by Stacey Jay
Principal Samedi smiled grimly while Trish made a face that looked like she'd been forced to eat live insects. What was up with her? I wish I'd known her longer. If she were my old best friend, Piper, I'd know exactly what her weird facial expressions meant.
Piper. Sniff. I missed her and my old life. A lot.
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I've never been one to dwell on the past or what could have been, but this whole Undead thing was turning out way scarier than I'd thought it would be. It made me wistful for the days when I'd assumed learning to eat raw pig brains was the absolute worst thing I'd have to deal with here at DEAD.
"I've got to get back to organizing the enhanced security, but Trish will stay with you until you're feeling better." Principal Samedi released her snuggle captive and strode purposefully toward the door to the infirmary. "I'll see you both sixth period."
Trish and I had Samedi for Introduction to Magical Behaviors, a class that, so far, wasn't nearly as fun as it sounded. It was mostly a bunch of rules and lectures on why we should never even attempt to harness the paranormal power we inherently possessed as the living dead except to work the illusion spells necessary for us to move around in the human world without being discovered. It was like a semester-long sex-ed class focused solely on abstinence. Logical and safe, maybe. But very, very boring. We should at least get to put condoms on bananas... or the magical behaviors equivalent.
"See you later," I said with a weak wave.
"Bye," Trish echoed, sidling closer to my bed. She waited until Samedi's footsteps faded down the hall before turning to clutch at my hand. "Are you really okay? Is that really what happened?"
"Yeah, except for the note." I'd left out the part about being summoned to the bathroom by Trish's note, not
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wanting to get my new friend in trouble. "I didn't think I should mention that part."
"Thank god you didn't," she said, keeping her voice to a whisper, as if she feared someone might be listening even though we were alone in the room. "Principal Samedi is lying."
"About what?"
"About everything! I snagged a pass and was on my way to the bathroom to check and see if you were still there waiting for me when the hall monitor found you. Renee came running out, saying she'd seen someone in a white robe go through the window, but it was like she forgot all about that after Principal Samedi pulled her aside."
A funny feeling skittered across my skin, raising all the little hairs on my arms. "You think Samedi brainwashed her or something?"
"Who knows?" Trish shivered, catching my chill. "But she's a high priestess and casts real spells on a regular basis. She'd probably know how to."
"I guess." I didn't know much about magic yet, but it did seem weird that while our principal was an out-of-the-closet caster who used leftover bones from the cafeteria to work magic, she urged all her students to never dabble in the art. Was she really trying to keep us safe or did she just want to keep the power all to herself? "A white robe would mean a teacher, right? Do you think she's trying to cover up the fact that a teacher whacked me on the head and stole Penelope's brains?"
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"Maybe. I don't know. All I know is that she really, really creeped me out when--" "Karen, are you okay?"
"Ahhh!!" Trish and I screamed and jumped about a foot in the air at the sound of the voice in the doorway.
I clutched my skull and groaned as my head reminded me how much it still hurt. Neither jumping nor screaming were good ideas for me right now. Geez! Where were my brains already? If they were going to deny me acetaminophen, it seemed the least they could do was put a rush on the raw gray matter.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I offered to bring up your food when I heard you'd been hurt." Gavin stood in the doorway, looking as delicious as ever, holding a cafeteria tray covered with a silver lid. "I wanted to make sure you were all right."
"Oh. Thanks. That's great!" I said, wincing at the girly excitement in my own voice. Only a chick with a horrible crush could sound so perky after being attacked in the toilet. Could I be more embarrassingly eager?
Thankfully, Gavin didn't seem to notice. He just smiled that dimple-popping smile. "So, is it all right if I come in?"
"Sure, yeah, come in." I sat up a little straighter, wishing I'd had the chance to glance in a mirror since coming to. I couldn't be certain, but I was guessing "head recently bashed in" wasn't a good look for me. If only I'd gotten my hands on some lip-gloss before it was too late!
But Gavin didn't seem to notice my drab factor, either.
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In fact, he couldn't take his eyes off of me as I opened my get-well meal and started shoveling in the brains as fast as was moderately ladylike. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, either. He was just so... yummy. Crazy yummy. Maybe even dangerously yummy.
If Trish hadn't made a strangled-stork sound and jerked her thumb several times toward Gavin's clothes, I don't know if I ever would have pulled myself out of the tractor beam of his eyes in time to take note of his second uniform violation in two days.
"Um, so, what's with the outfit?" I asked as casually as I could, considering I had a mouthful of brains and a head full of suspicion. There Gavin stood in a glaringly white robe! "Do juniors get special privileges or something? If so, I can't wait. I'm so over the all-black look."
Gavin laughed with apparent innocence. "You'll have to join the swim team, then. This is our meet robe. Principal Samedi says it's bad luck to wear black on a competition day. Not that it really matters." His smile faded. "The meet's been cancelled. Everything except classes has been cancelled until they find this psycho. They're sure whoever did this will kill again. It's only a matter of time."
"Is it?" I asked, arching my recently plucked brow. At least I hadn't let that grooming task slip. I might presently be lip-glossless, but I knew that the "frames of my face" were in excellent condition.
"Yeah... I think so." Gavin met my challenging look with one of his own. For a second I could have sworn he
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was accusing me of something before his hottie mask fell back into place. "But I've got to get back to class. Take care, you two."
"We will. Don't worry," I called after him, meeting Trish's eyes over a huge drink of some sort of brain smoothie that had come with my meal.
And we would take care, oh yes, we would. Take care of him before he harvested another brain.
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CHAPTER SEVEN
Smooth a bit of foundation onto your arm and blend, checking to make sure you've got a good match. Undead flesh will continue to grow considerably paler after death, so you may need to change foundations several times in your first few years as a Death Challenged individual. Remember, in order to hide in plain sight, the Undead must do their part. Cosmetics are your friends and allies, as much as any trick of magic.
--Secrets of Successful Morticians and Their Uses for the Undead: Foundation and Beyond
No way! She didn't! I hastily scribbled the words onto my notepad before shoving it into Trish's hands and waiting the eternity it took for her to write back in her best penmanship. "We'd finished our homework for seventh period ages ago--I was no makeup virgin and had my exact foundation match and Trish's figured out in mere minutes-- and so I had nothing to distract me while I waited.
It was so frustrating! Frustrating enough that I'd been willing to put up with the heat in Trish's room (she was lucky to have a single, although it was right next to the boiler room). But since she'd needed a break from the sweltering ness, we'd stuck it out in my room.
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Argh! This would be so much faster if we could have IMed, but the computers in our rooms weren't Internet equipped for some evil, twisted reason. Probably because the boys had been downloading naughty pictures or something lame, and now we all had to suffer. What was it with teachers and group suffering?
Speaking of suffering, if my roommate weren't so insufferable, Trish and I could have just talked this thing out. But Claric
e was being a complete investigation-killer, insisting she needed quiet time to commune with her chicken bone collection or whatever she was up to on the other side of the room, hiding under her thick black blanket with my Hello Kitty flashlight.
It seemed pink cuteness wasn't so intolerable when it came to something she needed. I suppose my belongings no longer had girlie cooties, either, since she'd lifted both my flashlight and two of my scrunchies before disappearing into her blanket lair seconds after I returned to our room.
I was trying to be cool with the "borrowing without asking" stuff, since we had been getting along a little bit better today. It would be best for both of us if we could stop annoying the hell out of each other. But if she laid a hand on my lavender-filled eye pillow, all bets were off. Thank god my feet were too small for her to even think about touching my shoes, or I doubt I would have slept until I'd purchased a lockbox.
She totally did. I swear I saw her touch your head and then lick the blood off her fingers. Like
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she was tasting you! Like you were a snack
food!!! I almost barfed but held it in so she wouldn't Know seen anything. I didn 't want to get the Samedi mine? wipe like Renee.
Ew!! So gross!! I held up the pad so Trish could nod her enthusiastic agreement, then let it drop back into my lap.
I couldn't believe Principal Samedi had tasted my blood. Blerchk! It was beyond squicky. Still, I just couldn't see her as the brain harvester. I knew this opinion was bugging Trish, so I chose my next words carefully.
Okay., so Somedi goes on the suspect fist, for sure. Along with Gavin, other members of the swim team who had first period free, and any teachers who weren't present and accounted for during the minutes between eight o'clock and eight fifteen.
It was going to be a long list, but it was too soon to rule anyone out... though I knew who I was betting on, and it wasn't my bloodthirsty new principal.
Trish jabbed me with her bony elbow to get my attention and pointed emphatically at what she'd written.
She goes at the top of the list!
Okay. ... but what about my brain? We had to stop and have a brief giggle about that. It was just funny for some reason, but then Clarice grunted beneath her blanket of death and we did our best to quiet down . I've been thinking and it seems weird that whoever hit me didn't try to harvest
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my brain. Assuming the person who attacked me was the same person who attacked Penelope, which it had to be or why else would they knock me out?
Well, they could have been meaning to take yours too. How can we know they didn't just get interrupted?
They were already on their way out of the bathroom when Renee came in. that means they weren't trying to stick around and snatch my gray matter, or she would have seen them kneeling next to me, not running for the window.
Hmm... makes sense.
Maybe they heard Renee coming? Or maybe... Trish's pencil hovered above the paper while she chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. You know, both Penelope and Kendra were Deprogrammed...
Dude, Trish was so good at this. I hadn't even remembered the whole Deprogrammed vs. Death Challenge controversy, but I should have. I blamed my head injury for not considering that angle from the get-go. So you think whoever did this left me alone because I'm naturally Death Challenged?
Could be. Which would mean Gavin is innocent. Why would he attack his own kind but leave you with nothing more than a bump on the head?
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Because he is crushing on me big time? In psycho-killer who likes-to- steal- brains kind of way? Even though Gavin was my top suspect--due to his blood-splattered shoes, white robe, and the fact that he had totally seen the note Trish left in my locker and could have followed me to the bathroom--I couldn't help but be vaguely thrilled by this idea.
Trish rolled her eyes, You are so vain.
Am not!! Why did everyone try to crush my healthy self-esteem? Would the world only be satisfied when I spent hours staring at US Weekly and bemoaning the size of my thighs compared to the anorexic starlet of the moment?
Are too, you Probably think this note is about you.
Um, it is.
I was joking it's a line from an old song my grandmother likes. You really need to expand your knowledge of classic rock
You mean grandmother music?
Classic! It's classic!! That means it will be cool forever!
Trish stuck out her tongue, and we both giggled. Clarice started making cow-going-into-labor moaning sounds under her blanket in response, but that only made it harder to stifle our mirth. She was so weird. I was totally going to see if I could apply for a room transfer before the start of next semester. I'd heard that, occasionally, Samedi
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would let three girls share the larger corner dorm rooms if there weren't any other spaces available. I didn't know the girls in those rooms very well yet, but anyone would be a better personality fit than Clarice the Tragic and Strange.
I put it on my mental to-do list: start kissing up to the girls with the larger rooms ASAP. Maybe I could make them some caramelized brain blondies if I could get transferred from Zombie Internet Technologies to The Undead Hearth and Home for third period. The technology class had more boys in it, which was nice, but I really needed to learn how to cook zombie food. Especially zombie desserts. Since chocolate had been removed from my diet, I'd been jonesing for sweet stuff big time. Besides, boys would come and go; dessert was forever.
Trish slid the notepad onto my lap. But whatever, I still can't believe you even suspect gavin he is 2 cute 2B evil.
Pretty is as pretty does. There's a little wisdom from my grandmother.
Who was very, very wise. She was the only person in my family who hadn't been completely taken in by my little sister, Kimmy, who is easily the most beautiful child in the world, but also the most evil. Well, not evil. "Mischievous" would be a better word, but I bet my brothers thought she was evil. The poor boys were endlessly tortured by their female third. For someone who hadn't reached her second birthday, Kimmy had a lot of naughty tricks up her pink onesie.
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I got a little sad again, wishing I could go downstairs to the playroom and play with the trips before dinner. I missed those little turds, which just went to show how very serious my head injury had been. I should probably be lying down and avoiding all brain activity until I was healed, but this mystery was not going to solve itself.
It didn't look like Principal Samedi was doing much of anything to track down the harvester. Aside from a few extra uniformed guards patrolling the halls, I couldn't see any signs of an active investigation. Aside from our own, of course.
Back to Samedi. It's weird that she didn't make me call my parents to tell them what happened today. I'd been worried because I knew Mom and Dad wouldn't let me stay after being attacked by a psycho in the girls' lav, but Samedi had dismissed my concerns with a shrug and a vague "what they don't know" after sixth period. She'd said she didn't want to lose a new student over something that would be resolved in a day's time. Still, it made me wonder... I wasn't expecting her to agree to keep this under wraps.
She agreed because she is guilty and wicked... and probably doesn't want to get sued Your parents seem like the suing type.
You've never even met my parents.
That's just the vibe I get, don't get upset. My mom would sue too, if she had the money to
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hire a lawyer. And if I was the one who'd had my head bashed in and the principal licking my yummy blood.
Ew!!! We started laughing again.
I don't know why, since it really wasn't funny. But when does laughter ever make sense? That's why comedy is so much harder to pull off than tragedy. I mean, a lot of things will make a lot of people cry, but everyone has a unique and particular sense of humor.
Except Clarice, who obviously had no sense of humor at all.
"Oh my god!! Could you just shut up already?" My roomate's pinched f
ace emerged from beneath her blanket, her black hair a wild, greasy tangle and her cheeks bright red. "I'm trying to concentrate!"
"Should you really be using god's name in vain? Shouldn't you be calling upon the dark lord or something like that?" Trish asked, in this innocent voice that did nothing to conceal her smartass factor.
Trish had gotten a lot gutsier in the two days I'd known her. Criminal investigation clearly agreed with her. She should think about a career in law enforcement after we graduated. We needed good people out there protecting and serving, and she could always work the night shift so no one noticed her inhuman pallor. Or maybe she could work an illusion spell and be able to get her cop on during the day...I wasn't sure how long an illusion spell could last.
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I wasn't sure of anything where my new magic was concerned, which made me even more suspicious of Principal Samedi. Why was she so determined to keep all of her students ignorant of their potential? This was supposed to be a learning institution, after all.
"Shouldn't you be off scrubbing a toilet?" Clarice smiled, a nasty little twist of her lips that showcased her overbite. I had three words for this chick: Braces. With. Headgear.
Actually, I had more words for her than that, but Trish beat me to it.
"I guess I got distracted by the human stain living on your side of the room."
