Lisi Harrison - Monster High

Copyright 2010 Mattel, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

MONSTER HIGH and associated trademarks are owned by and used under license from Mattel, Inc.

Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Poppy

Hachette Book Group

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Poppy is an imprint of Little, Brown and Company.

The Poppy name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

First eBook Edition: September 2010

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

ISBN: 978-0-316-12683-0

Alphas

Movers and Fakers

The Clique

Best Friends for Never

Revenge of the Wannabes

Invasion of the Boy Snatchers

The Pretty Committee Strikes Back

Dial L for Loser

Its Not Easy Being Mean

Sealed with a Diss

Bratfest at Tiffanys

The Clique Summer Collection

P.S. I Loathe You

Boys R Us

Charmed and Dangerous: The Rise of the Pretty Committee

The Cliquetionary

These Boots Are Made for Stalking

My Little Phony

For Richard Abate: my loyal friend, brilliant agent, fellow gum-chomper,
and tireless brainstormer. Thank you times a billion.
F.U.P.M.

Frankie Steins thick lashes fluttered open. Flashes of bright white light strobed before her as she strained to focus, but her eyelids were too heavy to lift all the way. The room went dark.

Her cerebral cortex has been loaded, announced a man, his deep voice a blend of satisfaction and fatigue.

Can she hear us? asked a woman.

Hear, see, understand, and identify more than four hundred objects, he replied, delighted. If I continue filling her brain with information, in two weeks shell have the intelligence and physical capabilities of a typical fifteen-year-old. He paused. Okay, maybe a little smarter than that. But shell be fifteen.

Oh, Viktor, this is the happiest moment of my life. The woman sniffled. Shes perfect.

I know. He sniffed too. Daddys perfect little girl.

They took turns kissing Frankies forehead. One of them smelled like chemicals, the other like sweet flowers. Together, they smelled like love.

Frankie tried to open her eyes again. This time she could barely make them flutter.

She blinked! the woman exclaimed. Shes trying to look at us! Frankie, Im Viveka, your mommy. Can you see me?

She cant, Viktor said.

Frankies body tensed at the sound of those words. How could someone else decide what she was capable of? It didnt make sense.

Why not? her mother seemed to ask for both of them.

Her battery pack is almost drained. She needs a charge.

So charge her!

Yeah, charge me! Charge me! Charge me!

More than anything, Frankie wanted to see these four hundred objects. Wanted to study her parents faces while they identified each object in their kind voices. Wanted to come to life and explore the world she had just been born into. But she couldnt move.

I cant charge her until her bolts finish setting, her father explained.

Viveka started to cry, her gentle sobs no longer sounding joyful.

Its okay, sweetie, Viktor cooed. A few more hours and shell be completely stable.

Its not that. Viveka inhaled sharply.

Then what?

Shes so beautiful and full of potential, and it She sniffed again. It just breaks my heart that shell have to live you know like us.

Whats wrong with us? he asked. Yet something in his voice suggested that he already knew.

She snickered. Youre kidding, right?

Viv, things wont be like this forever, Viktor said. Times will change. Youll see.

How? Whos going to change them?

I dont know. Someone will eventually.

Well, I hope were around to see it, she said, sighing.

We will be, Viktor assured her. We Steins tend to live long lives.

Viveka giggled softly.

Frankie desperately wanted to know what about these times needed to change. But asking became unimaginable as her battery drained completely. Feeling both light-headed and impossibly heavy at the same time, Frankie floated deeper into the darkness, settling in a place where she could no longer hear the people around her. She could not recall their conversation or smell their flower- and chemical-scented necks.

All Frankie could do was hope that by the time she woke up, that thing Viveka wanted to be around to see would be there. And if it wasnt, that Frankie herself would have the strength to get it for her.

The fourteen-hour drive from Beverly Hills, California, to Salem, Oregon, had been total Gitmo. It went from road trip to guilt trip in less than a minute. And the torture didnt let up for nine hundred miles. Faking sleep was Melody Carvers only escape.

Welcome to bOre-egon, her older sister mumbled as they crossed the state line. Or should I call it snOre-egon? How about abhOre-egon? Or maybe

Thats enough, Candace! her father snapped from the drivers seat of their new BMW diesel SUV. Green in both color and fuel efficiency, it was one of the many overtures her parents had taken to show the locals that Beau and Glory Carver were more than just great-looking wealthy transplants from the 90210.

The thirty-six preshipped UPS boxes filled with kayaks, sailboards, fishing poles, canteens, instructional wine-tasting DVDs, organic trail mix, camping gear, bear traps, walkie-talkies, crampons, ice picks, cobra hammers, adzes, skis, boots, poles, snowboards, helmets, Burton outerwear, and flannel underwear were just a few more.

But Candaces comments became even louder when it started to rain. Ahhhhhh, August in pOre-egon! Candace sniffed. Aint it grand? An eye roll followed. Melody didnt have to see it to know. Still, she peeked out through barely opened lids to confirm.

Ugggggh! Candace kicked the back of her mothers seat indignantly. Then she blew her nose and whipped the moist tissue at Melodys shoulder. Melodys heart beat faster, but she managed to hold still. It was easier than fighting back.

I dont get it, Candace continued. Melody survived fifteen years breathing smog. One more wont kill her. She could wear a mask. People could sign it, like they sign casts. Maybe it would inspire a whole line of accessories for asthmatics. Like inhalers on necklaces and

Enough, Candi. Glory sighed, obviously exhausted from the monthlong debate.

But next September Ill be in college, Candace pressed, not used to losing an argument. She was blond, perfectly proportioned, and used to getting what she wanted. You couldnt wait one more year to move?

This move will be good for all of us. Its not just about your sisters asthma. Merston High is one of Oregons top schools. Plus, its about connecting with nature and getting away from all that Beverly Hills superficiality.

Melody smiled to herself. Her father, Beau, was a celebrated plastic surgeon, and her mother had been a personal shopper to the stars. Superficiality was their master. They were its zombies. Still, Melody appreciated her mothers ongoing effort to keep Candace from blaming her for the move. Even though it kind of