The Invitation
By Diane Hoh
3.5/5
()
About this ebook
For the high schoolers of Greenhaven, Cass Rockham’s fall party is the social event of the year. Each October, students wait by their mailboxes, praying for the gilt-edged invitation that grants entry into the inner circle of the most popular crowd. And now Cass has planned her finest party yet, with a new sauna, a hot band, and no parents for miles. But to make this party really killer, Cass tops it all off with a sinister twist. Nerdy Sarah Drew is shocked when she and her friends receive invitations to Cass’s affair. For years she’s steered clear of the popular kids, and now they want her to come to their party? Sarah is wary, but her friends talk her into coming with them. But she regrets it quickly, for at Cass Rockham’s mansion, the only party favor is death. This ebook features an illustrated biography of Diane Hoh including rare photos and never-before-seen documents from the author’s personal collection.
Diane Hoh
Diane Hoh (b. 1937) is a bestselling author of young adult fiction. Born in Warren, Pennsylvania, Hoh began her first novel, Loving That O’Connor Boy (1985), after seeing an ad in a publishing trade magazine requesting submissions for a line of young adult fiction. After contributing novels to two popular series, Cheerleaders and the Girls of Canby Hall, Hoh found great success writing thrillers, beginning with Funhouse (1990), a Point Horror novel that became a national bestseller. Following its success, Hoh created the Nightmare Hall series, whose twenty-nine installments chronicle a university plagued by dark secrets, and the seven-volume Med Center series, about the challenges and mysteries in a Massachusetts hospital. In 1998, Hoh had a runaway hit with Titanic: The Long Night and Remembering the Titanic, a pair of novels about two couples’ escape from the doomed ocean liner. She now lives and writes in Austin.
Read more from Diane Hoh
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Reviews for The Invitation
26 ratings1 review
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5middle school & upSarah and her friends have just been invited to THE party of the year by Cass Rockham. The weird thing? Sarah and her friends are total losers who Cass never even speaks to. Things only get weirder once they arrive. Cass coerces them to play a rigged game of musical chairs. Each time someone loses they are escorted away and they don't return to the party. Sarah is pissed when she discovers her and her friends have only been invited to be a part of the "entertainment." They are the hidden objects in a scavenger hunt and someone is not playing by the traditional rules.This is an enjoyable story. It is pretty good with the suspense although the reveal isn't nearly as twisty as it tries to be. There are a couple of red herrings thrown in here and there just for good measure. I did like how the sense of wrong built throughout the story. You know immediately that something is wrong about the party but at first it seems fairly normal. Popular kids picking on the loser freaks. It isn't until one of them is kidnapped from her hiding place that it becomes clear that something is really wrong. I did really like the fact that two of the girls managed to rescue themselves. Always a plus. The scavenger hunt aspect was fairly lame, but I think it was supposed to be.All in all: a good read.
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Book preview
The Invitation - Diane Hoh
The Invitation
Diane Hoh
Contents
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
A Biography of Diane Hoh
Chapter 1
THE INVITATIONS WERE READY.
Twin towers of stiff, cream-colored envelopes stood sentry on the heavy antique desk in the sitting room next to Cassandra Rockham’s powder-blue bedroom. The guest list, a single sheet of lined yellow paper, lay beside the ivory towers. A vivid red checkmark stabbed each name.
Cass leaned back lazily in the brown leather chair and stretched her legs, in buttery-soft suede jeans, lifting them until her booted feet rested on the shiny surface of the desk. Her thick, glossy black hair curved around her ears, brushing against her soft, pale cheeks. Her dark lashes flickered as she regarded the finished list with satisfaction.
One of her father’s secretaries would seal, stamp, and mail the messages. In a day or two, selected mailboxes throughout the town of Greenhaven would announce Cass Rockham’s annual Fall Party.
The best party.
The biggest.
The most important.
The lucky invited guests would be smiling, relieved to learn that they were still in.
The unlucky ones … Cass shrugged carelessly. Who knew what the unlucky ones did when their mailboxes yielded only a handful of bills and a circular or two from discount stores?
It wasn’t her fault some people just didn’t belong at her parties.
Cass narrowed her chestnut-colored eyes in amusement as she pictured disappointed faces peering into mailboxes.
That’s what people got for thinking she would add them to her list. Didn’t she always invite the same people?
She grinned wickedly. Well … almost always.
It was weird, though, how there were always a few losers at school who would pass her in the hall after the invitations had been delivered and give her that dumb, nervous little look of hope, as if they thought she might not have known their address and intended to hand-deliver their invite.
They would actually slow their steps to give her the time to give it to them.
Sometimes, when she was in exactly the right kind of mood, she slowed her steps, too, relishing the way that tiny budding hope in their eyes sprang into full bloom.
Then Cass would smile broadly and hurry away, feeling completely guiltless. She couldn’t help it if people were gullible sometimes.
Now that the invitations were ready to spread their joy throughout Greenhaven, her party plans were all set.
The band, the best in five counties, had been signed for months. The caterer specialized in teen parties and knew better than to show up with trays of quiche or pâté or watercress sandwiches. The household staff had been busy for weeks, polishing and vacuuming every inch of the three-story white mansion. The heated pool sparkled, the acres of fall flowers and velvety lawns were immaculate, and the new Swedish sauna, a cedar hideaway in the woods near the stables, was finally fully operational.
The black strapless stretch dress, which her father had teasingly told Cass looked like a large belt, hung in its plastic bag in one of her closets. Her parents were packing for their thirty-day excursion to the south of France. They weren’t the kind of parents who believed in chaperoning teen get-togethers. They were cool. They’d be gone before the party.
Everything was set. Everything was falling into place, as it always did for her parties.
Cass reached out a smooth white hand and tapped one of the creamy towers with a scarlet fingernail. A sly smile played at matching scarlet lips.
But this party would be a little bit different from the others. Besides dancing and eating and swimming, playing video games and maybe using the new sauna, there would be something new and interesting this year to entertain her guests.
Smiling to herself, Cass stood up, adjusted the rolled-up sleeves of her peach silk blouse, and with one last satisfied glance at the twin towers on her desk, left the room.
As the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind her, the towers teetered for a moment, then toppled over. The crisp ivory envelopes tumbled forward, landing one at a time on the smooth, slippery surface of the desk. A few skated to the edge and over it, floating without a sound to the thick vanilla carpet below.
One card fell a couple of inches beyond the others, settling itself against the chair’s leg.
The name and address on it were clearly visible.
In elegant script written with gold ink, the following guest was about to be invited to Cassandra Rockham’s Fall Party:
Miss Sarah E. Drew
278 Valley Cove Drive
Greenhaven, New York
Chapter 2
ON A HOT AUTUMN afternoon two days later, Sarah Drew stood on the tiny front porch of her family’s squat yellow house surrounded by a neat but unhealthy-looking lawn. She stared, open-mouthed in shock, at the crisp ivory card lying unfolded in the palm of her hand. She was a thin, pretty girl, in khaki shorts and a white T-shirt, with hair the color of beach sand pulled into a thick French braid on her neck. Sarah frowned as she scanned the fine gold engraving for the third time.
It had to be a mistake. Cass Rockham held a big, semiformal party every October. That gave Her Royal Richness
time enough to cross off her invitation list any old friends who might have picked up bad habits over the summer. It also gave her time to cultivate any new and suitable
arrivals at Greenhaven High School.
The only new arrival this year, as far as Sarah knew, was Shane Magruder. And Shane wasn’t rich enough, popular enough, or important enough to make Cass’s guest list.
But then, Sarah told herself, neither am I. So what is this invitation doing in my mailbox?
Balancing the packet of mail in one hand, Sarah opened the front door with the other. All those parties Cass had held at the mansion up on the hill, and never once had Sarah Elizabeth Drew been invited. Never once had she expected to be. Never once had she wanted to be on that guest list. As far as Sarah was concerned, Cass Rockham and her entire hill crowd
were completely unnecessary to the planet. Who needed them?
Not Sarah Drew.
So what was this invitation with the fancy gold printing doing in her hand?
The telephone in the kitchen shrilled. Probably her mother, calling from work to give instructions for dinner.
Dropping her backpack and the handful of bills and circulars on the worn tweed sofa, Sarah hurried into the small white kitchen.
She had barely said hello when Eleanor Whittier’s voice began shrieking in her ear.
Sarah! Sarah, is that you? Sarah, you’ll never believe this, not in a zillion years! I’ve been invited to Cass’s party! Can you believe it? Sarah, did you hear me?
All this spilled out of Eleanor without a single breath.
Sarah, her sandy brows furrowing, pictured Ellie in her pale yellow bedroom. Ellie’s tall, broad body had to be quivering with excitement. It didn’t take much to excite Ellie. Her blue eyes in her round, cheerful face were probably as shiny as the ocean on a sunny day, her cheeks pink as a sunset. She was probably clutching the invitation with an iron grip, afraid that it might suddenly leap out of her hand and scamper for the door.
Ellie didn’t receive that many invitations. Only Sarah, Donald, Maggie, and now Shane had gotten to know the kind-hearted person behind the plain, honest face. How many times had Ellie gone out of her way to drive one of them home in lousy weather, loaned them notes from a class they’d missed, comforted a broken (or at least dented) heart? Too many times to count.
Ellie was a good friend to have. But her name didn’t show up on that many guest lists. No wonder she was excited.
Ellie’s voice gushed on, a waterfall of happiness. I can’t believe it! I mean, Cass smiled at me in the hall the other day, but I never thought—
Ellie, calm down,
Sarah interrupted. I got an invitation, too, which I, personally, think is extremely weird. There’s something funny going on here, if you ask me.
The voice in Sarah’s ear became even more excited. You got one, too? That’s great! That’s fantastic! Oh, jeez, Sarah, what am I going to wear? I don’t have anything pretty. What are you wearing?
Sarah’s straight, sparsely freckled nose wrinkled in distaste. "Me? Are you kidding? You know how I feel about that crowd. I said I was invited, Ellie. I never said I was going."
Sarah heard nothing but a shocked silence at the other end of the telephone line.
Envisioning the horrified expression on Ellie’s face, Sarah laughed. Look,
she said, sinking into a wooden chair at the round kitchen table, it’s probably a mistake. One of Mr. Rockham’s secretaries must have goofed and invited the whole junior class by mistake. Cass will probably have her fired. Maybe killed.
A mistake? Oh, no!
In the second place,
Sarah said into the disappointed silence, I have something important planned for that night.
She glanced down at the invitation, still in her hand. A week from Saturday, I’m cleaning Rover’s bird cage.
That’s not funny!
Ellie scolded. Her voice held both disappointment and irritation.
Sarah felt as if she’d kicked a puppy. When was the last time Eleanor Whittier had had any reason to be this excited? It was her sister, Ruth, a thin, pretty senior who led the active social life Ellie yearned for.
I’m sorry, Ellie,
Sarah apologized. But I have to be honest about this. If this is a mistake, it’ll just hurt you more to get all freaked out about it and then be crushed.
You don’t know it’s a mistake!
The words held a plea, begging Sarah to be wrong. "Cass could have invited us."
Oh, sure,
Sarah snapped, annoyed by Ellie’s naked need to attend Cass’s stupid party, and there’s going to be a flood in the Mojave Desert tomorrow at noon.
Weren’t they all okay without the friendship of Cass Rockham? Didn’t she and Ellie, Maggie, Donald, and Shane have fun on their own? So they weren’t a part of the hill crowd. So what? They had fun, didn’t they?
I’m going to call Donald,
Ellie said stubbornly, and see if he got an invitation, too.
Sarah’s front doorbell rang. You do that. Somebody’s at the door. I’ll call you back. ’Bye.
Shaking her head as she replaced the telephone, Sarah got up and hurried through the dim, cool house. She passed her violin, lying in its case on the dining room table. Her guilty conscience imagined the instrument crying out to her, Hey, Sarah, what’s the big idea? It’s almost three-thirty!
Every weekday for the past eight years, Sarah had practiced violin from three-fifteen until six-fifteen except