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money on this party,” Niki went on as if she had been reading his thoughts. “I wonder why she went to all this trouble?”
    â€œBeats me,” said Terry. “Maybe we’re her favorite charity.”
    â€œLucky us,” said Niki. “Still—I’d like to know more about Justine.”
    Terry laughed. Niki was the most naturally curious person he’d ever known. “Hey, Funny Face,” he said. “You can play Nancy Drew later. For now, let’s check out the refreshments.”
    He took her hand and led her to the side of the room. As Justine had said, the refreshment “table” was a shiny black coffin. It was covered with an appetizing array of cheese, bread, crackers, and various dips and hors d’oeuvres, including several Terry had never seen before. A shelf above the coffin held huge bowls of chips and platters of pizza—pepperoni, onion, sausage, and every combination Terry had ever heard of. Below all the food was a huge black cauldron packed with ice and dozens of cans of soda.
    â€œLook at this!” Terry said. “I’ve never seen so much food at a party.”
    â€œMe neither,” Niki agreed, “except maybe when my parents have their New Year’s party.” She reached for a cracker covered with something pink. “Yummy!” she said. “I wonder what it is.”
    â€œ Tarama salata ,” said Angela, who suddenly appeared beside her. She touched Niki’s shoulder and repeated the words so Niki could read her lips. “It’s a Greek dish made out of fish eggs. I asked Justine. She said she learned how to make it when she lived in the Greek islands.”
    â€œIt’s good,” said Niki thoughtfully. “Try some, Terry.”
    â€œFish eggs?” he said. “Thanks, anyway. I’ll stick with pizza!” He stepped back and eyed Angela’s costume appreciatively. She was dressed like a biker girl, all in leather, and had stenciled tattoos on her arms and neck. “Neat costume,” he said.
    â€œThanks!” said Angela. “You should see some of the others. This is definitely the most excellent party I’ve ever been to.”
    While Niki sampled something green with white swirls in it, Terry munched on pizza and surveyed the rest of the party. It was a little hard to see with all the shadows, but he could make out Trisha and David talking in a corner underneath a human skull. David was wearing his basketball uniform, only instead of a basketball he was holding a big, round papier-mâché skull.
    Trisha, her round face cheery and excited, was wearing a cheerleader’s outfit from the fifties, with a tight pink sweater and short white skirt over white ankle-length boots. She had a big megaphone in her hand, and would have looked ridiculous, except she was obviously having such a good time.
    In front of the fireplace Justine was dancing with Murphy: the vampire and the zombie. They looked gross, but also fascinating, like creatures out of a horror movie.
    Terry was just wondering where the last couple of kids were when he heard a strange noise behind him. He turned and gawked, then started laughing. He couldn’t help himself. It was Ricky Schorr, dressed as a frog.
    He was wearing bright green long underwear, a pair of swim fins, and had a half mask on top of his head with bulging black eyes. “Ribit,” he said.
    â€œI don’t believe this!” Terry finally said when he could breathe again. “You came as your biology project.”
    â€œYou like it?” said Ricky, taking a swig of diet Dr Pepper. “I dyed the underwear myself. My mom got kind of upset, though—she couldn’t get all the color out of her washing machine.”
    â€œI think it’s the real you,” said Angela nastily. “Sort of slimy and nerdy.”
    â€œOh, yeah?” said Ricky. “That shows all you know. If you kiss me—I’ll turn into