Monster High 01 - Monster High Read online

  Most of the students and teachers were standing on the tabletops, jabbing chairs into the air and grunting. Those brave enough to fight at ground level ripped at each other’s costumes, hoping to uncover any remaining perpetrators.

  “MONSTER!” Bekka screamed. “MONSTER! MONSTER! MONSTER!”

  The closer she got to Bekka’s screams, the more Melody overheard. It turned out the boy in this tragedy was Brett, and the headless girl wasn’t Bekka.

  Tracking the chaos, Jackson’s crackling hazel eyes moistened with panic. “Melody, I really should get out of here,” he insisted, holding the mini-fan to his face. A student running for the door knocked the fan to the floor, and it skidded across the gym. Jackson tugged Melody’s arm harder.

  “I can’t just leave Bekka,” she said, leading him through the chaos toward her horror-stricken friend.

  “Why? She’s not in danger,” he snapped.

  “Brett just cheated on her!”

  “Monster!” A spastic ghost slammed into Jackson, then took off.

  Four armed police officers burst into the gym, followed by a team of paramedics with a stretcher.

  “Lock up your boyfriends! They’re infiltrating. They’re trying to mate with our species!” Bekka shouted, kneeling beside Brett’s fallen body. She plucked a black thread off his finger and examined it closely.

  “Come on!” Melody gave Jackson a final tug toward the dance floor.

  Bekka stood up, her cheeks stained with tears, her hair cone at half-mast. “There you are! Did you see what happened? It was awful,” she said, sobbing.

  Melody wasn’t sure if Bekka was referring to the beheading or the cheating, but she agreed, either way, that it was awful.

  Haylee and Heath were giving their accounts to one of the officers while a paramedic waved smelling salts under Brett’s nose.

  He came to with a start.

  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” he began to scream.

  “He’s in pain!” Bekka called. “Help him!”

  They quickly gave him a shot of something that relaxed him into a blubbering baby.

  “Are you okay?” Bekka knelt at his side. “You thought that girl was me, didn’t you?”

  Brett circled his limp wrist and then giggled.

  “Brett! You thought it was me, right?”

  He looked at her, then burst out laughing. “What happened to your hair?”

  Bekka ignored his question in favor of her own. “She wasn’t wearing mango lip gloss! Didn’t that tip you off?”

  “Hey, Bekka wearsmangolipgloss,” he slurred. “D’you know Bek-ka? She’smygurrrrrrrrrl.”

  “I knew it, Officer,” Bekka said.

  “Actually, it’s Sergeant Garrett.”

  “That wasn’t a kiss, Sergeant Garrett. It was a brain suck. That’s what they do! They lure guys in and then drain their brains. You have to find her. You have to stop her!” She handed him the tiny thread. “Send this to forensics. It’s our only lead.”

  “I have my best officers going door-to-door right now,” he assured her, dropping the thread into a plastic baggie. “If there are any more nonhumans in this town, I’ll find them. Just like my grandfather did back in his day.”

  Jackson tugged Melody’s sleeve. “I should really go.”

  The paramedics lifted Brett onto the stretcher.

  “Where are you taking him?” Bekka asked.

  “Salem Hospital.”

  “I’m going with you,” Bekka insisted.

  “Are you family?” asked one of the paramedics.

  “I’m his bride.”

  Jackson peeled off his sweater. His pillow hump fell to the floor. “It’s getting sweaty in here! We should probably go.”

  “Melly,” Bekka called, scooting to catch up to the stretcher. “Haylee’s going to stick around and interview the witnesses. You head out and try and find that… thing. I’ll check in from the hospital.”

  “You want me to find it?” Melody asked incredulously. “You don’t actually think there’s a real thing out there, do you? It was a trick.”

  “That was no trick,” Bekka warned. “Once you find the monster, turn the information over to me, and I’ll take care of it.” She waved. “Be careful!”

  “How am I supposed to find an imaginary monster?” Melody asked Jackson.

  “I don’t know, but I need to get outside.” He pulled her arm.

  “Melody, where are you going?” Haylee marched over and set down her basket of bugs.

  Jackson tugged Melody’s arm.

  “I’m just going to get some air,” she explained.

  “There’s no time!” Haylee snapped. “You need to seize the beast!” She smacked her own head. “Crap! Of all the times to leave my camera in Mr. Madden’s car. I could have taken her picture so we could make posters.” She turned around and urged the few remaining students to hand over their cameras—at least she could document the scene of the crime.

  For such a petite girl, Haylee was quite a force.

  “Melody, come on!” Jackson tugged her arm again. “If they find out what I am, they’ll come after me.”

  “Why would they come after you? You’re not a…” She paused, realizing she had no idea what he was. Did descending from Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde really make him a monster?

  Haylee stomped back over to them. “Get moving! Melody, you have to come through for Bekka. She would do it for you. Friends first, remember?”

  Suddenly Melody felt like a Ping-Pong ball. Getting whacked from one side to the other with very little say in the matter. She wanted to be there for Jackson and for Bekka. But choosing one meant disappointing the other.

  “I know, but—”

  “Melody, let’s go!” Jackson tugged, his forehead drenched in sweat.

  “One second!”

  “Do the right thing,” Haylee advised before hurrying off to conduct her investigation.

  “Come on!” Jackson demanded through clenched teeth.

  Melody sighed. Confusion was swirling all around her. And now it was inside her too. The hand of regret smacked her across the face. Why had she left Beverly Hills? Why had she fixed her downward-facing camel nose? If she had still been Smellody, no one would be fighting for her. And she wouldn’t be in this impossible situation.

  Standing in the middle of an almost-empty gym, surrounded by torn costumes, smashed hors d’oeuvres, scattered chairs, and tables marred by boot prints, Melody froze like an overloaded hard drive.

  Jackson released Melody’s hand.

  She turned to him but couldn’t speak.

  His glasses were off, and disappointment filled his eyes. “You again?” He untucked the white undershirt from his jeans. “Why do you keep popping up? No offense, but you’re sooooo serious.”

  D.J. was back.

  “Where’s my Firecracker?” he shouted. “Fire-crackerrrr, where are youuuuu?”

  He lifted his palm to high-five Melody. “No offense, right? It’s just that there’s no music in this place, and I need something more… lively.”

  “I understand.” Melody high-fived him back and then waved good-bye. Instead of running after him, trying to protect him, or finding him a safe ride home, she watched him go. She let him go.

  Melody took a puff of her inhaler and then charged through the fog by the school doors. She had no idea how she was getting home. No idea who to save first. Best friend or boyfriend? Wasn’t that the eternal question?

  Outside, squad cars flashed their lights while police officers urged kids to get home quickly and safely. The wind blew in strong, short gusts, like an asthmatic trying to deliver an urgent message. It rattled the red party cups that littered the emptying parking lot, creating the ideal score for a campy monster hunt—something Melody would have appreciated had she not felt like the biggest monster of them all.

  “Need a ride?”

  Melody turned to find Candace emerging from the fog-filled doorway. Dressed in a black lace minidress, black glitter wings, and a head ful
l of black roses, she descended the steps with the grace of a Radio City Rockette.

  The draining feeling of adrenaline going back to wherever it came from slackened Melody’s entire body. Her limbs loosened, her heartbeat slowed, and her breathing stabilized. Her Scary Fairy godmother had arrived. “What are you still doing here?”

  “I couldn’t leave a scene like that without knowing you were okay,” Candace said, like it should have been obvious. “Besides, that was the most fun I’ve had since we moved here. Much more wild than any Beverly Hills High dance, that’s for sure.”

  Melody tried to laugh. “Let’s just go.”

  “Look.” Candace pointed at the white announcement board in front of the school. Someone had changed the black letters around, so instead of MERSTON HIGH, it now read MONSTER HIGH.

  “Ha!” Melody said, without laughing.

  On the short drive back to Radcliffe Way, Melody counted seven police cars whooshing by. The silent car stereo created a hush that was louder than any siren. Candace was the type to blast music even when her father asked her to move the car from the driveway to the road. She was doing what Glory did: smoking Melody out of her cave with silence, counting on the fact that the noise in her brain would become so deafening that she’d need to spill some of it out. And where better than the tranquil space they were inhabiting? It was an empty bowl just waiting to be filled.

  By the time they got to the top of their street, Melody started leaking. “Question.”

  “Yes,” Candace expectantly, eyes fixed on the dark street ahead.

  “Have you ever had to choose sides between a friend and a boyfriend?”

  Candace nodded.

  “Which side are you supposed to pick?”

  “The right one.”

  “What if they’re both right?”

  “They’re not.”

  “But they are,” Melody insisted. “That’s the problem.”

  “No.” Candace rolled slowly past a police cruiser. “They both think they’re right. But who do you think is right? Which side represents the thing you think is worth fighting for?”

  Melody glanced out her window as though she was expecting the answer to be revealed on a neighbor’s lawn. Every house except hers had its lights off. “I dunno.”

  “You do,” Candace insisted. “You just don’t have the courage to be honest with yourself. Because then you’d have to do the thing you don’t want to do, and you hate doing anything that’s hard. Which is why you gave up singing and why you have no life and why you’ve always been a—”

  “Um, okay! Can we get back to the part where you were sounding like Oprah?”

  “I’m just saying, Melly, what would you do if you weren’t afraid? That’s your answer. That’s your side.” She turned into the circular driveway and put the BMW SUV in PARK. “And if you don’t choose it, you’re lying to yourself and everyone around you.” She opened the door and grabbed her purse. “Oprah out!”

  The door slammed behind her.

  Melody sat back, enjoying the last bit of heat before the car cooled. She forced herself to see both sides. Not from Bekka’s or Jackson’s perspective, but from her own. Loyalty versus acceptance. With every second that passed, a little more warmth left the car.

  By the time Melody had reached her final decision, she was cold.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  FREAK OUT

  It smelled like life had stopped and all that remained were cold sterile instruments. Bright lights. Chemical solutions. Glass. Metal. Rubber surgical gloves. And something else Frankie couldn’t quite place… She tried to open her eyes, but her lids seemed locked. Her limbs, shackled. Her voice, muted. They say dogs can smell fear, so it must have an odor. Maybe that was it, then. She was smelling fear.

  Voices expressed it all around her. It spilled from their mouths like a sponge being squeezed.

  “It’s a witch hunt out there.”

  “I had two cops nosing around my attic for the last hour.”

  “Our lives are ruined.”

  “I don’t understand. How can you not notice your own daughter sneaking out of the house?”

  “You call that good parenting?”

  “I call it a danger to society, especially our society.”

  “And what about the normie boy? If he doesn’t recover, this will make national news.”

  “If it hasn’t already.”

  “I assure you,” Viveka said with a sniff, “we are devastated about this. And have just as much to lose as you do. Viktor and I will do everything we can to see that this never happens again.”

  “Never happens again? We have bigger problems. How do we deal with what is happening now? My Lala will need to have her fangs removed if this keeps up. Her fangs!”

  “Clawdeen and her brothers will need laser hair removal. Their pride will be shot. And with winter coming… they’ll freeze!”

  “At least you know where your kids are. Jackson hasn’t come home yet. Every time I hear a police siren, I have to breathe into a bag. What if they start rounding up suspects? What if they—” Ms. J burst into tears.

  “Everyone, please.” Viktor’s tone was low and weary. “While we accept full responsibility for tonight’s… mishap, keep in mind that we have more at stake than any of you.” He sniffed, and then blew his nose. “This is our daughter they’re looking for. Our daughter. And, yes, she did something irreparable, but she is the one being hunted. My baby. Not yours!”

  “Not yet.”

  “They’re looking for a green headless girl from a monster costume party,” Viktor said. “We can say it was a prank.”

  “Some prank.”

  “Viveka and I will do whatever it takes to make this go away. And we’re starting by pulling Frankie out of Merston. She’s going to be home schooled and forbidden to leave the house.”

  “I think you should leave Salem.”

  “Yeah!”

  “Agreed.”

  “Leave Salem?” Viktor boomed. “I thought this was a community! How dare you turn your backs on us after all we’ve—”

  “I think we’ve all had a long night,” Viveka jumped in. “How about we reconvene in the morning.”

  “But—”

  “Good night,” Viveka said.

  The computer hummed a final note and then shut down.

  “I can’t believe this is happening!” Viveka wept. “We can’t move. What about our jobs? Your research grant? Our home? Where will we go?”

  Viktor sighed. “I have no idea.” He taped the last piece of gauze to Frankie’s stitches, and then he dimmed the lights. “The good news is we have nothing left to fear.”

  “Why?”

  “Our worst nightmare just came true.”

  Frankie’s Fab door clicked shut behind them.

  Alone and semiconscious, she dipped in and out of sleep. But no matter what state she was in, she could not escape her overwhelming guilt for destroying so many people’s lives. In her dreams, the guilt presented itself in many forms. She was causing deadly avalanches, steering sinking ships, terrifying orphans, pushing her parents off a cliff, and kissing Brett with deadly scissor-lips.

  After each dream, Frankie woke with a start, soaked in tears. But she found no relief in the peaceful silence of her room, because there everything was real. And the guilt was too immense to bear. Each time she opened her eyes, she’d quickly shut them. And wish that she had woken for the very last time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  BEK AND CALL

  Melody’s finger hovered over the doorbell. Pushing it meant more than possibly waking some people up. It meant she had chosen a side.

  She pressed the button and stepped back. Her heart began to accelerate. She wasn’t afraid of the door that was about to open. Rather, the one about to close.

  “Who is it?”

  “Melody Carver. I’m a friend of—”

  “Come in,” said Ms. J, wearing a black chenille robe and clutching a balled-up tissue in her h
ands. She peered over Melody’s shoulder and then quickly locked the door with a chain. The back of her bob had been pulled into a squat ponytail, and mascara smudges marked her cheeks like Rorschach inkblots. Without her hard-edged Woody Allen glasses, she looked like a regular worried mom.

  Melody peeked inside the dimly lit home. The dark funeral-parlor-style furniture seemed to sag more than Melody remembered. Like there was sadness in its dusty fibers. “Is Jackson home?”

  She lifted the tissue to her lips and shook her head. “I was hoping you knew where he was. He should have been back already. And with everything that’s… I’m just worried, that’s all. It’s complicated.”

  “I know.”

  Ms. J smiled in appreciation of Melody’s sympathy.

  “No.” Melody touched the soft chenille sleeve of her robe. “I mean, I know about Jackson.”

  “Excuse me?” Her expression hardened.

  “I know what happens to him when he sweats. I know what he becomes, and I know why.”

  Ms. J’s hazel eyes became shifty. Like she couldn’t decide whether to club Melody over the head with a fire poker or run. “How? How do you know?”

  “He told me,” she lied. “But don’t worry.” Melody took her hand. It was cold. “I won’t tell a soul. I’m here to help. I’ll find him.”

  “Melody, you don’t understand what’s at stake if word about Jackson gets out. It’s more complicated than you know. More complicated than he knows. A lot of people could get hurt.”

  “You have my word.” Melody raised her right palm, ready to commit. Not because she had a crush on him. Or because his kisses woke her insides like a bite of chocolate cheesecake. But because finding Jackson meant saving him from himself, and the “self” was Melody’s greatest adversary as well. The boyfriend-stealing monster, however, was Bekka’s fight. And if “friends first” was truly her credo, she’d understand.

  Melody raced across the dark street to get her bike and a flashlight. Asking her parents or Candace for a ride would mean violating Ms. J’s trust. And she couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that. Finding Jackson and bringing him home safely was going to be her first big accomplishment. And it would have nothing to do with symmetry, noses, or being related to Candace. This rescue mission would show Melody what she was made of. As opposed to what Beau could make of her.