Free Teen Frankenstein by Chandler Baker Page B

“Thank you, Adam,” I said. “That’s, um, that’s very sweet.”
    He beamed. I swung my backpack around and stuffed the calendar inside as we ushered Adam into the administration office.
    â€œAre you seriously going to keep that?” Owen asked close to my ear.
    â€œWhat am I supposed to do, dump it in the trash in front of his face?”
    The glass door swung shut behind us. “It’s autographed. If I were you, I’d burn it.”
    The administration office had orange carpeting. I imagined it was meant to tie in with the school colors. It didn’t. It was the color of Cheez Whiz.
    â€œShut up,” I said, noticing that Mrs. Van Lullen was peering over her glasses at us. “We’re on.”
    I squared my shoulders and strode up to the desk, wishing that I’d chosen something more presentable than a loose-fitting baseball tee. “Hi, Mrs. Van Lullen. I wanted to introduce you to a new student. This is Adam Smith. I believe his mother e-mailed you yesterday for the paperwork?”
    Mrs. Van Lullen painted her lips into the shape of a heart and favored overstretched cardigans that never failed to clash miserably with the spray-on cheese decor.
    â€œNice of you two to join us today, Ms. Frankenstein,” she greeted me in return. “May I see your guardian or doctor’s notes for yesterday’s absence?”
    I winced. It figured that an otherwise perfect attendance record would be the thing to come back and bite us. “Um…” I made a show of patting down my pockets.
    She waited until I finished acting. “I see,” she said, jotting something down in a notepad with quick, staccato handwriting. “Adam, you said?” She didn’t look up. Not right away.
    I felt Owen prod Adam forward. He stood so still I might have sworn he was a mannequin. I nodded at him and he twitched to life as though remembering his lines. “I am Adam Smith. I come from Elgin, Illinois. I am sixteen years old. I am a junior. Victoria is my family friend. I am staying with her while my parents wrap up our move to the Lone Star State. Please, I would like to enroll in Hollow Pines High School.”
    Mental head-thunk. Owen sucked in his breath. Mrs. Van Lullen leveled her chin and stared at us. She was allergic to shenanigans, as she called them, unless said shenanigans came from the right sources, and those were, namely, the Billys and the Oilerettes. We were neither of those, and the wild knocking of my heart threatened to give us all away.
    â€œElgin,” she said, only she drew the word out so long she could have said it twice. She crossed her arms over an egg yolk cardigan and pursed her lips. “You’re awfully big, Adam. Did you play football where you’re from?”
    He looked back to Mrs. Van Lullen, holding her eye contact with the directness of a sociopath, and said, “I don’t think so.”
    She frowned and slid the folder from the desk to examine. “You don’t think so? It’s hardly a trick question.”
    I glanced nervously between Adam and Mrs. Van Lullen and burst into spontaneous fake laughter. I slapped my knee. “Oh, Adam.” I hiked my thumb in his direction. I was a terrible actress. Owen physically distanced himself from me like I was having a psychotic break, though perhaps that wasn’t so far off. “This one…” I stuck with my nervous chuckle. “He’s always such a kidder. You’ll see.” My laughter died under the hard stare of the administrator. “Er, no, he’s never played football.” I tugged at the hem of my T-shirt. “Adam here is a pacifist.” He smiled in return.
    â€œI don’t like kids trying to be fresh with me,” she said.
    I cleared my throat. “He’s not being fresh,” I added. “On the contrary, he’s downright stale, I think.”
    She slid her glasses down her nose and held out a