Free Monster High 4: Back and Deader Than Ever by Lisi Harrison Page A

and Clawd pose against a soft gray backdrop. The camera clicks. They’re naturals. They take five to look at the proofs… but only Clawd is there….
    Lala stopped jumping. Vampires don’t show up in photographs—hence the blank box above Lala’s name every year in the Merston High yearbook and the W
here were you on photo day
? caption below it. Oh, well. Her father wouldn’t let a simple thing like that get in the way, and so neither would she. She’d just have to find someone else.
    Muscles entered the drawing room, followed by Mr. D, who shouted a final few Romanian words into the cell phone before jabbing his finger at it to end the call.
    “Dad! You’re never going to believe who just called!” she chirped the instant he hung up.
    He began texting. “Hmmm?”
    She blocked his path. “Guess!”
    He stopped just before crashing into her and finally met her dark eyes. Lala raised her eyebrows and flashed him a full-fanged smile.
    “Draculaura, I don’t have time for games. What is it?”
    Lala’s smile faded. But only for a second. He was going to be so proud…. “I won this contest, for Merston, and—”
    His BlackBerry beeped. “I have a call. Later, okay?”
    Uncle Vlad gasped.
    “But—”
    Mr. D glared at Muscles, who stepped forward and lifted Lala out of the way. The duo then hurried by and entered the kitchen.
    Lala rolled down her sleeve and slid on her sunglasses. There was no fanging way she’d let her dad see her cry.
    Ping.
TO: Lala
    June 8, 8:11 AM
    FRANKIE: WHERE R U? WE R LATE!
    Lala kissed Uncle Vlad on the cheek, grabbed her car keys, and let the door slam shut behind her. She’d rather tell Frankie the good news, anyway. She might spark. But she’d never bite.



CHAPTER EIGHT
ON YOUR MARKS… GET SET… T’EAU!
    Frankie’s outfit was no accident. One look at her yellow tennis skirt and white warm-up jacket, and the Balance Board members would assume she had a match after school. And, in the name of consideration, might hurry things along (unlike the board’s first meeting, which had lasted two hours and nine minutes). But so far, not so good. Frankie had been in the school’s chemical-scented bio lab—
like I don’t smell that enough at home!
—for fifteen minutes, and the meeting hadn’t even started. So much for subliminal dressing. The only one who noticed her outfit was Ghoulia, and that’s because Frankie had left the price tags on.
    “Order! I bring this meeting to order!” called Haylee Barron-Mendelwitz, slamming a gold-plated gavel (a gift to her father from his law firm).
    Frankie was one minute closer to freedom. All she had to do was announce Lala’s great news and then—
    “Before we get down to business,” said Haylee, reachingbehind her floral jumper and pulling out a plastic container, “let’s make sure our blood sugar is up. Some homemade flaxseed-and-cranberry-oat bars?” Haylee began handing out the brown blocky things with the urgency of a Red Cross volunteer.
    Ever since Bekka (Haylee’s former social overlord/Brett’s vengeful ex-girlfriend) transferred to Whitmore High, Haylee had come out of her shell like a molting crab. No longer forced to live in the shadows, she sought the spotlight. But not the fun kind that comes with wardrobe stylists and hair and makeup teams. More like the bossy spotlight, which tended to be fluorescent and not very flattering.
    Heath Burns, her fire-burping boyfriend, took two bars and then passed the plate to Jackson, who passed it to Brett, who passed it to Frankie. Frankie took the smallest bar, just to be polite, and handed it to Ghoulia. The zombie eyed the selection. “Mmmmmmm…” she moaned, but didn’t take one. She was clearly too smart to bite.
    “I’d like to make an announcement,” Frankie said.
    “Not before we recap.” Haylee popped open her green faux-crocodile case and pulled out a legal pad. “First item on the agenda…” She glanced at Heath over her beige glasses. He stood and