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

faced the room. The sleeves on his blue-and-white plaid button-down were too short. His pale wrist bones stuck out like bolts.
    “Uh… number one: We agreed that Haylee is chair—”
    Frankie giggled.
How can she be a chair?
    Heath continued. “I’m the reporter—”
    “It’s called a secretary,” Haylee corrected.
    “That’s a girlie title,” he insisted. “I like reporter.”
    Brett snickered. He made a finger gun and pointed it at Heath.
Pow
, he mouthed.
    Heath whipped his napkin at Brett. It landed on Brett’s desk with a curious thud. He peeled it open to find a half-chewed oat bar. Brett whipped it back, and the two broke into hysterics.
    “Order!” Haylee called, slamming her gavel. “Proceed.”
    It took Heath a few seconds to stop laughing before he could continue. “Frankie is social coordinator, Jackson is creative coordinator, and Brett is the liaison of cool.” The guys high-fived in honor of Brett’s hard-won title. Frankie beamed. She and her guy had the coolest jobs.
    “Ceeee… eeeee… ohhh,” moaned Ghoulia.
    “Oh, sorry, Ghouls,” Heath said, flipping a page in his Megan Fox notebook. “You’re CEO—chief executive observer.”
    “Mmmmmm,” she smile-moaned.
    Heath continued. “Number two: Haylee moved that we create a peer-counseling corner in the library, where students can talk about assimilation problems. Frankie moved we transition to half-days in June in honor of the summer solstice. Jackson wants to turn the cafeteria walls into giant murals, bump up the air-conditioning, and build a recording studio. And then Frankie said she needed a charge, so we adjourned—” Heath gripped his belly. “Ouch,” he moaned.
    “What is it?” Haylee asked, racing to his side.
    Heath doubled over. “I think I ate too many nut bars.”
    Uh-oh!
    “Take cover!” Brett shouted. “Fire in the hole!”
    Haylee reached for her gear—a fire-retardant backpack filled with an extinguisher, sand, and aloe.
    Jackson ran toward the hall. Ghoulia yawned. Frankie shot under her desk. The last thing she needed was for Heath to blow booty and ignite her new tennis outfit. Brett crouched next to her and winked. She blew him a kiss and crossed her fingers.
    A blast of heat blew through the room, followed by a blast of foam. The ends of Frankie’s hair sizzled, but her skirt stayed intact.
Mint!
    “Sorry, guys. You can come out now.”
    Brett and Frankie wiggled out from under their desks and into what had become a winter wonderland. Brett’s spiky hair was smoking. Jackson reentered slowly, hand fan cranking. Ghoulia had remained seated the whole time, reading her
Dead Fast
graphic novel.
    “Nice going,” Heath said, high-fiving Haylee. “You got it out before the alarm this time.”
    Like an outlaw, Haylee blew the remaining foam bits off the hose and stuffed the extinguisher back into the bag. “Beat my best time by nine seconds.”
    A black crater had melted in the chalkboard behind Haylee’s head. She removed her melted orange headband and smoothed her mousy brown bangs. “And now for some exciting news…” she began.
    Frankie stood and smiled. “It’s more like voltage news.”
    “Not yet,” Haylee hissed, motioning for Frankie to take her seat.
    Ghoulia made a noise. It sounded like a laugh being stretched.
    “We have been asked by Principal Weeks to host the Senior Luncheon on graduation day,” Haylee said. “Quite an honor.”
    Outside the window, three freshman girls were playing HackySack on the grass. They were sharing a carton of orange juice and giggling every time one of them missed a shot. What Frankie wouldn’t have done to be there with—
    “Frankie! Are you even listening?” Haylee snapped.
    “Huh?”
    “Since you’re social coordinator, you’ll run lead on the luncheon.”
    Frankie sparked. Throwing parties was not on the to-do-or die list. Attending them was. “I, um—”
    “All right, all right,” Haylee said. “I’ll do it.”
    “Really?”