“Ummm…” Lucy reached for a pierogi.
What was there to say? I’ve spent the last month trying to track down the members of a mysterious race of cryptozoological shapeshifters known as the Pretenders. They live hidden amongst the unsuspecting populace of Sticky Pines and are susceptible to the effects of Mr Fisher’s sinister pine sweetener Nucralose. In order to protect them I can’t reveal the Truth to anyone: not Tex, not my parents, not even Milo Fisher, who hates me because he doesn’t understand why I had to lie about what we saw. I will remain in unrelenting agony until I solve the unfathomable mysteries of the universe. Can you please pass the ketchup?
It was all true, of course. After Lucy had witnessed her English teacher, Mrs Stricks, and her wife transform into monkeyflippin’ OWLS, she was left with nothing but questions. What were they? Aliens? Witches? Transdimensional shamanistic warriors? What did they want and how many of them were there?
Over the past few weeks, Lucy had been working alone to answer these questions. Unfortunately, Mrs Stricks had taken a sudden sabbatical, leaving a substitute teacher in charge of all her English classes. Neither she nor the Other Mrs Stricks would answer the door to their cabin, despite three straight hours of sustained knocking. Many of the other people Lucy hoped to investigate were inaccessible, mostly because she didn’t know where they lived: Carlos Felina, the handsome weatherman, Steve Kozlowski, her father’s bandmate, and Alastair Chelon, a factory worker. And then there was Mandy Millepoids, the owner of the local candy store. The last time Lucy had tried to enter Mandy’s Candies, she’d encountered a locked door with a sign that read: “Pulling Taffy, Be Back in Ten Minutes”. She waited for over two hours before giving up, going home and rage-screaming into her pillow.
“These are delicious, Mrs Arkhipov.” Lucy blew on her pierogi before taking another bite.
“Do you think anyone will know what our costumes are?” asked Tex. He stroked his glued-on goatee.
“Not a chance,” Lucy laughed.
“At least we have each other,” Tex winked.
They clinked pierogi.
Pop music was blasting as Tex and Lucy scoped out the snack situation in the Pelusos’ kitchen. The majority of the partygoers were out talking, dancing or standing awkwardly by the bonfire in the backyard.
Tex and Lucy each grabbed a handful of candy from a bowl on the countertop.
A pair of girls approached, one dressed as a bee, one as a witch. Both costumes included short skirts, for some reason.
Jaime and Amy, the bathroom twins.
“Are you supposed to be a Klingon?” asked Jaime, the brunette bumblebee.
“She is a Bajoran,” Tex corrected her. “I am a Klingon.” He pounded his chest for emphasis.
“Those are aliens, right?” Amy flicked her long blonde hair over her witchy shoulder.
“Obviously,” said Jaime. “It’s Lucy and Tex. That’s, like, all they think about.”
Jaimie’s dad worked at the Nu Co. factory, where Lucy’s father had recently been promoted to manager.
“Are there any eighth-graders here?” Lucy asked, casually unwrapping a piece of taffy.
“Why?” said Jaimie. “Looking for Milo Fisher?”
“Of course she is,” Amy jeered. “She’s, like, obsessed with him.”
“I’m not obsessed,” Lucy scowled.
Jaimie whispered something in Amy’s ear, and the duo giggled.
“Never mind.” Lucy grabbed Tex, who was picking the green M&Ms out of the candy bowl, and directed him out of the kitchen. “When I find Milo, I’ll let him know you think he’s the hottest guy in school,” she called over her shoulder.
“What!?” Amy’s face turned bright red. “No!”
Lucy smirked triumphantly.
“Fish is the hottest guy?” Tex popped his fake teeth back in his mouth. “What am I, chopped liver?”
“You are what you eat,” said Lucy.
Tex froze when they reached the living room. “Oh. My. Sandwiches.”
“What?” asked Lucy, looking for Milo.
“That schnoodle Joey got the new Nintendo.” Tex looked like he’d just stumbled upon the holy grail of happiness.
Resignedly, Lucy patted him on the arm. “It was nice knowing you.”
Tex lumbered across the Persian rug, zombie-like, towards the flat-screen TV.
Feeling vaguely abandoned, Lucy stepped through the sliding-glass door into a cloud of burning wood, roasting wieners and pre-teen desperation.
Sticky Pines Elementary and Middle School (SPEAMS) had students all the way from kindergarten up to the ninth grade. There were at least three different class years present at Joey’s party, all of them Upper. Quite a coup for a seventh-grader.
Lucy realised with a start that her and Tex’s costumes were far more elaborate than anyone else’s. At least mine entails a leather jacket.
Milo was by the bonfire, wearing a royal-blue suit and tie that brought out the colour of his eyes. On his lapel a patriotic badge read “It’s morning in America!” He was laughing with a couple of eighth-grade soccer players in prison stripes that Lucy knew by reputation only.
She steeled her nerve and strode over. Milo’s smile faltered.
“Hey, Fish,” she said.
“Lucy,” he responded coolly.
A girl in a Zorro mask ran over, yelled, “Assassin!” and threw a water balloon at the tallest athlete’s back, drenching everyone in the vicinity.
“No fair!” yelled the victim. Laughing, both athletes chased after her.
“That game just gets funnier every time they do it,” said Milo, deadpan. He shook water from his sleeve.
Have you forgiven me yet? thought Lucy. “What are you supposed to be?” she said instead. “A politician?”
“Clearly.”
“Which one?”
“Do you know any politicians other than the current president?”
“No,” Lucy admitted.
“I didn’t think so.”
Lucy fidgeted with her dangly earring. “What’s, uh…” I need to tell you the Truth. “What’s that red mark on your cheek?” There are shapeshifters in Sticky Pines. Your dad wants to find them all and dissect them! “Is it part of your costume or did someone egg your face?” That didn’t come out right.
Milo glared at her. “Excuse me. I have to go to the restroom.” He marched off towards the house, bumping past a mulleted theatre kid strumming a mandolin.
Deflated, Lucy slumped on to a log by the fire next to a girl roasting a marshmallow.
“Brutal,” said the
