Teen Frankenstein (High School Horror Story #1)

*

Instead of class, the school staff corralled the entire student body into the gymnasium and told us to sit on the bleachers and when those were full to sit on the floor. We caught sight of Owen and Adam, and while I knew she’d never admit it, I got the feeling Cassidy found the emergence of a crisis on school grounds to be très romantique. An excuse to leech onto Adam, who, to her credit, was tailor-made to play the strong, silent type.

We climbed up a set of bleachers after the other upperclassmen, with Adam and Cassidy trailing. Owen rolled his eyes. “Someone get the fair lady her smelling salts before she faints,” he said.

I looked back. “Don’t be a jerk. We’re making progress. I think he actually likes her. Look at how he watches her.”

“I think it seems as if he likes everyone.”

We scooted past a row of students to a few empty spots near the top of the bleachers. “What do you mean by ‘it seems’?”

“Nothing.” He sat down and slid over to make room. I didn’t peel my eyes away from him. His shoulders scrunched up to his ears. “Nothing,” he repeated. “God, you don’t need to go all mama bear on me.”

The roar of a thousand voices filled the gymnasium.

Adam tapped me on the shoulder, his face calm and serene and innocent as ever. “Victoria, what are we doing here?”

The corner of my eye caught the red scabs on his knuckles, and I quickly glanced back up. “Damage control.”

On cue, Mrs. Van Lullen waddled out in a tight black pencil skirt and orange cardigan. She dragged a screeching podium to center court. She tottered away on clunky heels, and Principal Wiggins, who was built like a bullfrog, appeared, tugging at the tie around the spot where his head and shoulders met. The man had no neck. He tapped the podium microphone, and the thumping reverberated around the room. He leaned over. “Hello?” Mrs. Van Lullen reemerged and whispered something in his ear. “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Okay then.” A hushed silence blanketed the room save for the choked heaving of a single person’s sobs. “Most of you know why we’re here,” Principal Wiggins began. He spoke close to the microphone with his head bowed, probably trying to strike the right balance between authoritative and grim. “We’re not releasing the name of the victim at this time, but a student’s body was found this morning outside of the boys’ locker room.” This sparked a round of tittering, and Principal Wiggins had to hold up one hand to make it stop. “This marks the third murder in Hollow Pines in the span of weeks. Precautions must be taken to protect our students. If you spot anything or anyone that looks suspicious, report it to an adult immediately. Students are to go home directly after all extracurriculars, and the Hollow Pines police have asked me to convey that all persons under the age of eighteen will be subject to a ten o’clock curfew as an added safety measure.”

This time the crowd elicited a collective groan. “But it’s Homecoming,” called a voice in the crowd.

“Which will now be over at nine,” said Principal Wiggins. “In order to ensure that everyone has time to get home for curfew.”

“This blows,” yelled another voice to shouts of agreement.

“His body’s not even cold yet,” I said to Owen. “And already his death is an inconvenience.”

“Surprised you’re not going to try to bring him back, too,” he whispered. “You could have an entire army of—” I elbowed him. He croaked and shut up.

Principal Wiggins raised his voice over the crowd. “The police will be pulling certain students to question them.”

Cassidy bent forward to talk to us. “I wonder if they’ll question us since we were there. You think?” She said this like it was a good thing.

“Why? We don’t know anything,” I said too quickly.

My heartbeat picked up. Adam plus police plus alibis. Under scrutiny, it all seemed to add up to a mudslide of worst-case scenarios, and I was standing at the bottom waiting to get buried.

When Cassidy returned her attention to the gym floor, I tilted toward Adam. “You didn’t see anybody here last night?” I asked, voice low, half wanting him to say that he had, that he hadn’t been the only one on campus. “No other cars in the parking lot?”

Principal Wiggins continued to drone on about the closure of the boys’ locker room and where counseling would be available for students that needed somewhere to cope with this most recent tragedy. Adam shook his head. “Is this my fault?”

“No.” I closed my eyes and willed myself to be patient with him. “And don’t say that, either. To anyone. Don’t mention that you were there.”

“I should lie.” He said it as a statement, one that I wished he’d have said more quietly.

“Think of it as leaving out part of the truth. It’s more of a secret. A secret between us. You like when we have our secrets, right?”

“Just us?”

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