Jackson Jekyll wasn't one for surprises.
Once he'd gone through today's mail, disappointment hit him like a brick. No acceptance letters. Aside from normal, human universities, his remaining options were monster universities. He stared up at the gray sky and gripped the envelopes in his hands. The last thing he wanted was to feel like an outcast. Again.
It wasn't like they didn't respect him at Monster High.
It wasn't like he hadn't made some of his best friends at Monster High.
But he still didn't feel like he belonged at Monster High.
Even though his dad was a monster.
Even though his mom was half-monster.
Even though there was a legitimate monster within Jackson himself.
He didn't belong, and he never truly would.
Maybe they're just deliberating, Jackson hoped. Maybe they need to accept plenty of other stellar humans before they accept one who is technically part monster.
For what felt like the millionth time, Holt Hyde held Jackson Jekyll back.
Jackson hadn't realized why he had transferred to a monster high school in the middle of the year—he thought it was because he grew up with them. Then Holt revealed himself. It turned out that he'd been a part of the night class at Monster High. The school combined their schedule when they knew, ripping them out of their usual day and night classes. It took months to convince the school board that they, in fact, needed two separate schedules, as Jackson retained nothing Holt learned and vice versa. Leaks of information here and there were nowhere near enough, especially when his mind only picked and chose. Important things ranged from knowing Holt was innocent that one Halloween to knowing his favorite band. School apparently didn't count as "important."
When it came to school, their shared body had managed fine before. They took a summer to make up for their classes.
They were individuals, and they even had to convince their parents of it. They had to convince each other of it. Jackson swallowed. Knowing the history of Dr. Jekyll, he was reassured that he was an individual at the very least. But it didn't take reading Holt's journal to know that he had the occasional existential crisis, even after his more lighthearted entries. No, waking up to melted pens at their desk and Holt's clearly flung headphones was enough.
Their mom had hoped they were "growing into each other." Easy for her to say. Her Hyde was still her, but more. Their dad went along with everything she said. After all, Mom was the closest they had to an expert in the Jekyll/Hyde curse.
Curse.
Jackson couldn't think of a more fitting word.
He slammed the mailbox and drove the car to school. The sedan's A/C barely killed the heat, and Jackson pushed his sweaty bangs off his face upon parking. Then again, his sweater vest didn't help with the weather either. Better than riding the school hearse.
School's only just started, he thought. There's nothing to worry about. I'll get accepted somewhere. Maybe a human community college will take me. That's something.
Jackson was early, yet the halls of Monster High were full of students. They rushed about with papers and tools ranging from cardboard boxes to blowtorches. In their second-to-last year of school, students had to come up with a project to add one last formidable thing to their resume. It could be a community project, a thesis, a report of sorts, or anything that showcased their talent and uniqueness.
Since it was his last year, Jackson was glad to put the hustle and bustle of the task behind him. Most students finished their projects in the summer, but it was no surprise to see some leaving it for the last minute.
He made his way to the gym. Jackson often took a moment to dribble a casketball to clear his thoughts before class. To his dismay, monsters crowded the gym. Jackson took a seat on the bleachers instead.
In front of him, Heath snagged Abbey to give him pointers on his project, as she had already completed hers. Beside them were Draculaura and her group of friends. Frankie sat in the center, and Lagoona wrapped an arm around her and gave her a comforting squeeze.
"It's alright, love," she said, "we know it's been a tough summer for you."
"Yeah, Frankie," Draculaura said. "We can even take this up with Miss Bloodgood. She has to understand! She totes had a boyfriend at some point, right?"
Frankie sniffed. "Don't worry, ghouls. It's been three months. I had plenty of time to get this project done."
Cleo shook her head stiffly. "A breakup is nothing to take lightly. You two dated for nearly a year, and he breaks up with you a month before your birthday! The nerve of him."
"Hold on, Cleo," Clawdeen raised a clawed hand, "being in or out of a relationship doesn't define any ghoul, remember?"
"Yeah!" Draculaura chimed in. She bit her thumbnail. "But even so, we all thought Neighthan was a good guy."
"He's not a bad guy." Frankie wiped her eyes. "It's my fault I didn't work on my project this summer. It's not like anything was stopping me."
Last year, the zombiecorn hybrid had made it official with Frankie, Jackson's kinda-sorta ex. In May, he listened to Frankie cry over the phone as she lamented about the end of their relationship. Jackson expected himself to feel a sort of relief when she told him, but to his surprise, he sympathized. He thought he'd expect Frankie to want to date him again. But he didn't. Instead, he took her out for ice cream. Jackson ended the night with a tear-stained shoulder and Frankie thanking him for being such a good friend.
The words didn't sting, because that's all they were. Jackson had liked her for a long while, and he didn't imagine that would change. Even when they had hung out together, he still had that sliver of a crush.
Jackson Jekyll, we ARE friends, she had once said. I know that, and you know that.
But like he told her on their not-a-date picnic: he didn't want to bring her into his life until he had worked things out with Holt. And they pretty much had since then. Issues came up every now and again, but it was good overall. They had worked things out so well that they even had separate dates to prom. Jackson had tried asking Frankie, but she didn't get the hint. Toralei did though, and Jackson had such a great time he had forgotten he was responsible for a whole other person.
Then Frankie started dating Neighthan. And Jackson… was jealous. At first. It wasn't long before he was surprisingly unbothered. Aside from that and a centaur named Archer, he couldn't remember the last time he was jealous of another guy aside from Holt. Not that he could entirely blame Frankie as he had taken another ghoul to prom and kissed his crush. Jackson gladly attended the Fraidy Hawkins dance with a cute ghoul and moved on.
He didn't realize it until he finally had Frankie for himself. It sunk in, then: having a girl best friend wasn't complicated at all.
But there was the voice in the back of his head that nagged him in moments like these.
Wait until Holt finds out.
Once Frankie had started dating Neighthan, Jackson woke in the darkened halls of the catacombs alone. Jackson had felt the thrumming bass of the party pulsing beneath his feet. His eyes were dry and his face was wet. His chest ached.
Holt found out.
So, Jackson had gone home. The last thing Holt needed was to drown himself in a party.
Jackson knew Holt hoped Frankie would press play on their relationship. It irritated him to no end when he found out Holt took her on dates during their pause. Jackson cringed. He had found out during an awful school newspaper interview where they switched back-and-forth so fast that their mind-leakage had him feeling like he was awake while dreaming. But then the dates had dwindled and ended completely. When Frankie had a boyfriend, Holt gave up.
At least, that's what it looked like to Jackson. The name "Holt Hyde" rarely left Frankie's lips. Not for dates, not flirting, and not even about parties.
Jackson wasn't about to sit around comforting Holt—not like he really could. Waking up to Holt's opened songwriting journals was enough to tell him how he was coping.
But he got over it. And so did Jackson.
But now, the ever-coveted Frankie Stein was single... and Holt didn't know.
Jackson wasn't about to tell him, and Frankie and Holt's estrangement was none of his business.
That's what it meant to be two individuals, right?
Two individuals.
Jackson buried his head in his hands. Just yesterday, Holt had received an acceptance letter to Booliard. Their mom said that he was already in talks about rooming with Operetta, as she too was accepted. They even discussed a celebration party.
But not until Jackson got an acceptance letter, too.
"On the bright side," Cleo exclaimed, "that gargoyle on the football team is single. You could hardly get a word out around him. An undeniable crush. What's his name again?"
"I don't think she needs a rebound right now, mate," Lagoona said as she rubbed Frankie's back.
She sniffled at her touch. "I'm not looking for anyone right now."
"Don't fret, Frankie. Love will come on its own, you can't control that. So the best course of action is to focus on your project."
"Maybe my project could inspire you, Frankie," Ghoulia moaned in Zombie. "I'm almost done with it, and I think you'll like it."
"Really?"
Jackson jumped as Frankie clapped her hands together.
"Thank you so much, Ghoulia!"
"Remember Hexiciah's time teleporter?" Ghoulia said. "I've cleared out my setup in the lab and now it's an essential component of my project."
"Isn't using that thing a little risky?" Clawdeen asked. "I mean, poor Cleo was fused with Toralei."
The mummy ghoul groaned. "Don't remind me." She rested a hand on Ghoulia's shoulder. "Not to worry, ghouls. Ghoulia has been very careful all summer long. Besides, the time teleporter defused us, so it's harmless."
Jackson perked up. He remembered when the ghouls had fused together, but he never asked how. Now, he wondered why he never had.
Maybe he could finally be free of Holt Hyde.
Once the school day ended, Jackson trailed behind Ghoulia and Frankie across the front lawn to the school's graveyard. He waited until after they took the elevator and descended himself. He made it down not a moment too soon and hopped in after them through the lab's golden door. He pressed himself to the wall and waited in a dark corner.
Ghoulia trailed on about her project to Frankie and held up the blueprints and notes of the time teleporter, hers and Hexiciah's. Her project was on minor evolutionary changes in certain animals in the past hundred years and would use her pet owl to compare the differences. But that was only the technical aspect, apparently. Once the zombie went into the social aspect of her project, Jackson zoned out. How much longer would he have to wait?
"Maybe," Frankie hesitated. "I could do a history project? My parents oughta know something about the past since they lived in it for so long. Or maybe Draculaura's dad can help me."
"Apologies, Frankie, but that doesn't sound like you," Ghoulia moaned.
Frankie let out a long sigh. "I know, I know. History is just easier, wouldn't you think? Plus, it's my favorite subject! It shouldn't be that hard to put enough facts together to impress college recruiters. It'd be faster than writing a report about... who knows at this point."
Ghoulia looked at the ground for a moment before replying, "Presentation. That's what will help you get their attention and stand out no matter what you do. You just need to do it well."
Frankie gasped. "You're right, Ghoulia!" She darted in for a hug. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
Jackson heard the hope in her voice, followed by the blessing of their footsteps walking out the door. The grip on his chest loosened the second it shut. He rushed to the center of the laboratory and inspected the plans left on the raised platform.
It was a daunting machine, but after scanning through the plans, Jackson knew he could do it.
It would only take a few tweaks and he could—
He froze. What was he thinking?
Sure, the time teleporter had split apart two people a few times before, but those people were literally fused together and not a couple of shape-shifting… What? Minds? Souls? Personalities, plain and simple? More like misfits.
Freaks.
Was it worth the risk? He remembered his mailbox; missing out on parties; music. He didn't witness the night sky for over a decade.
His grip was so tight on the papers that he threatened to leave creases. The arching time teleporter loomed over him.
It was worth the risk.
For the rest of the week, Jackson spent his time after school in Hexiciah's lab. He made adjustment after adjustment, hour after hour. Dodging Ghoulia was a hassle, as she was determined to complete her project in the lab instead of anywhere else. Lucky for Jackson, she was done with the time teleporter for now. He prayed she wouldn't turn on the machine one day and notice his tinkering.
It was a stormy Thursday morning when Jackson woke to a slew of texts from Holt.
dude what's your deal?
been late to class all week! Cut it real close last night
better not happen again
Jackson rolled his eyes and thumbed out a reply.
Sorry. Been working on a project. You'll understand soon.
He shoved his phone in his pocket, slung on his book bag, and trudged out the door for an unwelcome rainy drive to school.
Why monsters loved the nuisance that was storms, he would never understand.
By day's end, Jackson skipped across the front lawn, ignoring the mud his shoes gathered. Ghoulia was holed up in the library, so this afternoon he would have Hexiciah's lab all to himself. Mist clouded Monster High's graveyard, and Jackson's hair clung to his skin. He waited for the right time to open the door and hopped inside. His fingers twitched.
Today was the day he would find out if everything he'd been working on... worked.
So far, it had produced the expected effect, but he hadn't tested if it would follow through with his intended effect.
That's what this moment was for.
Jackson took a deep breath and gave out a long exhale. He shrugged off his book bag and grabbed the machine's cord and plugged it into the wall outlet.
The time teleporter whirred to life, its light casting about the dark room. It produced just the colors, patterns, and speed Jackson had expected. He ran to his book bag and pulled out a rope. If he was right, stepping into it wouldn't send him back in time as long as it tethered him to the outside. Now, he just needed to step into the machine. He wrapped the rope securely around his waist and knotted it around the staircase, which was remarkably sturdy for being over two hundred years old.
Jackson crept up the platform. He tried to steady his breathing. He clenched and unclenched his fists. He could do this.
He would do this.
Jackson took a step forward, then another, until it sucked him in. A swirling vortex of lights and colors flashed and surrounded him as he suspended amidst it. He raised his left arm and set a minute-long timer on his watch. According to his calculations, it would be enough to get the job done. His heart thumped the seconds away.
But at the thirty-second mark, muffled voices echoed through the light tunnel.
"I really appreciate you showing me your finished project, Ghoulia."
Frankie and Ghoulia.
With a determined tug and a grunt, Jackson forced himself outside the vortex. It would be risky to stay there any longer. Not only would he likely get caught tampering with a sensitive device, but also the ghouls could shut off the machine while he was in it.
He adjusted his vision to the dimness on the other side of the time teleporter. Frankie and Ghoulia stood by the opened door, their jaws practically on the floor.
"Um," Jackson stuttered. The machine rattled behind him, and sweat trickled down his back. "Hi."
"What do you think you're doing?" Ghoulia groaned. "Do you even understand the kind of technology you're dealing with?"
Jackson rubbed the back of his neck, now soaked with sweat. "Well, see, I've been working here for almost a week now..." He adjusted his collar. It surprised him how warm his back was getting, the sweat only building. He didn't feel that nervous. "I'm sorry for sneaking in, but I wanted to see if—"
"Jackson, step away!" Ghoulia shouted, her blue eyes wide in alarm. She held a hand out in his direction, and he stepped down the platform. The machine jostled and whirred behind him.
He turned around and it sputtered. This had never happened before.
Frankie shoved past him.
"Frankie, don't!" Ghoulia shuffled after her, but blinding light engulfed the other ghoul.
The time teleporter rocked the floor and Jackson closed his eyes. When he opened them, the machine was charred and the lab reeked of smoke. Frankie was nowhere in sight.
But amidst the chaos of the malfunction, Jackson glimpsed an unmistakable red jacket disappear along with her.
A pair of black skull headphones sat alone on the platform.
Jackson slowly glanced over at Ghoulia. "Was that..?"
"Holt."
