Math was super boring, but I wasn’t half bad at it. Marty, however, was super good at it. There were some things I couldn’t figure out, so I was glad I had Marty to shine the light of knowledge on those problems.
“You multiply the stuff in these parentheses first, and then you add it to this number.”
“I know that,” I said. I willed myself to concentrate. Enough with the stupid mistakes already.
Coral stopped by our table. Not a hair out of place, not a mark on her anywhere, not even a chip on her nail polish, which was school uniform blue.
“Let’s go Marty,” said Coral. “I need your help with math.”
Marty folded up her books pronto.
“Marty,” I said. I did not like the way this was looking. “You can stay here if you want to. You don’t have to do what Coral tells you.”
“Sorry, Abby,” said Marty. “I gotta go.”
All the girls in the room, except for me, were looking at Coral like groupies or zombies, or groupie zombies. Groubies? Zompies?
“Marty,” I said, “what gives?”
Marty glanced at Coral, back at me, and hesitated. “I just gotta go, Abby.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Not cool, Coral. Mind-controlling Marty is not cool.”
Coral shook her head. “You don’t get it. You aren’t it anymore.”
“It?”
“Best athlete, smartest student, class clown every wants to know. You’re out. I’m in.”
Marty wouldn’t look at me.
“You might not know this about me,” I said to Coral, “but I eat people like you for breakfast.”
“What?”
“Mind control.” I cocked my head for emphasis. “That’s what’s going on. That’s why Vince is googly for you. You’ve got the whole school thinking I’m untouchable. Why are you doing this?”
“You’re crazy. Seeing monsters everywhere? Of course you do! Maybe that explains why you are now the most unpopular girl at this school. I am the best field hockey player, the best student, the limbo queen. No one wants to be near you. Not even Marty. Who can blame her? You boss her around, make her feel like she doesn’t matter.”
Right. Limbo queen. “You’ve made a big mistake. You’ve taken me on. You’re going down.”
“I don’t think so. Look at you. If I say one more thing to you, you’re going to blubber like a baby.”
Now I was mad. “You’re a supernatural creature in my town dinking with my friends. Not on my watch.”
“I know your parents won’t let you out to monster hunt after nine o’clock. Don’t you have a date with detention?”
I gathered up my books and held my head high. Why was it that the idea of slaying Ned hadn’t phased me, but I hated this, being on the outs at school?
When Dad picked me up from detention at five p.m., I asked if I we could stop to see Mr. Christopher.
“No, Abigail. We are going right home.”
“Dad, it wasn’t my fault. It is diabolical mind control.”
Dad took his eyes off the road for a second. “I’m listening.”
“I’m not sure how Coral’s doing it. I’ll ask Mr. Christopher a few questions, and I think I’ll figure it out.”
Dad punched the call button on the wheel of our car. Only hands free calling for my monster hunting parents. There’s dangerous and there’s stupid.
My mother’s voice sounded. “Polly,” said Dad.
“Reginald.”
“Normal girl training is postponed for a moment.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” I asked.
“Only when you’re not around to hear it,” said Mom’s voice.
“It is diabolical mind control,” said Dad, like he was discussing the grocery list. “Abby has told me about it, and not acted rashly. She wants a consultation with Lee.”
“I’ll meet you there. I need to tell you what I’ve found out today anyway. See you soon.”
Dad pressed the off button.
“Mom’s been investigating the mall vampire thing, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll bet Coral’s got something to do with it. Dad, she might be a vampire.”
“How do you know that?”
I enjoyed my sense of the dramatic, and raised a finger. “I learned something really cool at school today. I figured out a missing piece.”
There was an expectant pause.
“Nope,” I said. “Not a peep until everyone is together.”
“You are your mother’s daughter,” he said.
Nope. I was my father’s daughter. He’d used the dramatic pause in countless movie reveals. Dad used his key to let us in Mr. Christopher’s front door. The sun wouldn’t be down for an hour, but Mr. Christopher would be having breakfast. We won’t talk about what he was having for breakfast. Let’s just say he was a frequent flier at one of the local blood banks.
Mom was sitting in one of Mr. Christopher’s wingback chairs. The room was decorated with leather furniture and antiques that had taken a lifetime to acquire. Not too much in the way of clutter, but the room was defined by expense and taste at the same time. Except for the movie posters, which were well-framed, but were still B-movie posters.
“He’s still waking up,” Mom said. She motioned me over. I stood close to the chair, checking out a poster for The Entanglement of the Mummy, in which Mr. Christopher surprisingly didn’t play the mummy, but the archaeologist. “Detention again?”
“Hear me out, Mom. Coral has mind-controlled the entire school, except for Mrs. Lester and a couple of other girls who might be resistant. I don’t know how she’s done it yet, but I’ll figure it out.” I pulled my notebook out of my backpack. “I’ve been running a few tests, and plan to run a few more.”
“Well.” Mom adjusted her glasses. “If your father hadn’t already been suspicious of Vince’s recent behavior, I might think you were trying to wriggle out of trouble. But we just had a vampire at the mall,
