“First things first. Coral?”
Graceful as a reed on a riverbank, Coral floated to vertical by her desk. “Hello. My name is Coral Petrova. I’m from Portland. I’m looking forward to studying here.” She floated back down. A dozen pairs of eyes followed her movement.
You know, no girl should look that perfect, move that perfectly. The Abigail Rath of last Friday night would have decided she was a monster, at least a siren or something.
To be honest, the Abigail Rath of Monday still thought she might be. Everyone’s reaction to both her and her brother was to be spellbound. I mean, I was impressed with William, and I’m not impressed with boys in general. However, I had just been read the riot act, and I was supposed stay out of the monster game. If these two were supernatural creatures, I would let it ride, because they were nice. Or, if they were supernatural and I had proof, I would call my parents, which was lame, but would keep me out of trouble.
I knew they weren’t vampires. Vampires have to sleep in a coffin during the day, right? I leaned my head on my hand, propped up by my elbow, and Mrs. Lester began our test review. Loss of Electrons is Oxidation. Gaining of Electrons is Reduction. To remember, all you have to say is LEO says GER. I know! Pretty advanced stuff, right?
On Wednesday after detention, I shouldered my bookbag and headed out into the fading light. Mom waited in the car for me. I clambered into the front seat.
“Is your homework done?”
“Of course.”
“It’s just you and me tonight,” she said. “We’re going to the mall.”
Last night, after a disastrous attempt of Mom trying to paint my nails, I had this idea that I would make my mother pay for ordinary girl training. I would buy fashion magazines and fawn over pictures of women and super models. She would hate me. How ironic those activities would have been playing right into her hands after all.
“Okay,” I said. “Everything’s beginning to make sense now. You would never have punished me for Ned, except I’m in an alternate universe where you want to go to the mall.”
Mom navigated the car onto the street. “I thought you’d want to buy some new clothes. Girls like to buy clothes, right?”
I couldn’t believe my mom taking me to a mall for shopping. Because my mom? Total fashion plate? Not so much. We’ve already talked about her strangle bun and her glasses on a chain. I’ve seen my mother’s neck once in my whole life. She’s always wearing a high lace collar or a turtleneck. And tweed? Both my parents have punch cards at the Monster Hunters House of Tweed, which isn’t a real place, but if it were, punch cards.
I heard the mall is full of Technicolor clothing. I’ve seen some of the things girls wear at the roller rink. For me, jeans and a t-shirt usually do everything I want them to if I’m not in a school uniform. I have some monster hunting gear that emulates what Mom and Dad wear, but that’s more for dressing up, rather than dressing down. Nothing off the shoulder. Nothing in lime or orange. Nothing tight or low cut. None of that stuff.
I don’t think my mother realized what was at the mall.
“Mom, are you sure about this?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, have you thought this through? What it’s going to be like at the mall?”
We macheted a swath onto the freeway. Traffic was thick. We’d be out here for an hour, and we’d go about five miles, another reason not to go to the mall. “What’s it like, Abby?”
I smiled. “There are going to be a lot of people at the mall. By people I mean teenagers.”
Mom blended the car into traffic like a tributary into a river. “Are you implying I can’t handle teenagers?”
“No. It’s just that I’m not a typical teenager.”
“You can say that again.”
“I meant I’m easy on you.”
“How soon they forget.”
“I am. I’m not loud. I’m not shallow. I don’t go in for fads.”
“Nothing the average mall teenager does can top what you did last week.”
“All righty then. Trying to look out for you is all.”
Mom’s brilliant plan was we would snag dinner at In-N-Out Burger, and then we would hit a couple of stores. I would buy some clothes. Her treat. She would feel like she had done a normal mom thing. She climbed the parking ramp with grim determination. To be frank, I was a little scared of her.
The first obstacle was parking at the Glendale Galleria. We climbed higher and higher up the parking ramp. My mother’s jaw worked and I clutched at the cloth seat. After a couple of near accidents, we parked and clambered out of the car into the concrete garage.
The mall was a temple of light compared to the gloominess of the concrete garage. My mother blinked. She was not about to admit culture shock. People swarmed all over the place, on the plastic chairs eating stuff identifiable in the vaguest sense as food, in front of stores, sitting on benches, leaning on railings. Two captured indoor birds flew past.
“Well,” said my mother, her tone a bit too bright, “dinner then. Maybe there are some fun shops nearby?”
We both looked at the monolithic kiosk, the map diagramming the locations of major stores, and areas marked with letters. We were in area E.
“Um...” I scanned the list of stores. We were close to Sanrio and In-N-Out, but I didn’t think I was the kind of person who would consider shopping at Hot Topic. My mom wasn’t the kind of person who would take me for burgers either. She was really making an effort to turn me into a teenager.
Here’s where my mother could have used a reality check. At thirteen years old, raised by my parents, interested more in Von Frankenstein over Versace, how would I know about what stores were any good? For Mom, I had to try.
I took a pamphlet from the kiosk, and let Mom navigate me through the crowd as we went to In-N-Out, her steering arm growing more and more tense on my shoulder. That’s how, after we’d ordered our food and sat down, I opened a gambit. Around a French fry hanging from my lower lip, I said, “How’s about Macy’s?” Macy’s floated giant balloons at Thanksgiving. They were cool, right?
Mom latched onto Macy’s like a woman clutching a life preserver. “Yes! They have clothes there. We’ll do that!”
Across the restaurant sitting at a table were William and Coral Petrova. They were enjoying In-n-Out burgers in a very normal, good-looking person kind of way.
William smiled at me as he and Coral walked across the dining room.
“Hi Abby,” Coral said. “How are you?”
“You know,” I said. “Good.”
“Shopping?”
“With my mom,” I said. Look, I know it’s not cool to say you’re hanging out with your parents, but I like my parents because they are cool. I wasn’t about to get all fidgety because someone caught me with a parent.
“Abby,” said Mom, “Maybe your friend has some recommendations on where to shop?”
“I doubt it, Mom. She just moved here from Portland.”
Coral laughed. “We have stores in Portland. I have bought clothes in them.”
William smiled at me. “Hi, Abby.”
Cue the slow romantic rock song in my head. “Hi, William.”
“Abby?” said Mom. “You know a boy?”
“Mom,” I said. “What is Vince?”
“I’m Coral Petrova. This is my brother William.”
I hadn’t introduced them. Like a dork. Get a little flustered by sparkly Austin Von Trapp and your manners go right out the window.
“Nice to meet you,” said Mom. “Coral, where do you buy your clothes?”
“Oh, there are some really cute shops here.”
Goodbye safe and secure Macy’s. Hello, neon spandex.
After we finished dinner, we set out. Mom, hands clenched behind her back, walked in front, talking to Coral. William and I fell back a tad. “Thanks for helping Coral fit in at Wolcroft,” William said.
“I’m only being nice to her to make her feel secure. Saturday I will lower the boom a
nd beat her at limbo. I’m really a very manipulative person.”
“Oh, me too.”
We dodged a couple of little kids who had gotten away from their parents. “What brought you here from Portland?” I asked.
“Mom wanted to move closer to family. She’s originally from Los Angeles. She used to attend Wolcroft, so that’s where Coral went. No private school for me, though.”
“Where’d you learn to skate?”
“Coral and I always went to the rink at home.” William rubbed his chin. “Vince tells me you like horror movies?”
I shrugged. “Some.”
William’s eyes twinkled. “Me too.”
“Really?” I was skeptical. Let’s see what this guy knew.
“Universal original Dracula?”
“Made in 1931. Stars Bela Lugosi. And there’s a rat that’s really a opossum.”
“Okay, but that was pretty easy. Satanic Rights of Dracula.”
“Hammer Studios. Made in 1958. Stars Christopher Lee, not to be confused with Anvil Studio actor Lee Christopher, which may or may not be his real name.”
“Better.” I was going to have to challenge William seriously. “Lucifer’s Gladiators?”
He shot off the stats like a staccato machine gun. “Made in 1990. Your dad was the chief centurion. The makeup for the demon-possessed Gaius Lucien took five hours. Lucifer was one of the first completely computerized characters.”
I whistled and stuck out my hand. He shook it, a self-satisfied grin settling on his lips.
We stopped in front of a store with jeans and off the shoulder shirts called Adorable. Technopop blasted out the front. Mom glanced about the store. She grabbed something and held it up. “What do you think, Abby?”
It was hideous. The sleeves were like drifting handkerchiefs. The rest of the shirt was a clingy fabric covered with purple flowers. “I don’t think this is me.”
Coral disappeared into the store while I fended off Mom’s attempts. No wonder her wardrobe was so conservative! She had no idea how to do this.
Coral wandered up with a couple of tops. One was an elaborately printed t-shirt, dark purple with lavender scrawling. The other was longsleeved with a couple of frills down the front. Thank goodness, both were acceptable to me and Coral, and William gave a thumbs up to the one with the frills down the front. Coral’s fashion sense was spot on, and Mom and I made the purchase in a brusque, no nonsense manner. Mission accomplished. Mall visit, with minimal pain to me, and likely an object lesson for Mom she didn’t want to do this again ever. Normal girl lessons had turned into normal mom lessons. She didn’t like it any better than I did.
Coral, William, and I bought Orange Juliuses. Or Orange Juli-i, which I think is the right plural. Mom waited for us by the railing indulging in a giant Godiva chocolate coated strawberry, which seemed to sooth her taut nerves.
“Let me pay for that,” said William at the Julius booth.
No independent woman would have let him.
“Thanks,” I said. What was wrong with me?
“I was wondering,” said William, “Sometime maybe we could do something? I hear Kaplan Kone is opening this weekend. Would you like to go?”
“Can’t. Got a busy weekend.” The truth was Vince and I were already meeting at Kaplan Kone. We were going to have our first hot fudge banana splits of the season. Or I was going to have a marshmallow shake. I love marshmallow shakes. I really did want to go with William, but this was a tradition with me and Vince. It would not have been cool to change it.
“Okay,” William said. “Well, maybe a movie sometime?”
“You betcha.” I took a swig of Julius. You never drink Juliuses with a straw. It’s not done.
I turned around to check on Mom. She was chatting with Mr. Cooper and Vince who had appeared from the throng of shoppers. Coral, William and I dodged shoppers and made our way over to them.
“Hi,” said William.
Vince did the cool appraisal thing boys sometimes do. He looked like he didn’t approve of me and William and the Juliuses, though he was pretty smiley at Coral.
“Don’t usually see you here,” said Vince.
I thumbed in Mom’s direction. “A whim,” I said. “Coral helped me find these awesome tops, so there’s that. You?”
Vince held up a bag from Game Stop. “Dad had Irreverent Evil 6 on order. So you’re not on a date?”
“Unless I’m on a date with Mom, no.” I had read about the phenomenon of male posturing, and I’d seen it in the movies, of course, but I never thought I’d see it from Vince. What was his problem?
“Hi, Vince!” Coral lit up the already brilliant mall with her extra whitened teeth.
Vince straightened and pulled in his tummy. “Hello, Coral.”
Now it was my turn to get all posture-y. “Vince, don’t forget our trip to Kaplan Kone Saturday.”
“Oh,” said William. “That kind of busy.”
“You can still go?” said Vince. “I thought that was off after last weekend.”
“Not that kind of busy,” I said to William. “It’s our tradition. A friendly tradition.” I emphasized the word friend. “Vince, normal girls eat ice cream, so it’s still on the agenda.” I figured Mom or Dad would come, because we were going all the way to Santa Monica Pier, but otherwise it would be okay.
“Whaaa?” Coral looked from me to Vince to William.
I had to give Coral some intellectual points for the whaa?. I wouldn’t have been able to follow our conversation as an outsider either.
“Maybe William and I could join you guys?” Coral continued. “At the ice cream place?”
“Sure,” said Vince.
“No,” I said. Kaplan Kone had been a sacred friendship ritual since we were in second grade. Vince had just let other people cut in. Not cool. I wouldn’t let William in our date, and he knew a whole bunch about horror films.
“Why not?” said Vince. “It’s the nice thing to do.”
“Since you’re going to be there anyway,” said William, “can I come?”
“Fine,” I said. I threw up my hands. “Fine.”
Vince was looking all moony at Coral. Nice. Throw over your ordinary best friend for a pretty face. That kind of stank.
I cleared my throat. Vince didn’t even look at me. I smiled at William, the exaggerated thing you do when you’re trying to forget how annoyed you are. “Excuse me.”
“We’ve taking off anyway,” said William. “See you Saturday.”
“Yeah,” I said. I gave William a quick peck on the cheek. “See you Saturday.” William puffed up. I glowered at Vince, had a quick word with Mom, and was on my way to the restroom. I knew Vince’s eyes were burning into me as I walked away. Good.
The mall had narrow windy tunnels which led you behind the stores to the facilities. A high mirror perched near the ceiling so walkers could see what was coming toward them around the corner. I felt like I could punch Vince, but I thought I shouldn’t. I didn’t want Mom thinking that I couldn’t control my violent tendencies.
In the restroom I splashed water on my face. I had to face facts. We were all getting older, me, Marty and Vince. Who was I to tell Vince that he couldn’t be interested in Coral? Sure, she was too thin and had too many teeth, but if that was his type, there wasn’t much I could do about it.
I took a deep breath, washed my hands, and headed out. Coming around the corner, I saw the fight in the round mirror. Vince was being Vince-handled by a corpsy vampire with long skinny fingers, pasty skin and no hair. This little guy looked like a short version of Noseratu from the 1922 silent film. Nosferatu Junior, just about as ugly as William was good-looking, with snaggly teeth, pointy ears, and buggy eyes.
The corridor was empty except for the three of us, which struck me as a freaky supernatural thing.
I pulled my cross out from my backpack and stealthed away from the mirror’s view, hugging the smooth wall. If Nosferatu Junior weren’t so intent on Vince, he would have noticed me. Close
proximity to Vince meant my primary objective was to drive the vampire away. “Get back!” I yelled.
It turned. Glittery yellow eyes, the kind that catch the light, flashed in my direction. Nosferatu Junior hissed like an angry cat.
Then Vince slapped the creature under his chin. It sizzled. The vampire chittered away from Vince toward the bathroom and me. It turned misty and barreled over my head. I ducked. It zoomed past a grandma and her two grandsons, who ran for cover. I gave chase zigzagging down the corridors, up to the fire door and watched the thing dissolve into mist and go under it to the outside. I didn’t think fire doors had gaps, but I guess I was wrong.
With only a second’s hesitation, I slammed the emergency door open. This wasn’t going to win me any points with Mom. However, chasing after Vince’s monster attacker was the only thing to do. If my parents didn’t agree, I’d run away from home.
The alarm trumpeted, and then as the door closed, I found myself in a quiet alley. A dark, quiet alley, like in all the horror films. I surveyed the roof. In loads of horror films, the heroes or heroines forget they should look up, and I wasn’t about to be divebombed by Nosferatu Junior.
Someone did, as it turns out, jump down from the roof. I brandished my cross. “Stay back!”
“Geez, Abby.” Ned shielded his head with his hands and looked away. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing at the mall?”
“What are you doing at the mall?” Ned shot back.
“Protecting Vince from a vampire attack.” I moved forward with the cross. “What are you doing here?”
“Vince? Is he okay?”
“I asked you a question.”
“It wasn’t me!” said Ned.
I lowered my cross and deflated. “I suppose not. I’ve seen you drac out. You don’t become a Nosferatu. Just now, you could have cleaned my clock.”
“You aren’t as dumb as you look. Okay. I think I followed that. A vampire that attacked Vince? Short and ugly?”
“Like a goblin nightmare.”
Ned grabbed me around the waist.
“What are you doing?”
“Keep the cross away from me, okay?” We flew, taking the Ned-o-vator up to the roof. Down in the alley, mall security poured through the fire door, scoping out the ground, peering behind the dumpsters. Ned had saved my bacon from another misunderstanding.
Abigail Rath Versus Bloodsucking Fiends Page 7
