Monster High: Who's That Ghoulfriend? (Monster High: Ghoulfriends Forever) (11 page)

A
s the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, Robecca, Rochelle, and Venus stealthily made their way to the attic stairwell. With the memory of their classmates’ fear fresh in their minds, the ghouls slowly mounted the cold stone steps. Silently each hoped for the same thing—that Wydowna would be out. For if she wasn’t, they hadn’t a clue what their next step would be.

Seconds after Rochelle sliced through the
webbing and popped her head into the attic, she returned with a massive grin. Relieved, Venus and Robecca quickly followed Rochelle into the whimsical little room. Once again enchanted by the craftsmanship, the ghouls took a few seconds to marvel at the finely woven items around them.

“Come on,” Venus instructed the others, “we may not have much time.”

The jade-skinned ghoul then carefully tucked her vines into her sleeve, pulled back the carpet, and started feeling around the wooden floor for a loose board.

“Got it,” she exclaimed just seconds later, and lifted a piece of wood in the air.

“I don’t understand,” Robecca sputtered, looking into the secret hiding space.

“Neither do I,” Venus mumbled as she picked up a solitary sheet of paper. “There were at least six or seven pages here last time.”

“
Évidemment
she’s since moved them or thrown them away,” Rochelle answered as she bent down to inspect the dark little trove. “
Boo-la-la
, I don’t believe my eyes.”

“Then let us look!” Robecca squealed.

Rochelle then pulled a strip of coral fabric off a splintered piece of the floorboard and presented it to Venus and Robecca.

“Miss Flapper’s torn dress,” Venus muttered. “A normie tried to kidnap her, my foot! She ripped her dress up here and then used the incident to concoct the kidnapping story!”

“I think this is not a hiding spot but a drop box. Wydowna and Miss Flapper communicate by
leaving notes in here,” Rochelle explained as she accidentally frayed the small piece of fabric with her sharp nails.

“But why communicate through notes when they can just as easily speak face-to-face?” Robecca wondered.

“There is always a certain amount of risk that comes with meeting in person. They could be overheard or seen together. Plus, they keep very different schedules,” Rochelle explained as Venus bent down and grabbed the piece of paper.

“ ‘There is to be a meeting on Thursday at 12:01
AM
behind the thick grove of conifur trees. Watch us carefully,’ ” Venus read aloud.

“Watch
us
?” Rochelle repeated. “That implies that whoever wrote this letter will also be attending the meeting. Otherwise he or she
would have simply said, watch
them
.”

“Jeepers, what do we think this meeting is about?” Robecca babbled nervously.

“I don’t know, but come tomorrow night at 12:01
AM
, we’re going to find out,” Venus answered.

“Come, ghouls, let’s get out of here before she returns,” Rochelle said as she made her way toward the door. “If we rush we can still make it to Home Ick on time.”

After finishing Home Ick and the rest of their classes, the trio grabbed a quick bite in the Creepateria and then headed back to the Chamber of Gore and Lore. And though they were all three relieved to have a lead, they wished they didn’t have to wait over twenty-four hours to follow it.

“Venus, I’ve been thinking about Chewy a great deal lately,” Rochelle said as she climbed into bed.

“I’m glad someone else has finally realized how blooming cool my little plant man is,” Venus said as she gave Chewy a quick splash of water and a wink.

“I think we should send him to Cy’s optometrist. A pair of glasses might help him distinguish food from friend. Or to be more precise, food from Roux and Penny,” Rochelle expounded with a smile, sure that this idea would prove helpful to all involved.

“Rochelle, Rochelle, Rochelle,” Venus repeated dramatically as she put down the watering can and looked over at her pajama-clad friend. “Chewy has gone through approximately eight pairs of glasses in his life, four of which I can confirm were his.”

“
Je ne comprends pas
. What do you mean, ‘gone through’?” Rochelle asked.

“I think she means he ate them,” Robecca explained, tucking a sour-faced Penny next to her in bed.

The sun had barely risen when the soft rustle of a paper passing beneath the door to the Chamber of Gore and Lore caused Robecca to sit straight up in bed. Instantly, the familiar sensation of being late for something she couldn’t quite remember took hold. Steam pumped from her ears as she jumped out of bed. However, so sleepy was the copper ghoul that she accidentally knocked her mechanical penguin to the floor. And as Penny was crafted from metal the fall
was rather noisy, waking up both Rochelle and Venus.

“Plants need sleep,” Venus griped from beneath her straw eye mask.

“You’re not late!” Rochelle called out, her eyes still shut. “
S’il ghoul plaît
, go back to bed!”

After nearly two semesters of rooming with Robecca, both Rochelle and Venus had become accustomed to her many time deficiencies.

“Jumping Jupiter! I was about to oil myself up and race to class!” Robecca exclaimed as she shook her head and wondered if she would ever have a functioning internal clock.

“Sleep… is… very… important… to… plants.…” Venus hummed, still tucked tightly into bed.

“What’s that?” Robecca said upon seeing a
piece of paper on the floor. “Someone slipped us a note.”

“A note!” Venus cried as she popped out of bed. “Notes at Monster High haven’t proven to be a very good thing as of late!”

“
Je suis d’accord
, I agree,” Rochelle said as she threw back her covers.

Huddled together by the door, Rochelle and Venus watched as Robecca slowly unfolded the crisp piece of paper.

“The tension is driving me
complètement timbré
! Absolutely crazy!
S’il ghoul plaît
, just open the note already,” Rochelle instructed Robecca.

“ ‘Dear Frightingales, as previously discussed, we ask that all members wear Clawdeen’s Got Bloodgood T-shirts for Picture Day. And though
we very much hoped our headmistress would be home by now, she is not. So let us wear these shirts as a testament to how much we miss her. Sincerely, Draculaura and Frankie, Copresidents of the Frightingale Society.’ ”

“I can’t believe Picture Day is already here,” Venus said as Roux pranced around her feet.

“And we still don’t haven’t the faintest idea where Headmistress Bloodgood is being kept,” Robecca said with steaming nostrils.

“Who knows? Perhaps we’ll find out at tonight’s meeting,” Rochelle added.

“Jeez Louise, you don’t think one of our friend’s parents has something to do with Headmistress Bloodgood’s disappearance, do you?” Robecca asked her friends.

“I don’t know. And it might not just be one of
them; it could be all of them. As of now, there’s no way of telling,” Venus replied.

Though the mood was still uneasy at Monster High, the style-conscious ghouls and guys did their utmost to look defrightful on Picture Day. Frankie re-stitched her limbs using a silky silver thread that glistened beautifully in the sunlight. Draculaura slept with a whitener on her teeth so that she would have a crisp smile. Yellow teeth, especially fangs, were a pet peeve of many vampires, but no one more so than Draculaura. She was adamant that yellow did not
complement her alabaster skin or pink-and-black hair.

Lagoona used a seaweed mask and salt scrub, leaving her face soft and dewy, as though she’d just walked out of the ocean. Hoodude tightened the strings to his button eyes, essentially giving himself a mini face-lift. Rose and Blanche Van Sangre slept an extra hour, for they believed nothing was better for beauty than slumber. The pumpkin heads greased their jack-o’-lanterns with oil so that they would sparkle in the photos. Cleo wrapped herself in new gold-colored gauze. Toralei combed her fur for an extra twenty minutes. Operetta buffed her rhinestone eyepiece. And Deuce exfoliated the snakes on his Mohawk.

Salem’s most prestigious photographer, ghost CeeCee Thrue, offered to shoot Monster High’s
class portraits in light of the dire circumstances in town. And though no one would accuse her of being a particularly softhearted ghoul, she wanted to give the students of Monster High something wonderful to look back on after the normies walled off the town.

Dressed in head-to-toe black leather, and sporting bright red lipstick and dangly gold earrings, CeeCee looked more like a rock star than a photographer, which just so happened to be exactly how she saw herself.

“Hey! You over there!” CeeCee barked while snapping her fingers. “I need a no foam, nonfat latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. And if they don’t have nonfat milk they can mix one part whole milk with two parts water. But only if it’s filtered water. Because I don’t drink tap, got it?”

“Adult entity, I am the acting headmistress of this school, not your personal assistant,” Miss Sue Nami responded as CeeCee began setting up on the front lawn of Monster High.

“I’m not listening to you. But don’t take it personally. I don’t listen to anyone except myself. Oh, and I need that latte stat, pronto, like five minutes ago. Got it? Good. Later,” CeeCee uttered at a rapid-fire pace before turning to assemble her tripod.

Irritated by the fast-talking photographer, Miss Sue Nami stomped off, knocking two zombies and a sea creature out of her way in the process. For if there was one thing Miss Sue Nami didn’t like, it was being told what to do by anyone other than Headmistress Bloodgood.

Pounding up the front steps of the school, the
damp woman paused at the sight of Robecca, Rochelle, and Venus encircled by greasy grumbling trolls.

“For the last time, let us pass,” Venus huffed as the trolls shook their heads, sending their dirty locks flying.

“It you three! We see you! You in big trouble! We tell Scariff Fred!” a troll hollered, his grubby little cheeks softly shaking.