CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHARGED UP

A pebble bounced off the frosted-glass window.

Then another. Plink.

Frankie rolled onto her back.

And another. Plink.

She thought of a woman tapping impatiently on a countertop. Maybe it was that angry mob from her dreams, coming to put her out of her misery, once and for all.

She rolled onto her stomach, the lyrics of Alicia Keys’s “Try Sleeping With a Broken Heart” playing on a constant loop in her head. Frankie wanted to stand on her metal bed and shout, “I’m trying to right now, and it’s incredibly hard because I can’t stop thinking about Brett, D.J., my friends, my family, and all the people who are afraid of me, so will you please keep it down?” But she didn’t want to wake her parents. The sun would rise in an hour, and they’d be up shortly after that.

And then what?

Rolling onto her back, she wondered how much longer she could avoid them by pretending to sleep. A day? A week? A decade? Whatever it took, she was up for it. Shame was an intolerable emotion. But it required the presence of another person to survive. Someone to tisk-tisk while shaking their head side to side, then to rattle off the ways she had disappointed them. Without that person, the emotion gets downgraded to guilt. And while guilt can also be horribly uncomfortable, it’s an easier sentence to serve, because it’s self-imposed. And can therefore be self-removed.

“Firecracker?”

Frankie sat up slowly, not sure whether she should trust her ears. After all, they were controlled by her brain, which had proven to be very unreliable.

“Firecracker! Open up!”

D.J. is back!

Frankie thought about playing hard to get and making him think she’d moved on. Girls did it in movies all the time. But she was under house arrest. Where would she be moving on to, exactly? The kitchen?

“Shhhh,” she hissed, quickly covering the unsightly hospital gown with her black satin Harajuku Lovers robe.

Frankie unlatched the window. D.J. quickly squeezed inside, like a grown dog through a puppy door. The sight of him spread a neon rainbow across her stormy day. Which was odd, since she had been all about Brett less than ten hours earlier. Or maybe she was all about D.J. then too, but she just hadn’t known it yet.

“What happened to you? Why did you take off like…” Frankie paused as a second body began to poke through the window. It had shiny dark hair, black clothes, and a perfect nose. And it landed with a thump.

“Shhhh,” Frankie hissed again.

“Oh my god, it’s you,” Melody said, awestruck. “Your skin is really gree—”

“What is she doing here?” Frankie toggled between confusion and rage.

“I have no idea.” D.J. twirled his index finger near his temple, crossed his eyes, and then whispered, “I think she’s obsessed with me.”

“Whoa!” Melody wandered farther into the room. “What is this place?” She pointed at the glass cage by Frankie’s bed. “Ew, are those rats?”

“Seriously, why is she here?” Frankie snapped.

D.J. pressed his mouth against her ear. “She’s everywhere lately. I’m considering a restraining order.”

His warm breath against her neck made Frankie spark from both hands.

“Man, I missed that.” D.J. pulled her in for a hug.

“What’s with that table? And those copper wires? And that switch marked HIGH VOLTAGE?” Melody asked, slack-jawed. “What is this place?”

“Why were you acting so weird before?” Frankie asked D.J., and she pushed him away, desperate for answers. “Why did you just take off? Why—”

“What are you? Like, Frankenstein’s daughter or something?” Melody laughed.

“Granddaughter, if you must know,” Frankie snapped. “And if you keep interrupting me, I’m going to shock you like I did that day in the cafeteria.”

Melody hurried toward her. “But you looked so…”

Frankie put her hands on her hips and glared. “White?”

Melody nodded.

Frankie sniffed. “Yeah, well, people around here aren’t as go-green as they claim.”

“I think you’re awesome-looking.” Melody stepped closer and reached for Frankie’s hand. “Can I?”

Frankie shrugged like she didn’t care. “If you want.”

“Are you going to shock me again?” Melody teased.

“Maybe.”

Melody studied Frankie’s expression with serious gray eyes, as if it might reveal her true intentions. But whether it did or not, Melody still touched her. She wasn’t afraid to run a finger along Frankie’s wrist seam. Or maybe she was, but she did it anyway. Frankie respected that.

“Wanna touch my skin?” Melody asked, like she was a monster too.

Frankie nodded. “Feels like mine, only colder.”

“Yeah.” Melody rolled her eyes. “I’m always cold.”

“Really? I’m always hot. I guess it’s from getting charged and stuff.”

“So, wait.” Melody cocked her head. “You really get charged? How does that work?”

“Um, hello.” D.J. pointed at his face. “Handsome guy in the room!”

Melody giggled. Frankie wasn’t quite there yet.

Outside, the creeping morning light began brightening the milky frosting on the window. Still, it was impossible to see anything clearly. Frankie’s view—a kaleidoscope of blurry shapes and shadows—was a warning. Visiting hours were almost over.

“So, what happened to you?” she asked D.J., getting back to business. “Why did you act like you didn’t know me, and just take off?”

“Maybe I can explain.” Melody waved awkwardly, a stranger all over again.

“Just like a stalker…” D.J. mumbled. “An explanation for everything.”

Frankie searched for a place to sit, now that her lounge was gone. But she quickly gave up once Melody began.

As the rising sun continued to count down the minutes, the normie talked about her crush on Jackson Jekyll, his overheating issues, his mother, who was Ms. J the science teacher, his deranged ancestor, and how sweat plus deranged ancestor equaled D.J. Hyde.

Then she went on about Bekka, jealousy, Brett, the kiss, the head incident, the video of Jackson, the blackmail, needing to turn in Frankie, the forty-eight-hour deadline—which was now more like forty-six—and how she didn’t know what to do.

“So, let me get this straight.” D.J. beamed before Frankie could respond. “I’m hooking up with both of you?”

Melody sighed. “Technically.”

“Yeah!” D.J. high-fived himself.

Frankie touched the back pocket of his jeans. There was a sizzle-pop sound and then a flash of light.

“Ouch!” he shouted, grabbing his butt.

“Shhhhhh.” Frankie covered his mouth.

“That one hurt!” he mumbled through her hand.

“It was supposed to.” Frankie stepped away. “In case you weren’t listening, none of this is good news. None of it!”

“Fine.” He walked away, fanning the back of his jeans.

“So you’re going to turn me over to Bekka?” Frankie’s voice trembled.

“Well.” Melody sighed. “I was initially, I guess… but…” She sighed again. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Why not?” Frankie looked down. A teardrop landed on her robe and bled across the black satin. “Everyone else does.”

Melody looked like she was considering this. “I guess I know how you feel.”

“Wait…” Frankie lifted her eyes. “Are you a RAD?”

“What’s a RAD?”

“It’s the nonoffensive way of saying ‘monster,’” Frankie explained. “It means Regular Attribute Dodger.”

“I was, but I kind of stopped dodging.” Melody grinned, as if bidding farewell to a fading memory. She pointed at her nose for some reason. “But sometimes I wish I hadn’t.”

“Why?” Frankie asked, unable to imagine why anyone would want to go through what she was going through now.

“Because when you’re different-looking and people like you anyway, you know it’s for all the right reasons. And not because they think you’re a physical threat who might steal their boyfriend.”

“Huh?” Frankie dried her cheeks with the sleeve of her robe.

“I’m saying I’m on your side.” Melody smiled a worried but pretty smile. “I don’t want to give in to intimidation. I want to fight. I want people to stop being so afraid of each other’s differences. So people like Jackson… and you…”

“And me,” D.J. added.

“… and D.J. can live normal lives.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Frankie reached for her neck seams but hit gauze.

“First we have to get that video away from Bekka,” Melody said.

“How? I’m not allowed to leave this room for, like, ever, so…” Saying it out loud made it real.

“I have no idea,” Melody admitted. “But I do know we have to work together, we can’t get caught, and we have two days to pull it off.”

“Oh, voltage.” Frankie sighed hopelessly.

Melody offered her right hand to Frankie. “Are you in?”

“I’m in,” Frankie said, shaking it.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” Melody admitted.

“Yes, it is,” D.J. said as he lovingly lifted two members of the Glitterati from their cage. He held up a rat in each hand as if weighing them, and then kissed them both. “The hard part is deciding who gets me when all of this is over.”

Frankie sparked. But this time Melody didn’t pull away. Neither did Frankie. Instead, they continued shaking hands, cementing their allegiance in the battle for tolerance and acceptance…

… and declaring war in their fight for love.