as night fell over Monster High, the bats awoke eager to hunt. After a full day’s rest, they wanted nothing more than to gorge themselves on insects and spiders. With perked ears and open mouths, they swooped through the halls, flapping ferociously.

On the second floor of the east wing, Monster High’s boarders prepared for bed. Blanche and Rose Van Sangre, true to their gypsy roots, pulled the sheets off their beds and set up camp under a pine tree on the back lawn. The pumpkin heads, exhausted from an active day of singing and gossiping, were already fast asleep, with their bullfrogs snoring beside them. Three-Headed Freddie was nodding off while reading three different editions of the New Yuck Times bestselling book Crisis in the Middle Beast. Hoodude was, as usual, looking at pictures of Frankie Stein and fiddling with his pins. Henry Hunchback lay in bed dissecting Miss Sylphia Flapper’s exquisite beauty while Cy reminisced about a certain steam-inclined young girl.

“Today really was the absolute bee’s knees! I honestly can’t remember a better day. Well, except for the part where I forgot Penny,” Robecca said as she looked at the pajama-clad penguin sleeping next to her. “Thank heavens she doesn’t hold a grudge!”

“Actually, I’m quite sure she does. I think that’s why she always looks so grumpy,” Rochelle interrupted. “Or maybe I just think she’s grumpy because compared to Roux, everyone’s grumpy!”

“Ouch, Chewy! Watch the fingers,” Venus squealed. “By the way, I don’t know if I mentioned this already, but I wouldn’t leave any jewelry lying out. Chewy has been known to swallow an earring or two. But don’t worry—all very inexpensive stuff. He seems to prefer gold-plated. I guess it’s easier to digest.”

“Speaking of eating, I heard the trolls are vegetarians! So no need to worry about them devouring us for tardiness,” Robecca said, stifling a yawn.

“I had a seriously weird encounter with that troll yesterday in Dr. Clamdestine’s class.”

“I still can’t believe he didn’t give you detention,” Robecca added.

“He was freaking out about something, but I couldn’t understand a single word he said,” Venus remarked as she replayed the meeting in her mind.

“Well, they are quite elderly trolls. Or perhaps they’re not up to date on their rabies vaccinations; incoherent babbling is a very common sign of infection. I will definitely have to look into this,” Rochelle said firmly before turning over to sleep.

The sun had barely risen, when Robecca bolted straight out of bed like a madwoman. Steam puffed from both her ears and her nose, instantly frizzing her hair, as she darted back and forth across the room. Tucked tightly under her left arm was a still-slumbering, pajama-clad Penny.

“Good golly, Miss Molly! What time is it? What have I missed? Where’s Penny?” Robecca babbled, her brain clearly still half asleep.

“Robecca! Qu’est-ce que tu fais? It’s six thirty in the morning!”

“Deary me! I woke up absolutely sure I had slept through half the day.”

“You haven’t even slept through half the morning, so why don’t you go back to bed?” Venus said groggily from beneath the shreds of her organic-cotton mummy gauze sleep mask.

“Now, why in the name of the mouse’s house would I do that? Then I’d definitely be late. This way I might actually be on time for a change. I think I’ll take Penny out for an early-morning gear grease and then meet you guys at the Creepateria in an hour.”

The second the door slammed shut, Rochelle’s intuition told her she wouldn’t see Robecca again for ages. For no matter how much time Robecca had, it would never be enough. She simply wasn’t wired for punctuality. Why, if Rochelle weren’t a levelheaded gargoyle, she might have wondered if being late was Robecca’s destiny. Was it possible that Robecca’s life was supposed to unfold an hour or two later than scheduled?

True to form, two hours later Robecca had missed both breakfast and the morning assembly. Standing at the front of the Vampitheater and scanning the crowd for her missing roommate, Rochelle spotted a familiar miserable face.

“Bonjour, Monsieur D’eath.”

“Rochelle,” he mumbled while keeping his eyes glued to the floor.

“Did you get the Abnerzombie and Witch catalog I left on your desk? I thought you might enjoy seeing some of the latest fashions.”

“I enjoyed getting a gift,” Mr. D’eath said with a sigh. “I’ve never gotten one before.”

Rochelle was shaking her head sadly when a nearby kerfuffle grabbed her attention. While exiting the Creepateria, Deuce Gorgon had tumbled atop a pimpled troll, sending both of them straight to the ground. Without thinking or even knowing what she was doing, Rochelle dropped her bag and dashed frantically to Deuce.

“Deuce! Boo la la! Are you okay?” Rochelle inquired with genuine affection.

“Yeah, I think I’m fine,” Deuce said with a smile before lifting his head and looking straight into Rochelle’s eyes.

“You have such beautiful green eyes. They are absolutely fangtastique,” Rochelle babbled from her fog of infatuation. “They even match the snakes on your head.”

“My glasses!” Deuce screeched. He covered his eyes and began feeling around the floor.

“They’re right here,” Rochelle said as she placed them in Deuce’s hand.

“I’m pretty lucky you were the first person I saw. Turning people into stone is not very popular around here.”

“I think I’m the lucky one—to have seen your eyes, that is,” Rochelle prattled. “I’m quite sure you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. If I were you, I would just stare in the mirror all day.”

Venus suddenly threw her arm around Rochelle and inserted herself into the fast-declining conversation about Deuce’s beauty.

“Hey, Deuce, Rochelle just had a root canal, so she has no idea what she’s saying. Earlier today she asked my pet plant to marry her.”

“I most definitely did not, but I am rather certain that Chewy ate my antique watch this morning. There was a notable ticking sound coming from his pot,” Rochelle stated as Venus attempted to cover her friend’s mouth with vines.

“Well, we’d better get go—” Venus began to mumble.

“I didn’t think gargoyles could get cavities,” Deuce interjected.

“Only Scarisian gargoyles can,” Venus fibbed poorly. “It’s from… eating all that smelly cheese. A lot of people don’t realize it, but smelly cheese is really bad for your teeth.”

“That is empirically false,” Rochelle asserted after freeing her mouth of vines. “Smelly cheese has absolutely no effect on your teeth. And Deuce, you are correct; gargoyles cannot get cavities. We are, however, highly susceptible to grinding our teeth, which is why most gargoyles—my pet, Roux, included—wear night guards.”

Deuce immediately erupted in a fit of laughter. “You guys are a riot,” he declared before wandering off.

“Thanks. Yeah, this whole thing is just material from our comedy routine,” Venus called after him.

“We do not have a comedy routine. And I should mention that gargoyles are not well known for their sense of humor,” Rochelle corrected Venus.

“What is wrong with you? I was trying to help! Do you even realize that you told Deuce you were lucky to look into his eyes? That if you were him, you would stay home all day looking at yourself in the mirror? It was as if a soap-opera character hijacked your brain! And not a good one. A really embarrassing one who says things like ‘I love you, Victor Marcoplis, and I’ll make you mine if it kills me’ while looking directly into the camera.”

“Your parents let you watch too much television as a child.”

“Or maybe yours didn’t let you watch enough,” Venus shot back while fixing her tangled vines.

“Let’s debate this another time. We’re going to be late for Home Ick if we wait any longer for Robecca.”

“I think we should reconsider my idea of putting Robecca on a leash. It really is for her own good.”

“She’s not a bullfrog,” Rochelle responded, immediately thinking of the pumpkin heads’ pets.

“You do realize that bullfrogs don’t normally walk on leashes? That trio of pumpkin heads is just really weird,” Venus explained as they started down the crowded hall, heading directly into a flurry of excitement.