Vote quotes! Lexie perked up as she remembered another one. “Also, ‘Bad officials are elected by good citizens who do not vote!’ ”
“Say it loud, Lex!” Dylan clapped, although the other kids groaned. “Now this is getting interesting,” he said.
“Now we know Mr. Fellows is crazy, from head to shoes.” Mina’s voice was easy to hear. “Nobody wants a pasty poetess for president.”
“Except someone has to save us from turning this place into the Parrish Day Spa,” said Lexie. “What’s next if you’re elected, Mina? Principal Kaylee Milquetoast?”
Mina buttoned up and didn’t pounce again until lunchtime. Lexie and Pete were sitting outside, although that nip in the air had become a true bite.
“Hard to believe that once I lived on an all-blood diet of field mice and voles,” Lexie mentioned as she spat apple seeds into her hand. “Seems so unhealthy.”
“Or that I attacked my prey under a full moon,” countered Pete.
They smiled a friends-with-a-secret smile. Pete wasn’t texting anybody, and Lexie hadn’t brought up Crunchee, so everything seemed good.
“Yucktopus Fingers! You’re making a major mistake.” Mina had sneaked up from behind with Loo on her side. Now she got right up in Lexie’s face.
Lexie hated hearing Mina’s old nickname for her. She also hated hearing Loo’s I-love-everything-about-Mina snigger.
“Not as big a mistake as the ones your parents made.” Pete loved a good fight. His yellow eyes sparkled.
“Stay out of this, Stubbe. This is between me and my turncoat speechwriter.” Mina’s voice was so loud that other kids were tuning in. Lexie had to put down her apple because her nervous hand was slipping on the skin.
“The disloyalty started with you, Mina,” Lexie answered. “You’ve been plundering my PHOLD for all your best inspirational lines.”
But Mina waved the words away. “Fair use,” she said. “If I get elected president, I’m in charge of freshman morale. Which means pep talks. Since, at the time, you were my speechwriter, I was using your words as policy.”
“Well, steal your policy from somebody else,” Lexie said. “As of this morning, you’re my opponent.”
“Good. Fine. Nothing gets me going better than squashing losers like bugs,” Mina sniffed. “Go ahead and run against me, honey. But all that happens now is that you and Needleburger will split the nerd-and-dork vote. That leaves me with the class majority: the jocks, the perfects, the cling-ons, the suck-ups, the thesps, the hippy dips, the bandsters, the rebs, the techies, and the burnouts.” She wriggled ten fingers in the air.
“What am I?” asked Loo.
Mina rolled her eyes. “Mostly perf, with teensy elements of cling-on and suck-up.”
Loo nodded. “You’re so smart, Mina.”
“Not smart enough,” Lexie spoke up. “I’m going to win this election by a landslide, Mina Pringle, because your policies are as empty as a lost sock.”
Mina sniggered. “How poetic. News flash—it’s not the policies, it’s the strategy. I’ve got this in the bag, Ape Feet. Say good-bye to the best chance you had to be cool by association. Now you can go back to torturing us with your stinky quotes, your cracking ankles . . . and don’t even get me started on your green blood. My suggestion? Save yourself some heartache and get back to your own planet. Where you belong.” With a bounce of her curls, she turned on her heel, Loo bopping along behind.
“Oof.” Pete shook his head. “How does Mina know about your blood?” It was an insider secret that hybrid-vampire “blood” was blue-green.
“When I pricked my finger last year to sign Dylan’s cast . . .” Strangely, the very word blood had made Lexie dizzy. It had been many, many years, so she hardly recognized this sharp craving for a glass of warm blood with a full-bodied aftertaste.
And not just any blood. Mina’s blood. Which likely had a hint of peach.
Lexie’s fangs itched as she tried to block out the ancient desire. What a peculiar sensation after all these years. All this bickering and squabbling was firing up her old vamp instincts. And that probably was not a good thing. “You were right, Pete. It looks like Mina’s a slug after all,” she said. “You’ll help me with my campaign to beat her, won’t you?”
Pete squirmed, uncomfortable. “Sure. Not today, though. Today, I’m meeting Crunchee after school. We’re going to a Save the Bay rally.”
“Chimps, dolphins, now the bay. Why are you so interested in saving things all of a sudden?”
Pete looked sheepish. “Guess I’m kind of like your brother, Hudson. I want to get eco-educated. And I’d rather save than waste. It’d be cool if you came along. You could meet Crunchee. She’s pretty awesome.”
But Lexie didn’t like to hear about Crunchee. “It’d be cooler if you helped your best friend in her time of need.”
Pete looked baffled. “How can I help you?”
Lexie sighed, exasperated. “Frankly, I was just asking myself the same question.” She hadn’t meant to say this as rudely as it came out.
“Ouch,” said Pete. “Know what, Lex? Sometimes you throw words around like rocks, and they hurt when they hit.”
Lexie scowled. “So I take it you’re not going to work on my campaign with me? You’d rather hang out with this Crunchee person?”
Pete went silent. Lexie waited. All Pete offered was a frown.
They were used to disagreements and the odd, all-out spat, but this one felt different. How could Pete not sense how worried she was to be up against Mina? Or how reckless it now seemed to her to have thrown herself into a presidential campaign that she had a good chance of losing?
Lexie smashed up her lunch bag and popped in her retainer, then jumped up. “So that’s the way it is,” she said, even as she crossed her fingers that Pete would tell her that wasn’t the way it was at all, that he was just kidding, that Crunchee really wasn’t so awesome, and that he’d be way more into saving Lexie’s skin than the bay.
Instead, he winged his sandwich crust all the way across the park. Lexie’s supersonic ears heard the same hungry FDR Drive dog yip his thanks.
“You’d go out of your way to help a stray dog before a real friend,” she noted.
“Come on, Lexie,” said Pete. “We could campaign for the cause with Crunchee and then work on your stuff.”
“Sorry. I guess I don’t like to waste stuff, either. Especially not my time.” Lexie tried to toss her hair à la Mina. “It looks like I’ll have to win this one alone.”
9
SQUAWK!
Maybe it was all those cupcakes she’d baked them. Or the fact that she’d let them read her Collected Poetry of W. B. Yeats and Complete Works of Sir Walter Scott. Or that she’d been tutoring them in their favorite subject, New World slang. But when Lexie came home from school that afternoon, she learned that Mitzi and Blix had launched their own campaign: a request to move into Lexie’s room.
“Family election,” their father announced after dinner, ripping up little pieces of paper as their mother passed around an urn for them to cast their votes.
“Four ayes, one nay,” Maddy reported a minute later. “Sorry, Hex.”
“This is so not a good idea,” said Lexie. “I was only trying to be polite to them.”
“We have to give the pixies a haven,” said her mother as she picked up the empty cage. “Otherwise they cause trouble all day. Yesterday, they stole papers from the newspaper girl. The day before, they demagnetized the UPS guy’s signature pad. And they scare pretty much anyone who knocks on our door.”
“Plus, your room is the closest thing to nectar for pixies,” said Hudson. “It’s so super-extra girlie flowery pink and purple.”
“Face it, you’ve been a marvelous example for them, Lexie,” said their father. “Somehow, you calm them.”
“Us loves Lex!” squeaked the pixies, who were already flitting up the stairs. “Us loves her yums cupcakes and pretty voice and her room of lavender ginger spicy smellies.”
“No, the pixies truly adore Lexington,” said their father. “Like it or not.”
“Not. This is emotional blackmail.” Lexie followed and watched with a sinking heart as her parents set the pixie cage next to her dresser. “How can I concentrate on anything if I have to put up with pix nonsense?” The spells. The cursing. The walnut-shell throwing. It would drive her bonkers.
“Us pixies helps win Lexie’s contest for queen of the world,” said Blix.
“Not queen of the world. Ninth-grade class president,” said Hudson. “And I doubt you crazy pixies know how to—ouch!” He ducked the flying walnut shells and left Lexie’s room quick.
“Thanks, sweetie,” whispered their mother. “Remember, it’s temporary.” The Livingstones tiptoed out Lexie’s door, leaving her alone with Mitzi and Blix, who had moved Lexie’s pillows from her bed to their cage and now were snuggled up in them, humming with happiness.
Lexie took out her laptop. She’d start by writing an ode to everything she loved about Parrish. That would motivate her to tackle her campaign speech.
But what rhymed with Parrish?
“Marrish, scarrish, rarrish,” she murmured. Not great.
What about Dylan? Chillin’, thrillin’ . . . Dylan Easterby was certainly one of the main reasons she loved Parrish.
Blix hummed. “Uoy era gnitteg ypeeeeels.”
“Huh?” Lexie’s eyes felt heavy. “What are you saying?”
“Nepo ruoy wodniw,” sang Mitzi, “dna neht og ot peeeeels.”
“Good idea.” Lexie stood up to do something. Then she immediately forgot what she’d done, and she put her head down on her desk to rest. She was so tired all of a sudden.
When she picked her head back up again, her room was freezing cold and sunlight was streaming through. What kind of dream was this? Why was it daylight? Why was her window—
“Argh!” This was no dream. Lexie jumped up and shut the window, then pulled down the blinds. Autumn afternoons were one thing, but the strong dose of morning sun was too much for her sensitive skin. She was starting to get skin crusties. Quickly, Lexie smeared on some sunscreen. She’d need to keep covered up today. How had she fallen asleep at her desk?
Then she saw. The cage was empty. The pixies were gone.
“I’ve been spelled,” Lexie whispered as last night flashed back. The pixies had lullabyed her—and she’d done the unspeakable. She’d listened and obeyed!
What had Mitzi said? Lexie mentally replayed the backwardsian. Then her eyes brimmed with tears. Now she remembered standing up and unlocking the window, then opening it.
Oh, no. But it wasn’t her fault. She had been working late. Their humming had confused her.
“Moooooooom! Daaad!” Lexie ran downstairs, hiccuping with fear.
“Hey, Lexie,” said Maddy. “Check out my new catchphrase—murder hobbles in!” She and Hudson were in all-new costumes—Maddy as Gory Granny, in a ketchup-spattered dress and a gray wig, while Hudson was dressed in Maddy’s Elf Scout uniform.
“I don’t need a catchphrase,” said Hudson. “My incredible good looks carry me.”
“The pixies escaped,” Lexie gasped through her hiccups.
“Wow, you mess things up quick, Lex,” said Hudson. “They were in your care for, like, one night?”
“Not in my care. Just in my room.” Lexie hiccuped.
“Where do you think they went?” asked their father.
“How should I know? They sleep-spelled me and escaped through the window,” squeaked Lexie.
“Uh-oh, I wouldn’t want to be the one to tell Orville,” said Maddy. “He’s going to flip his beak.”
“Okay,” said their mother. “No need to panic. They could use a little freedom. Let’s not report to Orville yet. Perhaps they only went to the Macy’s Fall Sale. They’ve been talking about it for days. I’m sure they’ll come back once they get hungry and find out how expensive store-bought cupcakes are in this city.”
Lexie nodded. She knew the pixies had wanted to go try out some of their city slang. All week, they’d been practicing phrases like, “Is this a knockoff or a lemon?” and, “My dogs are barking.”
“I’ll bake a batch of cupcakes for when they get back,” Lexie said as she reached for the mixing bowl.
“And if they’re not back by night, then we’ll report to Orville,” her mother said.
At school, the competition had edged up a notch. Mina’s campaign team had made a huge banner that read: MINA PRINGLE GIVES ME TINGLES!
“She gives me tingles, too,” Lexie overheard Dylan tell his friends. “Mina made me a spearmint foot scrub that’s great for sore soccer feet.”
Lexie’s heart tripped. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She could make a fantastic foot scrub. Mina Pringle was always one-upping her.
At the lockers, Neil Needleburger caught her eye and sidled over. “Lexie, I think we should team up. You could run as my vice president, and then we’d hold on to our core support.”
“‘Some leaders are born women,’” quipped Lexie. “I appreciate your offer, but I kind of want to aim as high as you.”
“Except you don’t even like politics,” said Neil. “Everyone knows you’re running against Mina because she and Dylan are going out and you’re jealous.”
“They’re not going out!”
Neil shrugged. “She made him a homemade foot scrub.”
“Anyone can make a foot scrub! It doesn’t mean anything.” Lexie banged shut her locker. Mina Pringle’s campaign was working, all right. It sure was giving her tingles—mad tingles.
Walking home, Lexie admitted it to herself—her motivations were all upside down. She’d entered this race for two wrong reasons—to impress a boy and get back at a girl. Speechwriting didn’t make her a politician. “But I know I can come up with better policies than changing our mascot or building a fountain,” she said. “After I find the pixies, I’m going to focus on a clean, smart campaign platform.”
But upstairs, a surprise awaited her. “What are you two doing here?” Mitzi and Blix were sitting on the edge of her bed, hands folded, smiling broadly.
“Us fly away. Now here,” said Blix as Mitzi nodded.
“I see that. Well, I’m glad you came back. And thanks for cleaning my room.”
Her bedroom was spotlessly tidy and smelled like honeysuckle. Every surface shone or glittered. It had never looked so pretty.
But the pixies couldn’t hide the reason for their goofy grins. “Us went out to get the dirt!” they exclaimed, bouncing on the bed. “Ask about dirt!”
“Huh?” Lexie couldn’t find a speck of dirt anywhere.
“The dirt on troll girl.” Mitzi waved a slender scrap-book in front of Lexie, then just as quickly snatched it away.
“Let me see that!” Lexie recognized the embossed monogram W.A.P.—Wilhelmina A. Pringle.
So it was that kind of dirt. The pixies had become so fluent in New World slang. “Dirt” really meant secret, possibly harmful information about Mina.
“Promise cupcakes for a pix,” said Blix.
“Then us shows Lexie,” added Mitzi.
“Fine,” she said. “Cupcakes are already made. Now show me.”
With a smirk, Mitzi tossed the book to Lexie, who popped it open.
“Ooooooh . . .” Her eyes gobbled the images. Page after page showed photographs of Mina Pringle dressed in safari bird-watcher’s gear, one sock up and one sock down, sweaty-faced, with a pair of binoculars looped around her neck.
In some pages, she was scoping out birds from a low branch or shrub. In others, she was high up in a tree, binoculars aimed.
In the last picture, Mina was dressed in a feathered parrot costume, complete with huge headdress and a matching smile on her face.
“‘I love the Florida peach-blossom parrot more than any other bird in the world, and I would fol
low it to the ends of the earth.’” Lexie read Mina’s caption out loud. “‘What a great summer. Thank you, Longwood, Florida, branch of the International Bird-Watching Society. My IBS memories will never fade. Squawk! Over and out!’
“Wow!” Lexie closed the book. “How interesting. Mina lied and told us she’d gone to Paris, France, for the summer. Instead, she was geeking it up at bird-watcher camp.” Lexie wondered why Mina would work so hard to cover up her activities. She must be super-insecure about her nerdy side, Lexie decided. Which was too bad—since bird-watching was a fantastic hobby.
“Us got the dirt!” crowed the pixies. “Now you goes public!” Then they jumped into their cage, curled up, fell asleep, and turned into hedgehogs.
Go public. It seemed so easy. Yet so devious. All Lexie had to do was blow up that last picture of Mina in her peach-blossom parrot costume and plaster it all over the school. She would expose Mina as a liar. And, worse, as uncool—something that Mina took great pains not to be.
I can’t really do this, though, thought Lexie. It would be immature. And mean. And low. Too low. What would Dylan think?
“If I’m really careful, he doesn’t have to find out,” Lexie said to herself.
She looked down at her hands and was surprised to see a dark ink stain smeared across her palm. She’d squeezed her pen so hard that she’d broken it. Strange. She usually had her vamp strength in check.
Of course, she didn’t usually have such vampish thoughts.
She did now.
10
TINGLE IN THE AIR
Look, look, everybody—in the science hall!”
Kids were yelling and running through classrooms to make sure others came out and saw the posters. Lexie, innocently at work on her math work sheet at her desk, didn’t bother to join them. She knew what she’d done.
She waited a day. But then couldn’t resist. Mina would win the election unless people could see who she really was—a hypocrite and a poem thief. The posters of Mina in her parrot costume at the International Bird-Watching Society were up on the walls of the school because kids deserved to know the real Mina Pringle.
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