Monster High: A New Start (Male Reader)

Phantom Phone Syndrome

The forty-five-minute drive to Bridgeport Village had been worth it. Buying a new phone online couldn’t possibly have compared to the experience of walking into an Apple Store for the first time. Sleek technology eager to be touched. Built by geniuses. Charged by electricity. Brought to life with the swipe of a fingertip. Frankie considered changing her name to iStein and moving in.

To avoid being recognized, Frankie had to wear prosthetics to hide her skin and scars, but she didn't seem to care. She was much too fascinated by the array of phones and laptops and watches and brooches and whatever else this place had.

Viveka feigned interest in the laptops with a tight-lipped smile and semi-curious nod.

Viveka: It’s nice to leave Salem every now and then.

Frankie: I agree.

Frankie was just indulging her mother, even though she knew Viveka’s comment was about more than spending Sunday afternoon phone shopping in Portland. It meant not having to wonder if a shop owner would check their IDs before allowing them into the store. Not mistaking the wind for the sound of someone coming to take them away. Not checking the Internet for slanderous posts. Not dodging suspicious glances from the driver of a passing car. Not questioning their decision to stay and fight what seemed like a losing battle.

Viveka: Do you have the gift card?

Frankie snapped open her quilted black handbag-slash-portable-amp-machine, feeling a sudden sense of superiority over the displayed electronics. Unlike them, she could go for days without a power cord, something they, in their fancy minimalist world, could only dream of.

Frankie: Can I browse?

Viveka scanned the perimeter with the side-eyed subtlety of a Secret Service agent. Kids played interactive games at a low circular table, an older couple held a salesman hostage with questions about Macs versus PCs, hipsters grazed, and three bleached blonds in futuristic outfits hovered over the latest iPad.

Viveka: Fine. But don’t wander off. I won’t be long.

Normally Frankie would have mocked her mother for being overprotective, but considering the circumstances, she promised to stay close, and then hurried away before she changed her mind.

Intrigued by the blonds’ fascination with whatever they were watching, Frankie inched toward them.

The sound was unmistakable. Fearless. Empowered. Revolutionary. The world premiere of Lady Gaga’s new video!

You liked some of Gaga's songs, but what the heck did she know about IPhones?

To avoid sparking, Frankie stuffed her hands into the pockets of her skinny military cargoes and asked if she could watch it with them. They didn’t dare turn away from Gaga to respond, but a girl wearing a Bubble Wrap scarf made room. Just as Frankie snagged a decent view, the video ended.

Girl: Best one ever!

The blond was wearing ice-cream-sprinkle-covered sunglasses on top of her head.

Girl: You say that after every one.

This girl had crime-scene tape tied around her leggings. Where did she even get that?

Bubble Wrap: Wait until the concert.

Frankie gasped.

Frankie: You’re going to her concert?

Sprinkle Glasses: Thirteen more days!

Crime Scene: You?

Was she unaware of the red lipstick smudge on her front tooth?

Frankie: I wish.