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Saturday morning, my parents fixed a big breakfast. I ate like a lumberjack. My stomach was still a little uneasy, but it was also quite empty, thanks to my vodka and stress induced purge behind the shed. I even drank a great big cup of black coffee. It helped offset the hours I had spent at the party instead of sleeping.
After breakfast, my mom and dad got dressed up and tried to talk me into going to check out some new health club they had signed up for. I excused myself by claiming that I had too much homework. When they left, I grabbed a trash bag and went out to the shed.
Matilda was awake and waiting for me. Her creepy zombie eyes peered out of a dark corner, and I swallowed back a yelp of terror.
“Danielle texted you after you went in last night,” she said, ignoring my fright.
“Whatever,” I snapped.
Matilda sighed. “She just wanted to let you know that she made it home alright. I texted her back and let her know that you did too. You’re supposed to call her later.” She held the phone out to me, and I snatched it away.
“Don’t reply to my messages. What if you slip up and someone realizes it’s you?”
Matilda rolled her fishy eyes. “It’s not like I snapped a picture and sent it to her, J.”
I found my muddy boots and stuffed them down in the trash bag. They were done for. So were my tunic dress and the tights I had worn the night before. The whole outfit would have to be hidden down in the bottom of the trash can in the garage.
Matilda watched me, quietly licking her dry, peeling lips. I took my time as I gathered up my belongings, until she finally snapped. “Well, what happened last night?”
“Nothing much.” It seemed stupid to relay the good news to her, seeing as how the entire stressful situation was her fault. I felt the urge to make her beg for it, but that was something Denise would do. I wasn’t Denise. I didn’t want to be Denise, but the work I had cut out for myself would definitely be easier if I could borrow her lack of morals for a day.
Matilda propped her hands on her hips and I heard her wrists pop and snap. “Nothing much? You were almost busted by Wayne’s dad, but nothing much happened?”
“I didn’t get busted. That’s all that matters.” I dusted off my bag and turned to leave.
“I don’t think so.” Matilda threw herself in front of the shed door.
I folded my arms. “Look, you’re getting your stupid masquerade prom, alright. You can stay out here until then, unless you’d like me to change my mind and tell Denise I’m okay with her disco theme.”
Matilda stepped closer to me. “The masquerade theme was your stupid idea, not mine. I have your sketchbook to prove it.”
“That was just a drawing I did years ago. You’re the one who needs it to hide your hideous face.”
Matilda squeezed her eyes shut and shrieked. Her slimy green hands found my throat, and she rattled my head on my shoulders while I tried to choke down a breath. I finally broke her hold by slugging her over the head with my bag. She stumbled backwards over the lawnmower and landed on her butt. Her broken leg twisted out beside her at a weird angle, and she shrieked again before attempting to straighten herself out.
I braced myself for another attack, and then I suddenly realized that my parents would be gone for the next few hours. The house was empty. The garbage disposal was just inside. This was my chance.
“Look, I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t mean it. Everything is going as planned. What more do you want?”
Matilda panted as she wrestled with her mangled leg. Her eyes grew feral as they rose up to meet mine. Panic sparked in me as I wondered if I had pushed her too far, or if maybe she had been a zombie so long now that her brain had finally rotted away entirely.
“Matilda?” I glanced around the shed and spotted my dad’s handsaw. A chainsaw would have been better, but honestly, I didn’t know how to start one of those things anyway. I inched towards the saw and had just gotten my fingers through the handle when Matilda stopped fighting with her leg.
She sucked in a gargled breath and wheezed. It almost sounded like she was trying to cry, but there were no bodily fluids left for her to churn out. She sobbed into her green hands and whined out a pathetic sound. It broke my heart, and I dropped the saw before she looked up at me again.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You’re doing great. Really. It’s just, we’re so close, and I still haven’t figured out how we’re going to get Wayne to go to prom with me.” Her face sagged, and I realized that the little red half circles under her eyes had dried up and turned a rusty brown color. Her cheeks looked more hollow, and her hair was falling out in clumps. Maybe I wouldn’t need the garbage disposal after all, I thought remorsefully.
I swallowed and looked back at the shed door. Of all the emotions stirring in me right now, only the nasty ones were urging me to finish off Matilda. Greed made me want Wayne for myself. Vengeance made me want to crush her dreams the way she had crushed mine. Worry made me want to get rid of her before she was discovered and I ended up getting locked in a padded room for the rest of my days.
There were still slivers of decency in the mix though. In fact, there was just enough pity, guilt, and hope to push away the thought of the garbage disposal for good. My eyes glassed over as I finally let go of the notion of going to prom with Wayne. I’d had my fill of vindictive behavior lately. It was time to do something charitable. Besides, starting with Matilda had to earn me some seriously good karma points.
I spent the rest of the weekend hiding out in my room, scribbling away in a new sketchbook. I doodled out a few mask and dress ideas. I didn’t plan on showing them to the Ds. It was just comforting to doodle while I brainstormed. I desperately wished that I could call Chloe and ask for help, but I still had to impress the Ds for a few more weeks.
When Monday came, I had cooked up a really lousy idea. I was going to invite Wayne over after school. My mom was taking a yoga class at the new health club, so we’d have some privacy. I had a really lame story about a shy friend of mine from another town who was badly disfigured in an accident. She was too embarrassed to go to her own prom, so I thought she’d like to go to our masquerade prom. If only she had a date. It wasn’t entirely a lie. Matilda had been disfigured in the accident.
I still wasn’t sure what we were going to do about her green zombie skin. Her ripening stench was going to pose an issue too, but first things first. I had to get her date lined up. Everything else would be easy compared to that.
I didn’t sneak around with my clothes and makeup in the morning. I just didn’t have the stomach to pull the wool over my mom’s eyes again. Instead, I only applied mascara and lip gloss. I wore a gray sweater and a pair of skinny jeans with Matilda’s blue shoes.
Matilda didn’t even complain as I dressed myself. She sulked in the back corner of my closet, looking like a ragdoll propped up in the corner. She coughed every now and then and wheezed like a dying old dog.
“I have company coming over after school. Try to be scarce, okay?” I handed her the last can of Febreze from the kitchen and left for school.
My mom did a double-take when I came downstairs. “You look... nice,” she said, shaking her head at my skeptical frown. “Really, Janie. Now that’s how you’re supposed to use makeup. It looks really tasteful.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I smiled. It really didn’t matter if the Ds didn’t approve today. My mom did, and that was good enough for me.
I skipped the morning smoke break, going straight to first period instead, and found my old desk at the front of the class. When Denise and Mitch finally arrived, they paused at their usual desks, but then quickly joined me in the front row.
“What are you doing up here?” Denise hissed at me as the bell rang.
I shrugged. “Midterms are coming up. Time to knuckle down.”
Mitch leaned in closer. “Maybe you can help me study for the test next week,” he whispered. Denise’s jaw clenched as she waited for my response.
I smirked at her. “Maybe we can all get together and study at Marco’s one night,” I suggested.
Denise’s shoulders slacked and she crossed her legs. “Hey, the prom committee meeting is after first lunch today in Mrs. Walters’ room. Are you coming?”
I cringed, wondering if Chloe would be there, but I nodded. “Yeah. That’s during my lunch period, but I’ll be there.” I just hoped I’d have enough time to talk to Wayne before algebra so I could invite him over after school.
Second period advanced chemistry was torture. Mrs. Roth was in overdrive, trying to play catch up after the lab theft. She paced the room like a maniacal panther hungry for a kill.
“Now that you’ve finished up all of the papers you had to write on the documentaries we watched a few weeks ago, we’re finally moving on to the biochemistry segment of the syllabus. The new batch of blood I ordered just came in this morning. So tonight, I want you all to read chapter nineteen and do the essay study questions. Tomorrow will be a lab day,” she announced, clapping her hands together.
Mitch tried to hit on me again in third period history. I didn’t give him the big brush off just yet. I had to be sure that Denise would follow through with her end of the bargain first. I was all nerves through fourth period health. As soon as the lunch bell rang, I headed up to the art room.
Chloe wasn’t in her cubical when I got there. The space looked lonely without her. I stopped to check out her newest creation, and paled when I recognized my own face staring back at me. It was a photorealistic likeness, painted from a snapshot taken of the two of us from last Halloween.
She had gone as a Dalek and I went as the TARDIS. They were girly, con-worthy costumes that would have had nerd boys drooling, if we had been brave enough to go to a party. Instead, we had stayed at my house and passed out candy, in between watching cheesy B horror films and making ourselves sick by eating too much sugar and popcorn.
Danielle arrived in the art room shorty after me and paused to check out the painting too. “Huh. That one on the right looks a lot like you,” she said.
“Yeah. Huh.” I shrugged and went up to the front of the room where Mrs. Walters’ desk was nestled in the corner.
Heaps of charcoal drawings and watercolor paintings were stacked everywhere. Mrs. Walters’ frizzy red hair sprang up from under her desk. She was probably just tying her shoe or picking up a pencil, but it had looked like she just emerged from some other dimension. She pushed her glasses up on her nose, shrinking her magnified bug eyes down to a slightly less horrifying size.
“Is this everyone?” she asked.
Just then, Denise and Amanda walked through the door, chattering away about nothing of particular interest. Denise gave me a terse smile, and then she and Amanda sat down next to Danielle and me behind a long table covered in speckled paint and chunks of smeared pastels. She crinkled her nose at the mess and decided to set her bag down in her lap instead.
“Okay, ladies. Have we decided on a theme for prom?” Mrs. Walters asked.
“I think we have.” Denise cleared her throat. “Everyone seems to really like my disco idea.”
I turned to glare at her. “I thought we agreed to do a masquerade theme over the weekend. What changed?”
“Well,” Denise said sweetly, “When Mitch asked me to be his date for prom at lunch, he said that he and the rest of the football team thought a disco theme would be really cool.” She turned to look at Amanda. “The cheerleaders seem to think it’s a great idea too.”
I glanced back at Danielle. “And what do you think?”
Danielle snorted and narrowed her eyes on Denise. “I thought we had already agreed on a masquerade theme too.”
Mrs. Walters took note of the tension and laughed nervously. “Well, how about we meet up again tomorrow. You can each prepare a presentation, and it wouldn’t hurt to bring a few more girls along with you so that we could vote on the matter. Yes?”
“That sounds great,” Amanda chirped. “I can bring the whole squad.”
My heart sank. Denise had backed out of our agreement. I was going to have to do the unthinkable and ask Mitch to take me to prom. My stomach knotted. First period was going to be war tomorrow.
I didn’t bother going to the cafeteria. I had lost my appetite. Instead, I wandered the halls. I pouted and sulked all the way to my locker, where Eddie was waiting for me with his hands tucked in his pockets.
“Eddie, I already told you that I can’t go to prom with you. In fact, it looks like I might have to go with Mitch Brown,” I said before he could open his mouth.
“Mitch Brown? What?”
“I have to go, Eddie. I’m sorry.”
He grabbed my arm. “Stop, please. I need to say this, or I never will.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Then maybe you shouldn’t. I really don’t want to hurt your feelings, Eddie.”
I don’t think I had ever heard Eddie growl before. It startled me, and I gasped. “It is really sickening how full of yourself you’ve become lately,” he said, taking both hands and running them through his dark curls.
I huffed at him and folded my arms.
“Just listen. I have to say this, and then you don’t ever have to talk to me again if you don’t want to, which you probably won’t, once you hear what I have to say.”
“Fine. Spit it out, so I can get on with my life.”
He swallowed and closed his eyes. “I screwed up, and I’m pretty sure this is all my fault.”
“You’re pretty sure what is all your fault?”
“This.” He waved his hands at me. “You.”
“Excuse me?”
“I screwed up the spell. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I did, and I screwed it up.”
“Spell?” I laughed.
“Yes,” Eddie insisted. “I took the chicken blood from the science lab. It didn’t work the way it was supposed to.”
“Chicken blood? What are you talking about?”
He grabbed my shoulders and squeezed them. “The missing blood from your advanced chemistry class. That was me. I took it. I went out to the graveyard. I did the spell. It didn’t work. Or at least, I didn’t think it had worked. But then when you started acting all weird and snobby like Matilda and the Ds, I realized it had worked, only not the way it was supposed to.” He looked down and shook his head. “I must have switched the hair somehow.”
“Graveyard? Hair? Blood? Have you lost your mind?” I tried to pull away from him, but he held tight.
“Don’t you get it? I tried to raise Matilda Hunt from the grave. I thought if she were still here that you wouldn’t be so obsessed with Wayne, since they’d still be together. Then maybe you’d go to prom with me.” Eddie’s wide eyes plowed into mine, and I finally heard what he was saying. He was right. This was all his fault.
I finally jerked my arms out of his grasp. Then I reeled back and slapped him hard enough to leave a perfect hand-shaped welt on his cheek.
“Your spell worked just fine,” I whispered. “And this,” I waved a hand at myself, “is all your fault. I hate you.”