Shocking Pink. Erica Spindler

      “What music?” Andie asked, rolling onto her side to check the time on Raven’s bedside clock.

      “You know, from the other night. That was coming from the empty house.”

      Andie saw that it was time to go home and make sure the twins were in bed. She sat up and began collecting her things. “It wasn’t coming from the empty house. Remember? We decided.”

      “But I heard it again,” Julie offered. “The other night, when I was walking Toto. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

      “You’re weird,” Raven said, tossing a pillow at her. “Music coming from empty houses? Wouldn’t surprise me if you suddenly claimed you were abducted by little green men. And that they’re great kissers.”

      “They are.” Laughing, Julie tossed the pillow back. “Great kissers!”

      Next thing Andie knew, a feather pillow hit her square in the face, knocking her back onto her butt on the bed. With a squeal of surprise, she grabbed a pillow, scrambled to her knees and swung.

      It was war. Each girl swung until her shoulders ached, they laughed until their sides hurt so bad they could hardly breathe. Raven was, as always, the last to call “Give!” and as she took her final shot, her pillow split and feathers flew.

      A half hour later, smiling to herself, Andie made her way across Raven’s yard and into her own. As she shimmied through a bare place in the row of oleander bushes that separated the two properties, a car passed, music pouring out of its open windows.

      Andie stopped, listening as the sound faded quickly away, remembering what Julie had said. She had heard that strange music again. On her quiet little street.

      Andie didn’t know why that suddenly seemed wrong to her. She didn’t know why it felt so … ominous. But it did. Prickles crawled up her arms and she rubbed them. Silly, she told herself, starting off again. She was being silly.

      Just because other sounds weren’t carrying for blocks, just because the same music had been heard twice, seeming to come from someplace it shouldn’t, that didn’t mean anything weird was going on.

      But what if it did? The prickling of goose bumps returned, this time racing up her spine, all the way to her hairline. What if their imaginations weren’t running away with them and someone really was in one of those empty houses?

       5

      “I’ve been thinking about what Julie said the other night, about hearing that music again,” Raven murmured, two nights later as the three girls sat on Andie’s bed, an open Cosmo and a half-dozen bottles of nail polish between them, all shades of pink, from pale to shocking. “It just doesn’t seem right to me.”

      Andie reached for one called Blush. She painted her thumbnail, then blew on it. “I was thinking the same thing. Hearing it twice like that, that’s got to be more than a coincidence.” She held out her hand to inspect her nail, then frowned. “Why do you suppose girls always wear pink?”

      “That’s just the way it is,” Julie said, inching her glasses up to the bridge of her nose. “Girls are pink, boys are blue.”

      “I suppose.” Andie decided she didn’t like the shade and reached for the polish remover.

      “Guys—” Raven made a sound of impatience “—what if somebody is in one of those empty houses?”

      Andie looked at her. “Why would they be?”

      “Why indeed? That’s the question.”

      Julie glared at them. “You guys are creeping me out. Stop it. I’ve got to live there.”

      “Exactly.” Raven sat up. “I think we should check it out.”

      “Now?” Julie held out her hands. “My nails are wet.”

      “Your dad’s going to make you take it off anyway.” Raven looked at her friends. “What else do we have to do?”

      “Nothing, I guess.” Andie looked at Julie. “What do you think?”

      She shrugged. “Okay by me. I’ve got to be home in an hour anyway.”

      After telling Andie’s mom they were going over to Julie’s house, the girls headed outside. They took the shortcut, angling through several backyards, dodging a particularly vicious Doberman pinscher, dragging Julie away from a couple of guys they knew who were shooting hoops in a driveway, reaching Julie’s street within minutes.

      They went to the end of the cul-de-sac and gazed at the four dark houses.

      “This is so exciting,” Andie whispered. “What if we actually discover something?”

      Julie giggled nervously. “I’ll pee my pants, that’s what.”

      Andie glanced at Raven. “Which one do you think the music was coming from?”

      Raven considered the houses a moment, squinting in thought. They were all dark; their windows eerily empty. All four had For Sale signs in the yard, two of them still sported the builder’s signs. The one-story ranch houses were modest in size, though equipped with all the latest appliances, conveniences and colors. Though the lots weren’t large—not as large as those in Phase I—the developer had taken care to leave as many trees as possible. The big shade trees gave the appearance of a richer, more established neighborhood.

      “That one,” Raven said finally, pointing to the one farthest left. “It’s the most secluded. There, next to the empty lot. And look—” she pointed “—that streetlight’s out. If I was up to no good, that’s the one I’d want to be in.”

      The other two girls murmured their agreement and fell into step behind Raven. Darting glances in every direction, they crept around to the back of the house. Julie poked Andie in the back, making her jump. “Boo,” she whispered, giggling.

      Andie brought a hand to her heart and scowled at her friend. “Stop that. You about gave me a—”

      “Shh.” Raven held up a hand. “Listen.”

      Andie did, heart thundering. A moment later she leaned toward Raven. “I don’t hear anything.”

      Julie put her head close to theirs. “Me neither.”

      Raven grinned. “Gotcha.”

      “Very funny.”

      “Thanks a lot.”

      Raven laughed softly. “Come on.”

      They crept to the first window and peered in. The room beyond—it looked as if it was supposed to be a bedroom—was empty. They made their way to the next window, then the next, finding the same thing. An empty laundry room, breakfast room, kitchen.

      Then they hit pay dirt. A chair. A single, high-backed, wooden chair, the kind you’d find at a desk or dining table. Only there was no table or desk, no television, lamps or anything else in the room.

      It looked strange, parked there, a sort of centerpiece. Andie tipped her head. No, not a centerpiece. A kind of audience to an empty stage.

      Andie shivered. “This is the one. I’ll just bet.”

      “Me, too.” Raven turned to Julie. “Are you sure no one bought this house?”

      “Positive.” She rubbed her arms. “My mom was talking about it with Mrs. Green just a couple weeks ago. All four of these houses are still available. Mrs. Green was really weirded-out about it, ’cause there’s a chance Mr. Green’s going to be transferred and she’s afraid they won’t be able to sell.” Julie sucked in a deep breath. “Besides, the For Sale sign is still in front.”

      “What now?” Andie whispered. “A few pieces of furniture doesn’t mean some ax murderer has taken up residence in an empty house.”

      “Let’s