Chapter 10

The next morning, Dorothy got up early to train before school. It was finally Friday, but Dorothy was too worried about Monday’s practice to be excited for the weekend.

She pulled on some clothes, grabbed her skates, and headed downstairs to the old embalming room.

The large cement room was the perfect place to skate—if you ignored the spiders and didn’t think too much about the odd tools hanging from the wall or the drain at the center of the floor.

Dorothy’s skin crawled as she pushed a metal embalming table up against the wall next to a slow-dripping sink. How many dead bodies had been down here? Hundreds? More?

Pull it together, she told herself. Focus on skating.

Dorothy laced her skates and took a lap around the cement room. Her arms flailed wildly as she tried to keep both skates on the ground. Wobble, wobble, CRASH!

After several wipeouts, she found a small wheeled cart and used it like an old lady’s walker to push herself around the room. The cart’s small size forced her to bend her knees, and she found that she was instantly more balanced.

After one lap with the cart, she tried skating without it. To her surprise, she found that it wasn’t the cart that was giving her balance, it was the bend in her knees! Soon Dorothy was able to swing her arms in time with her strides, too, and she had picked up some speed.

After an hour of practice, it was time to head to school. Dorothy grabbed a cold Toaster Tart and waved good-bye to Sam, Grandma, and Morti, who were practicing Tai Chi in the parlor.

The morning air was chilly but invigorating. Autumn leaves made a satisfying crunching sound under Dorothy’s skates. She practiced hopping over sidewalk cracks and weaving through rocks and gravel, and before she knew it, she was skating into the J. Elway parking lot. No falls, no scraped knees, and no tangles with rosebushes.

And I still have time to catch up on homework, she thought as she rolled inside the school.

The halls were nearly empty. She passed a janitor pushing a broom and a couple of teachers getting ready for class. She didn’t see any students. At least not until she turned the corner to her bank of lockers. Someone was standing in front of locker number 13. Someone with silky blond hair. And she was scratching the door with a house key.

Dorothy gasped. “Alex?”

Alex whipped around, looking like a toddler caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“What are you doing to my stickers?” Dorothy yelled.

“They’re not your…They…” Alex stammered, her cheeks turning red. Alex’s jaw snapped closed and she curled her manicured fingers into trembling fists.

Dorothy’s mouth fell open. She was so surprised it took a second to register what Alex was doing.

Just as suddenly, Alex let out a tiny shriek, and with a flip of her ponytail, she ran away.

“Coward!” Dorothy yelled, slamming into her locker. Dorothy pushed off the cold metal door and skated after Alex, but an elderly teacher stuck his balding head out of his classroom door and frowned.

Dorothy hit the brakes, smiled nervously at the teacher, and skated back to her locker. She just wanted to get to the bottom of Alex’s issues.

Dorothy examined the locker door. Thin scratches scarred several of the sparkly stickers. Dorothy ran her finger over the penguin’s sash, where the lines were heaviest.

What does Alex have against Mr. Pretty? Dorothy thought. Fortunately, none of the scratches were very deep. The stickers had been sealed to the locker with a heavy coating of some sort of clear glue. Whoever had put them there had made sure that the Mr. Pretty wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Dorothy dialed in her combo and opened the door. As always, the big lips smiled back at her.

Dorothy stuck her tongue out at the sticker. “More like Slugs ’n’ Hisses,” she grumbled.

In P.E., Dorothy was determined to confront Alex, but she didn’t get the chance. Ms. Nailer ordered the class to jump rope for the whole period. After only a few minutes of jumping, the Pompoms were excused to go to the library to work on their next awareness project: Drool Ain’t Cool. Wear a Bib, Zombie People.

Jade and Dorothy took a break from jumping to watch the Pompoms trot merrily out of the gymnasium.

“Zombie bibs? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Jade said.

One of the Pompoms stuck her tongue out at Dorothy.

Dorothy scowled back. “It’s not a real project. They’re making fun of me.”

“Why?” Jade asked. “Because you’re the Undead Redhead?”

“Yeah. Something like that,” Dorothy said.

Whoosh! CRACK!

Dorothy and Jade yelped, spinning around to see Ms. Nailer brandishing a jump rope like a whip. Yellow teeth bared, she swung the rope over her head once and snapped it down just inches from Dorothy’s toes. “Now JUMP!”

Dorothy and Jade jumped.

Ms. Nailer snorted and raised the whip again. “With jump ropes?”

Thirty minutes later they were still jumping rope. Dorothy’s lungs burned, and her knees felt like Jell-O. If she kept this up much longer, she would collapse. She was sure of it.

Fortunately, the class got an unexpected break when the door to the girls’ dressing room swung open. A girl the size of a refrigerator strutted into the gymnasium. She was wearing a black leather jacket, and her hair was slicked back like that of a 1950s greaser.

Ms. Nailer stepped in front of the big girl, blocking her way. The girl took a bold step forward and glared down into the gym teacher’s sour face.

“Nice of you to show up, Dee,” Ms. Nailer growled through gritted teeth.

“Nice of you to let dead animals live in your mouth,” Dee said, leaning back and waving her hand in front of her nose.

Juana slunk farther back into her corner while Jade gave Dorothy a conspiratorial smile. Dinah, Ruth, and Lizzy giggled.

“Quiet!” Ms. Nailer barked, scanning the floor with her angry, beady eyes.

Everyone quickly went back to jumping rope.

Ms. Nailer turned back to Dee. “It’s not going to work this time, Dee. Get a rope.”

The girl shook a meaty fist in Ms. Nailer’s direction.

“Oh, come on, Nailer. You know you want to send me to detention.”

“Congratulations, Dee. You’ve just earned that detention,” Ms. Nailer said.

Dee grunted and retracted her fist. A bead of nervous sweat slid down her wide nose. “Fine. I’ll be on my way then.”

“No chance,” Ms. Nailer sneered. “You’re not getting out of my class this time. You’ll be going to after-school detention.” Ms. Nailer pointed to the jumping students. “Now get that rope.”

Dorothy exchanged looks with Jade. “Who is she?” Dorothy mouthed.

Jade crossed her wrists and jumped through the twist a few times. “Dee’s the toughest girl in school. And she ditches a lot. They say she’ll do just about anything if she thinks it will get her out of class.”

Dorothy bit her lip and stared nervously at Dee.

Dee shot Dorothy a menacing look. “You want a knuckle sandwich, twerp?”