Gina Damico - Croak

Copyright 2012 by Gina Damico

Map illustration copyright 2012 by Carol Chu

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Damico, Gina. Croak / by Gina Damico. p. cm. Summary: A delinquent sixteen-year-old girl is sent to live with her uncle for the summer, only to learn that he is a Grim Reaper who wants to teach her the ISBN: 978-0-547-60832-7 [1. DeathFiction. 2. Future lifeFiction.] I. Title. PZ7.D1838Cr 2012 [Fic]dc23 2011017125

Manufactured in the United States of America

DOC 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

4500341976

For Mom, Dad, and Lisa.

In exchange for years upon years of supporting my nincompoopery, I offer you this simple, heartfelt dedication.

Call it even?

Lets kick off this shindig with a Titanic-size thank-you to my rocktastic agent, Tina Wexler. Simply put, none of this would exist without you and your steadfast kickassery. Youve breathed life into my work, loved my characters as if they were family, and read more emails, drafts, and misguided tangents than I can shake a scythe at. Thank you so, so much for seeing a spark and sticking it out with me.

To my editor Julie Tibbott, who finds the humor in board games, gentlemanly named roosters, and death-related puns and is therefore a rare, treasured find. Thank you for your encouragement, collaboration, and adoption of my merry band of misfits. Thanks also to Michael Neff and the New York Pitch Conference for giving me the kick in the pants I so dearly needed.

To my parents, for their unflagging love in all its forms (encouragement, money, eye-rolling). Mom, thank you for reading to me from day oneit made all the difference. Dad, thank you for keeping bookstores in business.

To my sister, Lisa, whose refusal to be killed by the Lego I fed her when she was a baby made me rather angry at the time but now pleases me greatly, as I cant imagine life without her.

To my big, awesome Italian family for always sending good thoughts and good eggplant parm my way. And to the in-law clan, for coming with a pre-established YA fan club.

To every single member of the Committee for Creative Enactments at Boston College between 2001 and 2005: You are the reason I started writing. Hands down. I adore you more than any drunken Baggo words can say, and I thank you dearly. Profigliano!

To Brittany Hotpants Wilcox, for the countless Red Lobster dinners, and Allison Nickname Unprintable DOrazio, for agreeing with me in thinkingnay, knowingthat sad trombones are the funniest things on earth.

To the Onondaga County Public Library for publishing my very first work when I was five years old, a story about dead rabbits that, in retrospect, makes a hell of a lot more sense now. Also, huge thanks to all libraries and librarians everywhere. Keep at it.

Other invaluable contributors include Azadeh Ariatabar Brown and her bitchin website skills, TVGasm, and everyone at all the jobs Ive ever had, even that crappy temp one. Thanks also to milk, Australia, whoever invented the DVR, The Simpsons, Kurt Vonnegut, Jack Bauer, Toby the wee computer, and, finally, Utz Cheese Balls, for being both delicious and packaged in massive, heart-disease-inducing buckets.

To Big Fat Lenny Cat: your unconditional enthusiasm for anything having to do with me is so appreciated, even if you are roughly the same weight and shape of a bowling ball. To Carl, the other cat: youre okay too.

To my husband, Will, whose adamant insistence that I not get a real job and instead pursue these writing shenanigans is the very reason this is an actual book and not some forgotten, scribbled notes on the back of a crossword puzzle. Thank you for not hurling me out of the house every time Ive asked you to read the newest revision. Sooo much.

And finally, to you, dear reader, for picking up this book! Theres no way you could have known that it was rigged with explosives, but since it would be disastrous to put it down now, enjoy!

Lex wondered, for a fleeting moment, what her principals head might look like if it were stabbed atop a giant wooden spear.

I cant imagine why youre smiling, young lady, Mr. Truitt said from behind his desk, but I can assure you that there is nothing funny about this situation. How many of your classmates must end up in the emergency room before you get it through that head of yours that fighting on school property is strictly forbidden?

Lex yawned and pulled the hood of her black sweatshirt even farther over her face.

Stop that. Her mother pushed it back to reveal a messy head of long black hair. Youre being rude.

Im in an awkward position here, the principal continued, running a hand through his greasy comb-over. I dont want to expel Lex. I know you two are good parents; Cordy is practically a model student! He paused and eyed Lex for a moment to let this sink in, hoping to maybe guilt the wicked girl into obedience. Her face, however, remained stony.

But when it comes to Lex, I dont see any other choice in the matter, he went on, frowning. Im sorry, but the list of scars that my students have sustained at the hand of your daughter grows longer each week. Poor Logan Hochsprings arm will forever carry an imprint of her dental records!

You bit him? Lexs father said.

He called me a wannabe vampire, she said. What was I supposed to do?

Oh, I dont knowmaybe not bite him?

Lex zoned out as her parents once again launched into the traditional practice of begging Mr. Truitt for just one more chance. She had heard it so many times by now that she could even mouth the words in certain places, with a little Shes just troubled, you see sprinkled with a dollop of Its probably just a phase and closing, of course, with the ever-popular Itll be different this time, you have our word. Lex stuck a slender finger into her mouth and fished around until she found a small blond hair. She pulled it out of her teeth with a quick snap, the memory of Logan Hochsprings startled cries of pain ringing through her ears.

Very well, Mr. Truitt finally said, standing up. One more chance. With only a week left in the school year, I can hardly justify an expulsion. He shook her parents hands with a meaty paw, then regarded Lex with a smile. Perhaps a summer away will do you some good.

Lex hissed.

As she was yanked out to the parking lot, however, the principals cryptic farewell began to trouble her. And something about the way he had smiledthe way doctors beam at children right before jabbing them with tetanus shotsfelt very ominous.

What did he mean, a summer away? she asked.

I knew you werent listening, said her mother. Well talk about it over dinner.

Cant wait, Lex said as her father shoved her into the back seat, taking note of the adorable way he attempted to engage the child safety lock without her noticing.

***

Lexington Bartleby, age sixteen, had spent the last two years transforming her squeaky-clean, straight-A life into that of a hooligan. A delinquent. A naughty little rapscallion, as it were.