Back in the present day...

Summer break sucks a big load of hot לְחַרְבֵּן.

Draculaura came to this depressing conclusion as lonely and bored, she minced around her gated neighborhood on hot pink platform Mary Janes, matching hot pink silk parasol limp in the still afternoon heat, looking for someone to hang out with.

She'd wanted to spend the last summer before graduation wearing little more than 250 spf sunscreen in a French string bikini printed with pink and black skull patterns with her friends and Clawd, her boyfriend on the beach between road trips, a paid summer internship at a nearby vet clinic, and maybe, just maybe getting her driver's license.

That, and dad was finally coming home – he'd announced during last week's Skype chat that seeing as RADs now lived out in the open, he, as a self-proclaimed ruler of RADs, needed to relocate his main office to Salem.

Which meant he'd finally have time to do things with Draculaura.

Yay!

Too bad the now home Mr. Tepes still didn't have time to eat breakfast with her, much less take her to L.A. to spoil her with exclusive kosher vegan restaurants and no limits shopping on Rodeo Drive.

Ummm, yay?

Worse, Daddy Vlad didn't even notice when Great-Great Uncle Nosferatu drove her down to the San Francisco Baby the Stars Shine Bright so she could buy one of everything.

Oh. I see

All daddy said was after he got the bill was, "Once things settle down, I'll take you to New York, London, Tokyo, and Paris – you'll be a star!" while cutting a deal on the phone.

Sigh.

Worse, Clawd, didn't have much time for Draculaura, either. The tiny vampire with pink highlights paused as she passed the Wolf's big mailbox, almost but not quite pouting.

Clawd was taking community college classes this summer when he wasn't working for his dad's construction company to pay for those classes. In between building things and English 101, Clawd was an assistant coach at the peewee football camp to keep his skills up for next Fall when he played for the University of Oregon in Eugene. He'd wanted her to help, maybe assist the camp nurse or watch the water cooler?

Sigh. Sigh.

Clawdeen, his twin and one of Draculaura's best friends, was also too busy for Draculaura, who took out a lace hankie, one from last week's Baby the Stars Shine Bright tantrum, and daintily dabbed at her sweaty face and running makeup.

Girlfriend got sick the last week of school, missing Cleo's big party because she didn't take her annual spring heartworm pill like everybody else in the family, "I mean, nobody ever gets them. Anyway, the things taste nasty, so I flushed mine down the toidy when mom wasn't looking!"

Which meant a now thoroughly humiliated Clawdeen had to stay home for the next sixty days complete with back pains and a lot of vomiting, vet's orders.

So, no beach for Clawdeen!

(Instead. she was sewing up next school year's wardrobe as a consolation. Fashion was Draculaura's passion; but watching her friend sit behind a sewing machine with pins in her mouth MAKING fashion from old clothes from the Goodwill, was not.)

Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.

(Plus "Ouch!" when Draculaura accidentally sat on one of 'Deen's many dressmaking pins.)

Draculaura waved to Mr. Sargent, their new mailperson as he drove past in his little white mail truck. Mr. Sargent was huge, wore dreadlocks, had mandibles, and was obviously a RAD, but nobody wanted to be rude by asking what kind. But his equally large twin sons were super nice, but kinda weird. Draculaura adjusted her frilly Lolita skirt, twirled her parasol, and continued her long, lonely martyr's walk, thinking.

No beach for Cleo de Nile, either. Draculaura had been there when Cleo's dad firmly announced that instead of sitting around the house doing her nails all summer when she wasn't ordering the servants around, Cleo was going to Cairo, Illinois to help eccentric Great Aunt Neferraru, a retired priestess of Bastet, pack up her things and move to Salem because life was dangerous for little old lady of 3,000 who lived alone, owned fifty cats, and fell a lot

Cleo forgot her cool, shrieking: "Ewwwwww, Dad! Great Aunt Neferraru? She smells like mothballs, uses store brand hand lotion, and buys her clothes at yard sales!"

Cleo's dad gave Cleo "the look".

Cleo returned "the look" back.

With interest.

Cleo's dad then said, "I have spoken." And went back to perusing a catalog of antiquities for sale at next week's Christie's auction in London with his personal secretary, Jonathan Joestar.

So now, Cleo was Skyping Draculaura every evening after dinner from flyover country to complain about the smell of mothballs, cats, and being under the same roof as a closet full of cheap second-hand double-knit polyester pantsuits.

Ummmm, sigh? (Cleo could be really nice but sometimes she really got on Draculaura's nerves.)

Draculaura tip-tapped past a large redwood McMansion, the Carver's house.

She would have stopped by to say, "Hello!" and maybe see if Melody, who knew how to drive wanted to maybe drive the two of them to the Mall because even though Great-Great Uncle Nosferatu would be happy to drive her anywhere, Great-Great Uncle Nosferatu was OLD and tended to doze off behind the wheel of his bright red Ferarri – last week's impulse drive to San Francisco had been a nightmare, eternal life or not!

Eeeeeeek!

Only Melody Carver's family were on a world cruise. Draculaura's dad offered to pay for Draculaura to join them, but the Carver's were trying to have some family bonding time before Melody left them next year for Juliard on a vocal music scholarship, and well… "You understand, don't you?"

Disappointed wails all around.

Draculaura liked Melody's sister almost as much as Melody and had looked forward to hanging out with the two sisters on a cruise ship

Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.

Which left Frankie Stein.

Draculaura paused at the remains of the Stein's big art deco mailbox, feeling even smaller and more neglected than ever as she watched Mr. Sargent lumber to the Stein's front door with their mail.

Too bad Frankie was taking biology classes over at the community college when she wasn't babysitting to help pay for car repairs after she kinda-sorta dented the Stein's new Escalade last week by sideswiping their mailbox while borrowing the car to go to Starbucks without asking first.

Or owning a valid driver's license.

Whoopsie!

The now dentless Escalade was parked in the big garage. Maybe Frankie was home?

Draculaura hopefully turned onto the Stein's immaculate driveway. If Frankie was home, they could hang out, even if the Steins were weird. They could easily afford to have the car and the mailbox fixed – so why did they give Frankie the choice ofeither pay for the damage and work on getting her license, or be grounded from Cleo's big end of school party last week?

Flicker.

Draculaura halted, squinting.

Was that something pink in the Stein's bushes?

Nope.

She resumed her hopeful walk.

In Draculaura's world, if you broke stuff, you apologized, and then Great-Great Uncle Nozzy took care of the rest. When Draculaura finally asked why all the fuss, a darkly green blushing Frankie grumbled, "I think it's to make me think twice before I borrow stuff without asking, or something like that."

"Oh!"

There it was again!

Draculaura blinked. Did she just see…

No, just her imagination - if Frankie had to babysit, it might be fun walking around the neighborhood with Frankie and a stroller full of babies.

Flicker.

Draculaura's big violet eyes widened. Something was following her. Now this, was exciting - flicker, another flash of pink and white – "Ooooooh!" Draculaura cooed.

A sharp little face with huge yellow eyes stared out from under the Stein's precisely trimmed bushes.

Delighted, Draculaura dropped to her knees, snapping her fingers and whistling, $100 dollar parasol rolling into the street unheeded under the stark shadow of the looming house-turned-lab.

"Puppy!"

And then stood up, blinking

"Ummmmm... puppy?"

A girl with blonde hair streaked with pink that was exactly Draculaura's size stared back at her.

"Not puppy." The girl, who was barefoot and wearing cutoffs and a t-shirt paired with a pink and white fur collar despite the heat stood up, adding warily, "Fox, y'all!"