Dad passed Vince and went inside. “Abby, don’t be long.”
Vince leaned against the siding of his house, close to the garage. A pan of old oil made me wrinkle my nose. “It’s a good thing we didn’t kill Ned,” he said.
“That’s what I’ve been hearing, all morning.”
“Mom and Dad still think of him as their friend.”
I sat on the cement stairs of the front porch. I needed to get something straight right away. “Vince, we’re good friends, but I want you to promise me that if I ever become an undead monster, you won’t let your guilt keep you from killing me.”
Vince let that remark glide on by. “So,” said Vince. “How much trouble are you in?”
“Grounded. Home, school, skating rink. Big Mel is a hunter, we’ve been in witness protection, and we never noticed. I’m expected to involve myself in activities more suited to my age, and…”
“Yes?”
I inhaled. “They don’t want me to hunt monsters, Vince. Even though they do.”
He already knew. “Yeah. I’ve always thought it would be more like that.”
“Heaven help me, Vince, if you give me a whiff of ‘I told you so,’ I’ll—”
“This,” said Vince, “is why your parents are worried, right Abby? Your first reaction is offensive or defensive.”
I could concede that point, but wouldn’t do it aloud. I would say something angry, and prove him right. “You’d think my parents would be more realistic. They hunt monsters. Monsters hunt us. Don’t we have to be ready?”
“Maybe Ned could help us be more ready. He did help us out.”
Again, another point I didn’t want to concede.
Vince studied the cracked sidewalk. “I don’t want to be a monster hunter.”
There went my sidekick. Since he had cut me slack in the diner last night, I decided that I would not comment. “You don’t want to. I’m not allowed to. This whole thing blows chunks.” I stood up and dusted the front step off my pants.
I left my backpack in the hall as a diplomatic maneuver. The Coopers’ house always smelled like wet German Shepherd. “Hello,” I said as I entered the living room. In order not to frighten the parental specimens, I said it in the same tone you might use when talking a cat out of a tree.
Mr. and Mrs. Cooper sat on the couch across from Dad, who leaned toward them over toward the coffee table. Silence hung in the air, oppressive, like a breaking summer storm. I let the thunder rumble. “Hey. I just want you to know this was my idea. Not Vince’s.”
A muscle along Mrs. Cooper’s jaw tightened. “I told Charlie that he needed to get rid of those letters.”
“They were on the top shelf of the hall closet,” said Mr. Cooper. “He shouldn’t have found them.”
Adults thinking that kids were less resourceful than we are. Oh, the lies they tell themselves.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous what you did was?” said Mrs. Cooper. She was talking to Mr. Cooper, not me.
“Look, I’m sorry,” I said. “Vince is okay. Ned’s okay. We won’t do it again.”
Mrs. Cooper pronounced sentence on me. “I’m not sure you and Vince should be friends any more.”
“Nicole!” I appreciated Mr. Cooper’s protest.
“I understand your feelings,” said Dad. “There’s a lot of blame to go around. I hope you will give Abby a second chance. We will be making some changes.”
“Really?” Mr. Cooper asked.
“Yup. I’m going to be learning how to have compassion and be a normal kid!” I swung my fist across my body, all gung ho. “No more monster hunting for me!”
Dad stood up. “Abby’s mother and I will answer for any misconduct.”
“I don’t know...” said Mrs. Cooper.
I forced a broad smile. “Oh yeah,” I said. “Nothing to worry about here. Just us ordinary girls.”
Dad’s look would have leveled a city block. “As Abby says. Her short and brief career is over.”
“How about I come to the roller rink with you tonight,” Mrs. Cooper said, “just to be sure everyone’s safe?”
I nodded. “I promise I won’t get Vince into any trouble, or let Vince get into any trouble. You won’t be sorry.”
Vince met Dad and me in the hall. He’d obviously been listening. The wet German Shepherd, Tralfaz, bumped his nuzzle into my hand. At least he still liked me. “That went well,” Vince said.
“Handle your parents with care,” said Dad. “They need a little care right now.”
“Yes, sir.”
I chewed my lower lip. Vince looked better than me in front of my dad. Perfect old Vince. Psychotic old Abby. Tralfaz licked my hand. Trusty old Tralfaz.
CHAPTER FOUR
Roller Rink of the Damned
Big Mel’s Skateway in Glendale was the preferred Saturday night destination. If you were a happening middle schooler, you would see or be seen there. It was one of the few places in the universe where my Wolcroft life met my friends-with-Vince life. I mentioned earlier that I go to an all girls school. It’s a myth that girls who go to all girls school don’t know boys. I know boys. I can’t see what all the fuss is about, but I can identify one in a lineup.
Mrs. Cooper gave us our space once we got there. She hooked up with the other escorts on the sidelines of the rink close to the snack bar. That was good. I was expecting hovering and the evil eye. I was sure I was getting the evil eye anyway, but from a distance I could pretend things were more normal.
Vince pulled out his sneaker skates and took off his shoes. “Should we ask Big Mel about the whole monster hunting thing?”
“Are you trying to get us grounded for life?” I tied my laces. “Honestly, Vince, I have to appear to be less interested in all this.”
“Appear
