Super Freak (2 page)

“What do you think, Caro?” Dad asked, his arm squeezing my shoulders. I wrapped an arm around his waist and hugged back. A smile spread across my face.

“I think I like it. It has charm.”

Mom eyed a huge web near the door. “That’s one way of putting it,” she grumbled.

She was still worked up about Mr. Grouseman, or she’d have been just as excited. You could see it in the way she ogled the overgrown garden off to the side. She had the faraway look on her face that told me she was placing mums and remulching flowerbeds in her mind.

She and Dad both spotted the huge birch tree at the same time. All the bags they’d been carrying dropped to the ground and they moved toward it like I moved toward chocolate at Halloween.

“Caroline! Come on!” Mom called, never taking her eyes from the bark.

I blew the hair out of my eyes and tapped one foot. “Thanks, but you go ahead.”

They didn’t answer, and I leaned against the car door, watching as my parents circled the tree with their arms, the thick trunk almost too big for their hands to touch. Dad kicked off his shoes, his toes digging into the grass and then morphing into roots.

They leaned against the tree and sighed. I knew they were trying to communicate with it. Dad loved old trees. Always talked about how much they had to say. I crossed my arms and prayed this wouldn’t take forever.

A few moments later, he and Mom let go of the tree, swaying, their skin mottled and coarse like bark. Dad blinked a few times, and then his feet returned to normal. Mom’s skin rippled and faded back to human.

“Did you get what you wanted?”

Dad shook his head. “Not a very friendly tree.” Disapproval made the words sharp. The leaves overhead rustled, as if the tree protested. “We’ll try again another time.

“Now, let’s get to the real show.” Dad pulled a key from his pocket and headed up the porch steps, almost skipping. I shook my head at his mood swing and followed, taking a small box from Mom. He inserted the key into the lock; the metal creaking and groaning as he slid the deadbolt back and flung open the door.

“Ta-da!” he said, throwing his arms wide.

Dust coated every surface inside, and Mom dropped everything in her arms. She fished in one pocket, pulling out a wadded handkerchief and sniffled, dabbing at her eyes. Dad put an arm around her.

“Oh, George, it’s beautiful,” she gushed.

My parents were the strangest people I knew.

“I’m going to pick out a room.”

I headed for the wide staircase; dust swirled in gray puffs around my feet. The house was huge, and even I could see that someone spent a lot of time and money carving the banisters and wooden moldings around the doors and windows.

Each stair moaned and creaked as I stepped on them. Great. There’d be no sneaking around the house.

“Be careful, Caro,” Dad said, following me.

“Why? It’s a little dusty, but it doesn’t look dangerous.”

“There are a few places the realtor showed me that need some work. I’m going to repair those first thing tomorrow.”

I knew the place was a fixer-upper, but I hadn’t realized it was
that
bad. I slowed and paid more attention to where I put my feet.

“Please tell me there’s working indoor plumbing.” I stopped at the top of the stairs. My hands fisted on my hips and I waited for Dad to answer.

“Of course. You only had to use that outhouse for three days. Really, you’d think I’d made you live there without plumbing for months.”

Those had been the worst three days of my life. We stayed in a century-old house with a real outhouse where we had to use a broom handle to fish around for spiders before we could actually use the toilet. I shuddered at the thought of the hairy creatures. Dad walked into the first doorway on the left and I heard water running in a sink.

He stuck his head around the corner. “See? I told you.”

I decided to ignore the relief in his voice and focus on the fact that it worked. “It’s a good thing. I doubt there’s a hotel close.”

He ruffled my hair as I passed the doorway. I ducked and giggled, headed for the bedroom doors, all of which were open along the length of the hall. The first was small, with a single window, one pane broken out of the bottom. The next had to be the master. It was twice the size of my parents’ old room, and another doorway in the corner revealed tile floor I assumed was in the attached bath.

“No way, Caro. This one’s claimed.” Dad teased, standing behind me.

The last bedroom on the hall was mine. We both walked in, and I smiled. Other than the wall with the doorway, the rest of the room was round. Even the door to the closet had been specially made to curve with the walls.

Dad stood outside, a slight frown on his face. He paused in the doorway, putting one foot over the threshold, and then stepped back. I raised an eyebrow and he took one tentative step inside.

“This is so cool! But I’ve never seen this turret thing before.”

“Victorians believed the round shape would confuse evil spirits.” He took a couple more steps, his eyes searching for something I couldn’t see. “But this is older than that. The owners of this house, like so many that have come here, were a little out there. It’s the only farmhouse I’ve ever seen with one.” He ran his hands over a flower carved into the molding around the closet door. “I’m not sure what they used it for,” he whispered. I’m not sure he even realized he said it aloud.

I spun in the middle of the room. “Well, I like it. This is totally my room.”

He didn’t agree right away, and when I turned around, he opened his mouth, his brow furrowed as if preparing to argue. But instead he sighed. “Sure, Caro. If you want it.”

He smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes.

***

The only thing worse than the two weeks of mopping, scrubbing, dusting, and furniture arranging was school. I’d been dreading this day since we’d pulled the boxes from the car. It wasn’t the classes that bothered me. I would admit to anyone that I was a huge dork. It was being the new girl. Again.

Middle school was brutal even if you’d grown up with the people in your classes. At least then you had history with them, and maybe they’d cut you some slack. But for a new kid, without magic? I just hoped to stay far enough under the radar that no one paid attention to me.

My dad, the official historian for the National Paranormal Historical Society, had kept us traveling as long as I could remember. Not once had I managed to stay in a school district for more than two consecutive years. In all those moves, I had never been able to avoid being the odd girl out. If I’d just been a dryad like my parents, I’d be forgotten in a week. But my sheer
normalness
made me stick out like a Christmas tree at Easter. I was the butt of every joke, and the easiest kid to bully. Even the ones who didn’t have much paranormal stuff going on bullied me. Probably because I was a novelty. I didn’t even want to think about the number of papers I’d written for other people. I hefted my book bag over my shoulders. Maybe this time would be different.

The bus came down the street, slowing in front of the long driveway. I endured Mom’s hug and suggestions for making friends and then rushed to the end of the gravel lane.

“You’re late. Next time, I’ll leave you,” the bus driver said, yanking the door shut.

I nodded and sat in an empty seat near the back. I hoped this wasn’t an indication of how the rest of the day would go. Only when we started rolling again, and I looked away from the window, did I realize total silence enveloped the bus. I slouched down in my seat, trying to ignore the stares.

Two boys in front of me, eyes a little red around the rims and sunglasses perched on their sandy blond hair, watched with the most fascination. Vampire twins. Just what I needed to deal with this morning. The middle school vampires always had the same reaction to a new girl–see how long it would take to make her squirm.

I dug around for the puzzle book and pencil I kept in the front of my bag. After a few minutes of focusing on the cryptograms, I’d hardly notice if the bus crashed. Two bloodsuckers with nothing nice to say would be easy to ignore.

“Do you know where you’re living?”

Not what I expected them to say. “In a house?”

Sometimes I couldn’t contain my sarcasm. Mom says it’s a flaw. She’s probably right.

Annoyance crossed over the boy’s features. “That’s Harridan House. No one’s ever stayed there longer than a few weeks.”

I smiled, but then saw a few heads nodding.

“You think it’s haunted. So what? Every town needs a good haunted house.”

The other twin shook his head. “You don’t understand. Your house isn’t haunted, it’s cursed. It sucks the life out of people.”

I barely stopped myself from making a crude vampire pun, pasted on a smile, and flipped open to the last cryptogram I’d been working on. “Thanks for the warning, but I’m not worried about it. I haven’t seen anything unusual besides the amount of dust in that place.”

Dad’s uneasiness about the tower popped into mind, but I pushed it aside. Lots of things could have contributed to that. Not to mention that I had seen Dad getting
the boxes
out of the car. If he started on his old research again, he’d be like that a lot more.

“Hey, we were just trying to be friendly, human. If black magic kills you, it’s no skin off our noses.” He grinned, showing his fangs and stuck out one hand. “I’m Kevin and this is my brother, Leo.”

I shook the hand he offered, even though I knew the show of fang was horribly rude. His skin was cool and dry to the touch. They seemed upset that I didn’t cringe or get uncomfortable with them or the house.

“She’s not a human, idiots, so quit trying to scare her off.” A tall girl with two long blond braids draped over her shoulders came up. The boys blanched and sat back down so fast the seat vibrated.

“I’m Diana Elliot,” she said, sitting next to me.

“Caroline.” I said.

I didn’t ask why the boys were afraid of her, but she seemed to know what I was thinking. “I’m a
dhampir
. It still freaks them out. What grade are you in? I hear your dad is the National Paranormal Historical Society historian. Are you guys planning on staying or is he doing research?”

I blinked, trying to sort through which question to answer first.

“Sorry. I talk too much, and my dad runs the newspaper.”

My lips curled into a smile. I had the feeling she and I would get along well together. “I’m in eighth, he is, and I think we’re staying. I hope we are, anyway.”

“I think you and I are going to be great friends,” she said.

“A
dhampir
? A half vampire?” I asked. I knew the term, but I’d never actually met one before.

She nodded. “Yup. Other vampires don’t like us because traditionally,
dhampirs
were vampire hunters.” She flexed her muscles and winked. “We get the best of both worlds. Strength, long life, and can still enjoy the wonders of chocolate.”

I laughed. “Thanks for the help.”

Diana waved a hand. “No biggie. I mean, you aren’t a human, after all.”

“Close enough,” I muttered. She either didn’t hear me or decided not to press the issue.

Before more could be said, the bus pulled into the school lot. I sighed, marked my puzzle with the pencil and shoved it in my bag, and sank farther into the green seat. The school must have been built in the seventies by someone with serious color issues. It was squat, brick, and had a monkey-puke green stripe painted around it, breaking up the dingy white brick. Someone attempted to landscape and keep it up, but in the hot Virginia summer, that was almost impossible. The bushes looked as miserable as I felt.

“Come on, Caroline. I’ll take you to the office so you can get your schedule.”

Reluctantly, I peeled my thighs off the seat and followed her off the bus and through the heavy metal double doors. I always dreaded this part. The walk of shame. Everyone watched as I made my way through crowded halls after Diana. Her heart was in the right place, but while she was oblivious to all the eyes, I was not. No matter how often I told myself other people’s opinions didn’t matter, it was still a lie. This was middle school. Opinions decided whether you made it through the school day with all your appendages attached.

The office staff was friendly, in a distracted, frazzled way. I had a schedule in my hands and Diana told them she would show me around, so I was quickly dismissed. Just when I heaved a sigh of relief that I hadn’t seen the principal again, he rounded the corner of the hallway and spotted me. A grin broke out on his face and he called my name.

Everyone in the hallway turned and watched as he seized my hand and shook it. “How is the first day going so far?”

Forcing a smile, I answered, “Diana has decided to take me around, so things are going pretty well. Thanks.” I wished I would melt into the floor.

The secretary stuck her head out of the office door and motioned for him. I could have kissed her.

“Have a great day, Caroline. Tell your parents I said hello.”

“Sure thing,” I said. Right after I scrape my reputation off the floor.

Diana tugged my arm, pulling me to the locker they’d assigned me. I struggled with the lock while she leaned against the one next to me. “Where on earth did you meet him?”

“Right after we drove into town the other day. My Dad almost ran him over.” I said, yanking on the lock. The door swung open with a squeal.

Diana blinked. “Life with you isn’t boring, is it?”

A couple of kids snickered behind me. “I wish it was.”

Someone muttered something about being a pet behind me. Diana glared and the girl slunk away to another corner. I’d spent the last year trying not to be known as a teacher’s pet. Now I’d be known as a principal’s pet. Could life get any worse?

I should have known better than to ask that.

Paranormal Rights and Ethics was my first class. I hated the supernatural core classes. I mean, when would I ever debate the ethics of turning someone into a toad instead of turning them into a squirrel in real life? Even if I could use magic, I’d be deciding something like whether to pelt someone with acorns or use my roots to tie up their shoelaces. Dryads weren’t exactly the most dangerous bunch of supernaturals.