Devilish. Maureen Johnson

      

Copyright

      First published in hardback in the USA by G. P. Putnam’s Sons,

       a division of Penguin Young Readers Group in 2006

      First published in paperback in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2012

      HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,

      1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      Copyright © 2006 by Maureen Johnson

      Published by arrangement with Razorbill, a division of Penguin Young Reader’s Group, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

      Maureen Johnson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins ebooks

      Source ISBN: 9780007484515

      Ebook Edition © JUNE 2012 ISBN: 9780007479931 Version: 2017-02-01

      Dedication

      For J.W. Keeley, my little piece of hell on earth,

       and my friend for all eternity. And Mr. Jones, wherever he may be.

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      Copyright

      Dedication

      Prologue

      two weeks earlier…

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 27

      Chapter 28

      Chapter 29

      Chapter 30

      Chapter 31

      Chapter 32

      Chapter 33

      Chapter 34

      Chapter 35

      Chapter 36

      Chapter 37

      Chapter 38

      Chapter 39

      Chapter 40

      Chapter 41

      Chapter 42

      Acknowledgments

      Jack the Ripper returns…

      Bedlam breaks free…

       About the Publisher

      So this was how it ended. The revelers had deserted, leaving plates of Spanish almonds and sushi and cupcake wrappers. Now there would be no more grand ballrooms with Assyrian kings and pampered dogs and English pop stars and the A3. No more midnight rides through the skies of Providence. No more Calculus II with Brother Frank. No more stolen moments with 116-year-old boys or staring at the golden brick mansion across the fields. It had come back to this mad room of antique perfume bottles and disagreements.

      Only a handful of people would understand the real meaning of this event. The general public would be horror-struck. They would wonder how two best friends, two otherwise unassuming girls on the verge of adulthood, could have ended up like this. There would be new specials and magazine articles: ‘Teen Tragedy Stuns Providence,’ ‘Rhode Island Rampage.’ I would be cast as the brainy troublemaker — the angry little blond punk. Allison would be portrayed as my sweet, devoted friend — the one I had tricked and mislead and taken down this tragic path. The real villain would not appear in the stories at all.

      Oh, I had no doubt that they’d blame the whole mess on me, probably just because I had spiky hair and a tendency to talk too much. That was the story of my life. And that life was over.

      It doesn’t matter how old you are when you die, I’d been told. When you die, that’s the right time for you. I’d also been told my life was a small price to pay.

      I was glad to pay it for Allison.

      My hand fell away from the phone. The room grew dark and I felt myself slipping down the side of the sofa, down to the prized Oriental rug. This was my final move in the game, this graceless thud to the floor. There was only one question left in my mind…

      Had I played it right?

      two weeks earlier…

      The reviews from the Junior Judges had gone up on the website in the middle of the night. This was how they described me:

      JARVIS, JANE; CLASSROOM 2A: If you are trying to find Jane Jarvis, look down. Jane is the shortest person at St. Teresa’s, the littlest big. But that tiny body contains a huge brain. We must give this to her. Famously argumentative — we all remember fondly Jane’s impromptu speech during last year’s ‘Celebration of the Spirit of Womanhood’ assembly, when she openly debated with the visiting bishop about the rights of women in the church. We like a little less her brittle, bleach blond spikes. A retro no-no in our book. If you are the angry, brainy type, consider Jane. She can be your personal Yoda.

      Nothing new there. I went right on to Allison’s. The first word struck me, and it was all downhill from there:

      CONCORD, ALLISON; CLASSROOM 1A: Forehead first…Allison Concord has a showstopper. We have never seen anything quite like it. It’s kind of like an unused billboard or a makeshift landing strip at a small midwestern airport. Sexy. Comparable only to her gums, which are truly a sight to behold. The pinkest smile we’ve ever seen. She is best known for counting down