by Perdita Finn
“She’s right!” Cleo agreed. As a royal princess, she spent a lot of time getting her hair done. “Nothing makes someone open up like sitting in a salon chair.”
“But ghouls…” Clawdeen protested. “Where would the salon even go?”
A flash of lightning lit up the sky. It gave Frankie an amazing idea. “I know! The abandoned power station where I used to hide. It’s the perfect spot for such a voltageous idea.”
Clawdeen was overwhelmed. “This is all happening so fast. What if I’m not ready?”
“You’re ready!” all the ghouls said at the same time. It was true. She was. Didn’t she already have a sketchbook full of fashion and hair designs? She looked down at her pictures and thought about all the time she’d spent dreaming of her own salon. It was what she really wanted, wasn’t it?
“Okay, let’s do this,” agreed Clawdeen, taking a deep breath. “Let’s turn the power station into a fierce salon.”
The ghouls cheered and waved their arms. Everyone hugged Clawdeen. They placed their hands one over the other and took a vow together. They were going to do this. Making Clawdeen’s dream come true was a way to help monsters everywhere!
The lightning flashed again, but no one saw the pale face of a Zomboy peering in through the skylight. He’d heard everything. He groaned.
Chapter 7
LIGHTBULB MOMENTS
The lights flickered on and off at the abandoned power station, but no one noticed. And no one heard the sound of chain saws and electric drills from within. The noise of the storm and the flashes of lightning kept what was happening there a total secret.
“Those ghouls are coming here?”
A Zomboy, dripping wet with rain, stood in front of Moanica. He mumbled and grunted.
“To turn this power station into a salon?” Moanica fumed. Her hands were scrunched into tight fists.
“Uh-huh,” confirmed the Zomboy, his mouth flopping open.
Other Zomboyz were hurrying here and there, giant pieces of equipment in their outstretched arms. They were tinkering with generators. They were unraveling huge bolts of wire. They were sticking metal objects into plugs and shocking themselves over and over again…which was okay, because they were zombies.
“Ugh.” Moanica sighed. “I’m kind of in the middle of a pretty outstanding scheme here.” She gestured behind her. A Zomboy was up on a ladder hitting a pipe with a hammer. Another was dangling from a ledge by his hands, about to fall.
The Zomboy groaned apologetically.
“No, it’s not your fault,” said Moanica, holding her head in her hands. “We’ll think of something.” Which she did in less than a second. She turned to her minions. “Pack it up, Zomboyz! We’re moving this party underground. Where zombies belong.” She let out an evil cackle and stormed out of the power station, slamming the door behind her.
By the time the sun had risen, all signs of her work with the Zomboyz had disappeared.
It was a new day.
The sun was out and the birds were chirping when Frankie brought her friends to check out the location for Clawdeen’s salon. She opened the doors triumphantly.
Cleo looked at the vast space filled with old, broken equipment. “Hmmm,” she said uncertainly.
Draculaura wasn’t convinced it was a good choice, either.
“It looks nice.” Lagoona tried to be optimistic. Some broken equipment fell beside her. “It looks like I should be wearing a hard hat.”
“I know, I know,” agreed Frankie. “It may not look like much now.” Still, she loved this old place. She’d spent a lot of time here before she came to Monster High, dreaming about having friends…and now she did.
“It’s perfect,” Cleo interrupted her. She had been walking around examining the space like a director. “I can see it now. Reclining lounge coffins in the waiting area here, a row of styling chairs with crystal skulls over there. And in that corner—wait for it—fog machines!”
Cleo unraveled a long bandage from her arm and began using it as a measuring tape. She stared at the large generator box, but the moment she touched it, sparks flew out of it. She ducked as a huge jolt of electricity shot across the room. It just missed Lagoona.
Cleo pointed at the glowing generator. “We should probably do something about that.”
“It’s going to take a lot of work to get this place ready,” agreed Draculaura. “You sure you can do it, Cleo?”
“My family built towering pyramids that have stood for eons. Trust me: I can do this.” The ghouls had never seen her so excited.
Clawdeen wasn’t worried about the space, but she was anxious about the hairstyles and fashions that she was designing. She couldn’t think about anything else.
When they arrived back at Monster High, Clawdeen was already panicking. She went straight back to the art studio, where she spent her every free moment. She’d pinned sketches all over the bulletin board, and there were bolts of fabric on the tables. Sketches were strewn across the floor. She had cut out patterns, and there were bits of clothing draped over various mannequins.
“No, no, no, no, no,” she muttered to herself. She was unhappy with everything. She crumpled up a sketch she’d been working on. She pinned a ribbon to a dress on a mannequin. It looked terrible. She groaned. “Wrong. All wrong.” She dumped a trash can over the mannequin’s head.
She started drawing again, but soon she got frustrated and slammed her hand against the easel…and it fell over. Like a domino, it knocked over everything in the studio—the other easels, the chairs, the mannequins.
It was just too much pressure! How was she going to impress the humans? Everything depended on that. “I can’t do this!” she cried out.
“Everything okay in here, sweet pup?” It was her mother, checking up on her.
Clawdeen sighed. “I’m designing looks for the salon’s big opening night. But nothing is good enough!”
Mrs. Wolf picked up a long strip of green fabric that was hanging off one of the mannequins. “What about this one? This is good.”
“Mom! That’s just a sleeve!”
“Well, it’s a very nice sleeve,” she reassured Clawdeen before patting it back into place.
Clawdeen groaned. “You don’t understand. When we open for the Normies, everything has to be incredible. What if nobody likes what I do?”
Clawdeen plopped down on a pile of discarded wigs. She was completely discouraged. Mrs. Wolf settled in beside her daughter. She tried to comfort her. “Clawdeen, being creative is hard. You have to open up your heart and show it to all the world. Painful, yes. But joyful too.”
Tears welled up in Clawdeen’s eyes.
“I believe in you,” continued her mother. “You just need to believe in you too. You can’t rush great art.” She wrapped her arm around her daughter and gave her a warm hug.
“You’re right,” said Clawdeen. “I have all the time in the world to get these looks perfect.” She was putting too much pressure on herself. It was true.
Ari poked her head into the studio. She was holding up her iCoffin with a smile. “Hey, Clawdeen,” she said cheerfully. “Question: is it all right if I tell some of my old Normie bandmates about the salon?”
“Of course, Ari,” Clawdeen answered cheerfully.
“Great!” Ari was relieved. “And…is it okay if they post about it online?”
“Sure,” agreed Clawdeen. “I mean, we want a lot of Normies to come to the salon.”
“Okay, good!” Ari beamed happily. “Because all of that already happened. And now my fans are posting about it. And more fans are reposting it. Again and again…and again!” Her iCoffin lit up. She glanced at it. “Ooh! Again!”
Clawdeen gulped, trying to stay calm. “So…you are saying that…”
“We’re going to have hundreds and hundreds of Normies at the salon opening this weekend!” Ari clapped her hands, delighted.
“Right.” Clawdeen took a deep breath. “Hundreds of Normies. This weekend. Wait—this weekend?�
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“Yeah,” confirmed Ari. “Everyone was so excited, and then I got excited, and, well…” Her voice trailed off. She shrugged apologetically.
Clawdeen turned to her mother. So much for all the time in the world to make great art. “Now can I panic?”
“Officially, as your mother, I’m supposed to say no, but, yes, I would probably panic.”
Clawdeen howled at the top of her lungs! “AROOO!”
But only for a few seconds. She didn’t have any time to be upset. She raced around the studio picking up fabric. She straightened the mannequins. She picked up the easels. She took a big breath, and then she slapped a piece of paper onto a new easel and started sketching like crazy. After all, she had to get to work. The opening of her dream salon was in just a few days!
Chapter 8
ZAPPED!
Twyla was keeping a careful eye on Moanica and the Zomboyz. She was at her locker putting away her books when she spotted a couple of Zomboyz. They were carrying shovels in their hands and maneuvering a wheelbarrow through the hallways. They were all dirty and dusty and wearing mining helmets. The Zomboyz were definitely up to something! Twyla ducked behind a corner, and without anyone noticing, she snapped a photo of them with her iCoffin.
In science class, Twyla noticed another Zomboy piling wires and batteries into a box. Another one was studying Frankie and taking notes while she worked on her battery project. There was even a Zomboy up in the rafters, disconnecting electrical coils. One long wire got wrapped around him, and he flew through the air like a trapeze artist. Click. Click. Click. Twyla took photos of everything.
That afternoon when classes were over, she followed a Zomboy outside. Twyla covered herself with a gray shroud and kept to the shadows, undercover. She had to figure out what was going on. Far away from the school, far away from the human town, far away from everything, a group of Zomboyz was standing behind a table covered with pastries, cupcakes, and desserts. Could the Zomboyz really be holding a bake sale? In the middle of nowhere? Why?
Twyla pulled out her iCoffin and called Frankie. “We need to talk,” she whispered.
The wind was howling, and the rain was coming down hard. After a brief let-up, the storm was in full swing again. The ghouls met in the gazebo on the outskirts of the school grounds so that no one would overhear them. Lightning flashed in the sky.
Frankie carefully swiped through Twyla’s photos. “Wow. This is good work.” But what did it all mean? “Digging tools, Tesla coils, electrical equipment…”
Twyla held up a zom-brownie. “And who has a zombie bake sale in the middle of nowhere?”
Frankie’s eyes lit up when she saw the baked goods. “Ooh! Brownies!” She opened her mouth to take a big bite.
“Don’t eat that,” warned Twyla. “I checked. It’s, like, 90 percent dirt.”
“Eww.” Frankie let it fall to the ground with a scrunched-up frown. “What could they possibly be up to? I feel terrible asking, but could you keep watching them?”
“It’s what I do best,” Twyla said, smiling. She faded into the shadows and vanished on the spot. A second later, she reappeared. She really was the daughter of the Boogey Man.
“Just please be careful,” Frankie begged. “I don’t want you to end up in any kind of danger.”
Just then, a huge gust of wind whirled past the gazebo—and lifted off its roof! The storm was getting worse. Branches and boards clattered down all around them. “Whoa!” yelled the ghouls.
“You know, like now, for instance,” gasped Frankie.
Lightning struck! Thunder boomed!
“Let’s go!” shouted Twyla above the roar.
Together they ran toward the school through sheets of driving rain. The sky was exploding with lightning. Huge bolts were striking all around them. They raced toward the stairs, but just before they reached the front door, Twyla tripped and fell.
“Twyla!” Frankie turned toward her friend.
“I’m okay…I…”
But Frankie knew that she wasn’t. She saw the lightning bolt the second before it hit—headed straight for Twyla. Frankie dove toward Twyla, covering her body protectively with her own. The lightning hit Frankie, blasting through her neck bolts. Frankie glowed. But she had been created during a lightning storm, after all, and she could absorb all that electricity. When she stood up, she was fine—and Twyla was safe. She blinked. Absolutely fine. Twyla couldn’t believe it.
When they were inside, Frankie checked her neck bolts. They were a little loose, and she gently tightened them. All better.
“You saved me, Frankie. Thank you,” said Twyla.
“Don’t mention it.”
Frankie was stretching as if she were sore after a workout. Her body gave a little twitch. She made a frizzing noise.
“Are you okay?” Twyla asked.
“Wooh!” Frankie shook it off. “I’m all right. A little lightning never hurt anybody. I mean, never hurt a Stein, anyway. But from now on, what do you say we meet indoors?”
Twyla laughed and gave herself a shake. She was so relieved that Frankie had saved her and that they were both okay!
A nearby light buzzed and flickered. A frazzle of electricity arced from the light…right into Frankie. She felt her bolts again, confused. “Huh. That’s never happened before.”
“That was a lot of lightning out there,” noted Twyla. “You sure you don’t need some help?”
“I’m fine,” said Frankie, not at all worried. “Listen, we’re having another ghouls’ night tonight, upstairs. You want to come?”
Twyla shook her head. “I think I’ve already had more excitement than I can handle. Thanks, though.”
“Okay, well, if you change your mind, you’ve got my number.”
Frankie headed up the stairs. She didn’t realize that with her every step, electricity from all different light fixtures jolted toward her. She walked past a lantern and, zap, it blinked out. Its chain creaked as it swung back and forth. She walked by a chandelier and, fritz, every electric candle dimmed. What was going on? She felt kind of strange. Another bolt of electricity blasted into her shoe. She shook it off. Oh well. She’d probably be fine in a little bit.
Zap! Zap! Frizzle! Zap!
It was almost as if all the electricity in Monster High was attracted to Frankie Stein.
Chapter 9
GOING WITH THE FLOW
The ghouls were all sound asleep in the loft. Outside, the storm was finally quieting down. There was no more thunder and lightning. The rain fell softly against the windowpanes. The ghouls were lost in dreams. Cleo muttered in her sleep. Lagoona’s breath made a quiet whisper like the surf flowing in and out. Webby rocked back and forth in his hammock made of cobwebs. Frankie glowed.
But Clawdeen was wide awake.
She could not fall asleep. She could not stop thinking about the opening of her salon. She had to come up with a theme. She threw off her blankets and stepped over the sleeping ghouls. She snuck past Cleo, who was talking in her sleep. “I would look fabulous in these jewels, Mr. Talking Pineapple.”
The whole school was dark and quiet. It was the perfect time to think. Clawdeen settled down in front of her desk, pulled out her sketchbook, and started to draw.
“What are you doing’?” asked a sleepy voice.
Clawdeen jumped, startled. It was Draculaura, sitting up in her bed and rubbing her eyes. Clawdeen’s desk light must have woken her.
“I’m trying to work on our looks. But I’m not happy with any of my designs. We’ve really got to wow the Normies.”
“Well…” Draculaura yawned, her eyes barely open. “Why don’t you just bring monster style to the humans?” Then, she lay back down and rolled over, fast asleep again.
Clawdeen thought about what Draculaura had said. Monster style? Monster style! “That’s it!” Clawdeen exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement.
“Shhh!” whispered Webby.
Clawdeen grinned. She had the answer to her problem. She’d show
Normies just how spooktacular it was to look like a monster! She was finally inspired.
As Clawdeen sketched away, the light on her desk sparked. A thin trickle of energy wafted through the air—right to Frankie. Her eyelids fluttered. She glowed a little brighter. How much more electricity could she handle?
The next morning, the storm was gone, but all the lights in Monster High were flickering—especially when Frankie walked by. It was as if she were an electricity magnet.
Twyla noticed the lights flickering as she walked to class. When Twyla saw Frankie, she was worried. She kept touching the bolts on her neck and twitching.
“Good morning,” Frankie called out to her brightly. “That was quite a storm last night, huh?”
“Yeah,” agreed Twyla. “That electricity thing is still happening to you?”
“It’s no big deal.” Frankie shrugged off her concern. “In fact, I woke up full of energy. Ha!”
Twyla tried to smile. “Right…”
The two stepped outside together. Shingles had blown off the roof, trees were down, and debris was scattered across the campus. Still, students were out on the steps enjoying the sunshine—and getting in some last-minute studying before class.
In a hushed voice so no one would overhear them, Twyla told Frankie her plans. “So I’m going to spy on that Zombake sale. I’m pretty sure those guys are hiding something.”
“Be sure to call me when you find out,” whispered Frankie.
“I will.”
Frankie looked up at the sky. Not a cloud in it! The mountains that surrounded Monster High were fresh and green after all the rain. The sun felt warm on her face. She just had so much energy today!
She spotted Dracula high up on the side of the building taking down the boards he’d nailed over the windows. Clawdeen’s mom was watching him.
“Are you sure you know what you are doing?” Mrs. Wolf called up to Dracula.
“I can promise you that I’m not going to fall this time,” he responded confidently.
