sure of that. Tanya’s sweater was incredibly tight.

“I can’t believe it!” Michele sighed. “She actually looks good in that awful kelly green!”

Gail nodded. “True, but it’s too bad she’s so poor. Maybe we should take up a collection.”

“What are you talking about?” Jessica stared at Gail in amazement. “Tanya’s father owns a whole chain of movie theaters. He’s the richest guy in town!”

“Maybe, but his daughter’s wearing hand-me-downs.”

“Hand-me-downs?” Amy was puzzled. “I don’t get it.”

Gail laughed. “Look at the size of her sweater. It used to belong to a much smaller girl.”

The other girls cracked up while Amy did her best to maintain her composure. Her parents had always told her that it wasn’t nice to laugh at someone else’s expense. But her friends’ laughter was infectious, and Amy just couldn’t keep a straight face. Gail’s joke was funny, and what she’d said was perfectly true. Tanya’s sweater really was too tight.

Colleen reached over Amy’s dish of butterscotch pudding to shake Gail’s hand. “Thanks, Gail. You managed to make Amy laugh. She’s been acting like it’s the end of the world all day.”

“What’s the matter, Amy?” Michele looked concerned.

“Nothing that summer couldn’t fix. I’m just sick of the cold and the gray skies, and winter. We don’t even have a holiday until Easter, and that’s almost three months away!”

“There’s Presidents’ Day,” Jessica spoke up. “We get a long weekend for that.”

Amy shook her head. “Presidents’ Day doesn’t count. It’s just a made-up holiday, and nobody ever celebrates. What are they going to do? Have the band play ‘Yankee Doodle’ and march down a snowbank?”

Michele cracked up. “At least you haven’t lost your sense of humor. And you’re forgetting about one of the best holidays of the year. Valentine’s Day is coming up.”

“That doesn’t count, either.” Amy sighed. “It’s fine if you’ve got a boyfriend. Then you get flowers, or jewelry, or an incredibly romantic Valentine card. But I don’t have a boyfriend, and Valentine’s Day means nothing to me.”

Colleen reached out to help herself to Amy’s buttered roll. “Cheer up, Amy. I personally guarantee that you’ll get at least one card. I’ll tell Danny to send you one.”

“Thanks a lot! If I get a card from your brother, my parents’ll lock me in my room until I graduate.”

“Hey . . . Danny’s not that bad.” Colleen began to frown. “His hair’s growing out, and the dye’ll be gone pretty soon. And he’s getting good grades.”

Amy thought fast. Colleen was very sensitive about her bad-boy brother. “I’m sorry, Colleen. Danny’s okay, and I like him a lot. But you know my parents . . . they think any guy who rides a motorcycle is depraved.”

Colleen didn’t look convinced, but she nodded. And then she turned to Michele and started to talk about a new routine the cheerleaders were practicing. Amy looked down at her chicken soup, and winced. Her big mouth had almost gotten her in trouble with her best friend. Colleen didn’t like to be reminded that her brother, Danny, was the worst nightmare of every Clearwater girl’s mother. They assumed that Danny was a juvenile delinquent because he’d dropped out of school in his junior year to go on the road with his punk-rock band. The band had done all right for the first year, but then they’d lost their drummer and gone belly-up. And now Danny was back at Hamilton High, two years older than anyone else, finishing out his Senior year.

“Maybe we should do something special for Valentine’s Day this year.” Jessica looked thoughtful. “I miss the parties we used to have when we were kids. Everybody got Valentine cards back then.”

Amy nodded. “Right. When I was in third grade, I got one that had a fir tree on the front. And the back said, ‘I pine for you.”’

“I bet you’ve still got it!” Colleen grinned. “I kept the one I got from Pete Brooks.”

“What did it say?” Michele looked interested. She’d gone out with Pete just last week.

“It was shaped like a lamp and it said, ‘To my Valentine. You light up my life.’ ”

Jessica nodded. “Very nice. Remember those little heart candies with the words stamped on them?”

“Of course.” Gail smiled. “You could never read what they said because the printing was so smeared.”

“And the pink ones tasted like Pepto Bismol!” Michele made a face. “I never could stand those. I liked the yellow ones, though. I think they were supposed to be banana. Why are you smiling like that, Amy?”

Amy waited until all the girls were quiet, and then she dropped her bombshell. “We all liked Valentine’s Day when we were kids in elementary school. Why don’t we do it all over again?”

“Do what?” Colleen was puzzled. “Have a third grade party?”

“No. But we could have a dance.”

“That won’t work.” Gail shook her head. “Valentine’s Day is in the middle of the week. We can’t have a dance on a school night.”

“Then we’ll do it on Saturday night. That’s even better because everyone can come. We could even make it a Sadie Hawkins dance.”

“What’s that?” Gail looked interested.

“My grandmother told me about it. It’s a dance where the girls ask the boys.”

“Great idea!” Gail nodded. “It’s perfectly in synch with women’s rights, and it’s about time Hamilton High entered the twentieth century. We sit at home by the phone and wait for the boys to call us, and this is supposed to be the age of the woman.”

Michele grinned. “That sounds good to me. Maybe we could decorate the gym with red and white streamers, and sell tickets and refreshments and everything.”

“Hold the phone.” Amy frowned. “I hate to bring this up since the whole thing was my idea, but we have a minor problem. We have to get Mr. Dorman’s permission to use the school gym.”

Gail shrugged. “No problem. We’ve got a student council meeting this afternoon, and Colleen and I will talk him into it. We’ll tell him that any profit we make can go to the library fund.”

“That should work.” Colleen nodded. “The library fund is Mr. Dorman’s pet project. He’s always complaining that we don’t have enough library books.”

Jessica pulled out her notebook and began to write out a list. “Let’s see . . . we’ll need streamers, and party favors, and tickets. And if there’s enough money, we can even hire a live band.”

“We could be starting a school tradition.” Amy began to smile again. “Hamilton High’s Valentine’s Day Dance could wind up being even bigger than the prom!”

Tanya passed their table, just in time to hear the tail end of Amy’s comment. She stopped in her tracks and turned to stare at Amy. “What could be bigger than the prom?”

Amy managed to put a friendly smile on her face, even though she didn’t like Tanya. As president of the senior class, she had an obligation to be friendly. “We thought it would be a good idea to hold a Valentine’s Day Dance.”

“I’ll help.” Tanya pulled out a chair and sat down without being invited. “We’ll need to hold a contest for the King and Queen of Hearts. That’s the way they did it at my old school in California.”

As the other girls began to discuss how they should vote for the King and Queen, Amy sat there, silently. She didn’t like the idea of a King and Queen of Hearts. It was simply a popularity contest, and someone always ended up with hurt feelings. She wanted to object, but if she did, Tanya would think it was because she was afraid of losing.

“What’s the matter, Amy?” Colleen noticed Amy’s silence, and nudged her.

Amy shrugged. And then it hit her, the perfect objection. “I don’t see how we can have a contest for the Queen and King of Hearts. The dance has to be a fund-raiser, and a contest won’t bring in any money for the book fund. I’m sorry, Tanya, but it just won’t work.”

“Maybe it will.” Tanya looked thoughtful. “Hold on a second. I just thought of a way to turn the contest into a real moneymaker.”

Amy watched as Tanya stood up and waved at the team table. “Brett? Come over here a second, will you? We need your advice.”

Brett looked pleased as he walked over to their table. It was clear he liked the idea of being asked for advice. “What is it, Tanya?”

“We’re planning a Valentine’s Day Dance, and we want to have a contest for the King and Queen of Hearts; but it’s got to be a fund-raiser. Do you think your father could print up some Valentine cards that we could sell for a profit?”

Brett shrugged. “Sure. Just work up a design and I’ll find out how much it’ll cost.”

“Good!” Tanya returned to her seat, leaned back and smiled at him. “Let’s keep it simple. How about a red heart on the front with two H’s in fancy lettering for Hamilton High?”

“That’s easy. My dad can do that, no problem.”

Tanya looked smug. “I knew we could count on you, Brett. We’ll sell the cards for votes. One vote for every card sold. The girls’ll vote for king, and the boys’ll vote for queen. And we’ll post the totals on the school bulletin board every day. If somebody’s favorite candidate is running behind, they’ll buy more cards.”

“Brilliant!” Brett began to grin. “The team can help. We’ll sell the cards in the cafeteria. That’ll give us something to do during lunch.”

“Do you think Coach Harvey will let you do it?” Colleen looked worried.

“Sure. It’ll get him in good with Mr. Dorman. He’ll be all for it.”

Tanya took charge again. “Okay. The team sells the cards, and the girls who have a free period after lunch can count the votes. Then we can post the standings before sixth period.”

Just then, the bell rang for the end of lunch break, and Tanya pushed back her chair. “Come on, Brett. You can walk me to history class, and we’ll discuss the layout of those Valentine cards.”

Amy frowned as Tanya took Brett’s arm and they walked off together. Tanya had a class after lunch, and so did Jessica, and Michele. And Gail and Colleen had student council business to do. She was the only girl who had fifth period free, and Tanya knew it. And Tanya had just stuck her with the task of totalling up the card sales and counting the votes!

Of course he’d heard about the Valentine’s Day Dance. Everyone was talking about it in the halls, and even during class. The dance, itself, sounded like a pretty good idea. Winter was a drag, and it would give them something to do. Although he didn’t really enjoy dances, he might go just to relieve the awful boredom.

The contest for the King and Queen of Hearts was another matter. He was all for fund-raising, but this contest could cause a lot of trouble in the halls of Hamilton High. Everyone knew who the king would be. The queen was a toss-up, though, and any one of the girls could win. It all depended on how much money a guy was willing to spend on his favorite girl.

That made him think of Karen, and he clenched his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. Karen might have been queen if she were still alive. She’d been the head cheerleader, the editor of the school paper, and the president of the student council. Karen had always been very popular, until the girls had decided to gang up on her.

He swallowed hard, past the lump in his throat. He really missed Karen, and it was hard not to think about her. He knew he had to accept what had happened, but he still half-expected to see Karen in the halls at school, opening her locker to take out her books, or cheerleading at one of the games, or sitting at a table in the lunchroom, surrounded by a crowd of friends.

He took a deep breath and steadied himself. He had to hang on to reality. Karen was dead, and there was an empty place in his heart that no one else could fill. There would never be another girl like Karen, and he had blown it. If he’d known what was going to happen, he would have saved her somehow. But she was gone, and he hadn’t even had the chance to tell her how much he loved her.

There was a frown on his face as his thoughts turned to the King and Queen of Hearts. Karen would have loved the contest, and he would have made sure that she won. Karen would have been the one to sit on the throne with a silver crown on her lovely black hair. The other girls weren’t worthy enough to be queen.

But Karen was dead, and it made him furious to think that one of the other girls would be queen, especially after the way they’d treated her. They’d gossiped about her, and criticized her for things she hadn’t done. Karen had told him all about it, and it still made him smolder with anger.

Karen had caught the flu last summer, and Tanya, the new girl in town, had seemed very glad to see her when she’d recovered enough to join their usual table at the Hungry Burger. Since Tanya had seemed interested, Karen had told her all about how she’d been unable to eat anything except saltine crackers and dry toast. And then Karen had left the table to order a Coke, and Tanya had seized the opportunity to start the vicious gossip that Karen had overheard.

Wasn’t it odd that Karen Thomas had caught the flu when no one else in Clearwater was sick? What if it wasn’t the flu? What if Karen had another, more serious problem?

The other girls had been shocked. What was Tanya implying? Did she think that Karen was pregnant!? Tanya had laughed. It was possible, wasn’t it? After all, there could be a reason why Karen was so popular with the boys.

Amy had tried to stop the gossip, but no one had listened to Amy’s advice about how much harm gossip could do. The rumors had flown, thick and fast, and soon Karen had been the subject of every whispered conversation. It had been too much for Karen to bear. The girls she’d thought were her friends, had been spreading rumors about her, behind her back.

He clenched his fists, and took a deep breath to keep from exploding. He knew that Karen’s fatal car accident had been the girls’ fault. Oh, they hadn’t killed her directly, and there was no way to prove that they were to blame. But he knew, in his heart, that they’d killed her just as surely as if one of them had stabbed her, or shot her, or pushed her over a cliff. Their cruel gossip had distracted Karen so much, she hadn’t been concentrating on her driving. And that was why she’d spun out on the old gravel road to the lake, and plunged down the embankment to her death.

Karen had died instantly. Her neck had snapped. But Karen’s tormentors were still alive, giggling in the halls, gossiping in the cafeteria, and planning their stupid king and queen contest.

He began to smile then, as he thought of a perfect way to do one last favor for Karen. She would want him to make certain that the Queen of Hearts was worthy of the honor.

It was time to live up to the private nickname Karen had given him. She’d called him “Cat,” and cats were cunning and clever animals.

He’d devise a test, and if the girl failed, he’d make sure that she wouldn’t be elected. Cat would eliminate her from the contest in the same way that they’d eliminated Karen from his life.

Permanently.

After all, there was no way that they could elect a dead girl as Valentine’s Day Queen.

It was another typical winter day. The mercury in the thermometer was stuck firmly on the zero mark, and the skies were a dull gray that reminded Amy of the battleship pictures in her American history book. At least the wind wasn’t blowing. That was a plus. But the local weatherman had warned that gusty winds and snow flurries could arrive before the end of the day.

Amy glanced in the mirror and forced a smile. She’d dressed in her most colorful blouse this morning, a bright yellow background printed with red and pink and orange flowers with bright green leaves. The blouse reminded her of the hot summer days she wished were here, and it went very well with her favorite dark brown slacks and matching blazer. Amy was trying her best to be cheerful this morning, but it just wasn’t working. She was just as depressed as she’d been yesterday.

It took only a moment to brush her hair. Amy pulled it back and fastened it with the hammered gold barrette that Colleen had given her for her last birthday. She’d have to do it all over again when she got to school. The hood of her parka messed up any hairstyle she fashioned at home; but she had a mirror in her locker, and it was easy to redo. She gave one final glance in the mirror, and nodded. She wasn’t beautiful, but she looked her best. Then she slipped into a pair of brown loafers and hurried down the stairs to the kitchen.

“How’s my favorite flower child?” Amy’s father looked up from his newspaper. “That blouse is a real eye-popper.”

“Thanks, Dad . . . I think.” Amy grinned at him. There was no way she wanted her mother to know how depressed she was. Then she’d ask a lot of questions and worry herself sick.

Amy’s mom was what Amy called a “P.M.W.” That stood for “Professional Mother and Wife.” Dorothy Hunter had given up her career as a court recorder when she was pregnant with Amy, and she’d devoted herself to making a perfect home for her daughter and husband. Amy’s mom was always reading articles in women’s magazines about warning signs. She was constantly on the alert for the six danger signs of teenage drug addiction, and the five warning signals of anorexia, and the nine probable indicators of potential teenage suicide. Dorothy Hunter would never believe that the weather was responsible for her daughter’s depression, even though it was perfectly true.

Amy’s mother smiled as she set a bowl of hot cereal in front of Amy. “I think you look very nice, honey.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Amy stared down at her cereal, and sighed. She hated oatmeal, but her mother insisted that it was a good breakfast, even though Amy had shown her several studies claiming that oatmeal had no more nutritional value than Pop Tarts.

Amy’s dad pushed back his chair. “I have to run. We’ve got a big meeting this morning, down at the plant. Do you want a ride to school, Amy?”

“Definitely.” Amy grinned and took several mouthfuls of her oatmeal, just enough so that her mother wouldn’t feel hurt. She swallowed, hating the taste which always seemed slimy to her, and then she pushed back her chair.

“That’s all you’re going to eat?” Amy’s mother looked very worried.

“I had enough, Mom. It’s a big bowl, and I’m not really that hungry.” Amy thought fast as she noticed her mother’s concern. “We’re having beef stew for lunch at school, and it’s my favorite. But thanks for making my breakfast. It was delicious.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” Amy’s mother looked pleased. “Do you want me to pick you up after school?”

“No, thanks.” Amy carried her bowl to the counter and washed it out before her mother could see that she hadn’t eaten very much. “I’ll catch a ride with one of the kids. And don’t worry, Mom . . . I’ll come straight home. I have to finish my homework before the basketball game tonight.”

Amy watched while her dad kissed her mom good-bye. It was a ritual they went through every morning, and Amy thought it was sweet. Her father never left the house without giving her mother a hug and a kiss.

“Come on, flower child . . . let’s go.” Amy’s dad picked up his briefcase and his keys and motioned to her. “You’d better put on full survival gear. It’s cold out there.”

Amy nodded and took her parka out of the closet. She slipped it on, stuffed her shoes in her tote bag, and pulled on her bulky warm boots. Then she picked up her book bag and turned to smile at her parents. “I’m ready, Dad. Bye, Mom. See you after school.”

Amy’s dad waited until they pulled out of the driveway, and then he turned to grin at her. “Dunkin’ Donuts?”

“Yes!” Amy grinned back. “I’ll run in if you park in front. What do you want?”

“A cinnamon bun that’s full of carbohydrates and cholesterol.”

Amy nodded. “I noticed Mom was reading a health magazine the other day. She’s got you on a diet again . . . right?”

“Right. She gave me one piece of whole grain toast, no butter. And a two-egg-white omelette with chopped broccoli.”

“She must have heard that broccoli was a cancer preventative.” Amy grinned at him.

“I guess so. I used to like broccoli, but we’ve been having it every day for the past week. Make sure that cinnamon bun’s dripping with gooey frosting, Amy. I wouldn’t want to go to work feeling deprived.”

Amy laughed and hopped out when her dad pulled up to the Dunkin’ Donuts shop. The inside of the shop was steamy, and it smelled incredibly good.

“Hi, Amy.” Mrs. Beeseman, who was working behind the counter, gave Amy a smile. “Has your mother got your dad on another one of those health-food diets?”

Amy nodded. “Broccoli, egg whites, and dry whole grain toast. He wants the usual, Mrs. Beeseman,