Abigail Rath Versus Bloodsucking Fiends

and then Rita on a Rampage would have to start murdering folks who sponsored the extracurricular activities at the YWCA.
“I have a better idea,” I said. “Maybe we could catch Revenge of the Summer Camp Gill Monster at the Alex? The film society is having my dad come out for it next weekend.” That was the kind of thing that happened in Dad’s life. One day you’re an extra, the next day you’re on the stage signing autographs as the personification of vampire-killing cool.
“That would be awesome,” said William.
Since Dad was doing a special commentary on the film, it meant we would have built in chaperones, and Dad could get a closer look at William. Something weird was going on.
Later, I lost again at limbo. Vince cheered loudly for Coral who won. I didn’t talk to him for the rest of the evening. Ned was wrong about Coral being a vampire. I didn’t understand how someone so tall could win limbo. Maybe she was folding herself into an interdimensional space.

CHAPTER SEVEN
The Terror That Is Junior High
At breakfast Monday morning, Mom, Dad and I talked about Coral’s slumber party.
Imagine Mom reading a really thick book while sipping her tea. Imagine Dad working on the crossword puzzle in the paper, because he’s already finished his breakfast and is waiting for us to finish so he can do the dishes. Imagine me wiping grape jelly off my upper lip and kissing Mom on the back of her library bun because I’m off to school. I stop in the kitchen doorway, turn and say something like this:
“Coral’s invited me to a slumber party. Can I go?”
“Yes.” Mom turns a page of the giant book.
“Yes?”
“Yes. Anything you do which reinforces the idea you are thirteen years old is okay with me.”
“I concur,” said Dad. “At least I will if your mother wants me to.”
Dad got a kiss on the cheek from Mom for his comment. I looked at the plates lining the shelf above the china. No one wants to see her parents get mushy. I turned to go again, and then I turned back. “Um, Mom, about Vince’s vampire?”
Mom looked up. “Your father and I are on it. See you after practice.”
I picked up my bento from the counter. Dad had made it. I was banking on cute octopi sausages again. As I left the kitchen, I heard Mom and Dad talking a bit about it.
“Do you think the slumber party is a good idea?” asked Dad.
“Right now, I believe Coral’s a normal girl,” said Mom. “Bring me some evidence, and I’m sure Abby will understand if we cancel.” Hunh. Mom had suspicions.
Now that I was a real person at school again, I had things to catch up on. There would be hockey practice after school every night except Friday, when we had a band concert. I play the French horn. You may wonder how someone who aspires to become a monster hunter also has time for sports and music. Hey. I don’t want to be a narrow-minded, shallow monster hunter.
There was no Marty hanging in the hallway this morning. I searched, and I found her, a fringe satellite on the edge of the Coral galaxy. I found myself staring at Coral. She had the same smolder as William, and I found myself liking her. Some people were super charismatic. Or, this was not natural. There was a vampire attack, and there was a sudden rash of crushes. I would keep my eyes open. Mom and Dad were sure to ask more questions.
I settled into my usual front row seat in science. My parents were beginning to confuse me. There was a lot of double standard going on. Do as I say. Don’t be a monster hunter. Yet, they were asking me what I thought about the vampire attack and the possibility of mental manipulation. They kept dangling their work in front of me. I cracked open our text to the chapter on scientific method, and began an internal scan. I was supposed to be an ordinary girl, if not in thought, then in deed. My parents had noticed something was weird and were consulting me about it. These two things did not intersect. They were as bad as I was at being normal, whatever that was. The next opportunity I had, I would point out to them that hunting monsters was normal for our family, and that they both were asking me questions. Maybe I could get them to come around and accept that I wanted to be a hunter too.
“Abby?”
I swiveled my head to face the front of the classroom. I can multitask, but sometimes I might miss a beat. In front of me was the word hypothesis, written large in glowing black letters on the smart board. Mrs. Lester held a computer marker like it was a scepter. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Define hypothesis.”
“A plausible explanation for observed data that goes a bit beyond what you know for sure.” Mom would have been so proud.
“Very good.” She moved on to ask Jo the next question.
I sighed. All right. I had to get logical. I had to think about how to gather unbiased data about what was going on. Dad thought someone was mind-controlling Vince. His candidate was Coral. I could observe Coral. I had to keep an open mind. I would get behind the scientific method, and keep my eyes open. Just the facts.
My eyes wandered back to Coral. She waved again.
Just the facts.
I wrote the steps of the scientific method in my notes, and underneath the list, I underscored the sentence “Keep an open mind.”
Mrs. Lester finished the review. It was time for the observtainer lab. Observtainers were boxes with a mystery in them and we couldn’t open them, but we had to guess what was inside of