Hex Hall, by Rachel Hawkins. The summary (from GoodReads):
Three years ago, Sophie Mercer discovered that she was a witch. It's gotten her into a few scrapes. Her non-gifted mother has been as supportive as possible, consulting Sophie's estranged father--an elusive European warlock--only when necessary. But when Sophie attracts too much human attention for a prom-night spell gone horribly wrong, it's her dad who decides her punishment: exile to Hex Hall, an isolated reform school for wayward Prodigium, a.k.a. witches, faeries, and shapeshifters.Mini-Review
By the end of her first day among fellow freak-teens, Sophie has quite a scorecard: three powerful enemies who look like supermodels, a futile crush on a gorgeous warlock, a creepy tagalong ghost, and a new roommate who happens to be the most hated person and only vampire student on campus. Worse, Sophie soon learns that a mysterious predator has been attacking students, and her only friend is the number-one suspect.
As a series of blood-curdling mysteries starts to converge, Sophie prepares for the biggest threat of all: an ancient secret society determined to destroy all Prodigium, especially her.
To be honest, I don’t have that much to say about this one: I didn’t love it as much as I hoped, but I didn’t dislike it as much as I feared; it was just kinda middle of the road, neither good enough nor bad enough to make a lasting impression. I did like Sophie, though; I thought she was entirely likeable, and I loved her sarcasm. But overall, the book felt, I don’t know, short?--like there wasn’t enough time to really develop the characters and storyline. And honestly, her relationship with Archer bugged me--not from her side (because who hasn’t had a crush on an unavailable guy?), but what the heck was he doing flirting with her when he had a girlfriend? But anyway, the book was fine, but I don’t think I’ll be reading the sequel.
She unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Welcome to The Twilight Zone!”
The “Holy-crap-that’s-a-lot-of-pink” Zone would have been a more accurate description.
I don’t know what I was expecting a vampire’s room to look like. Maybe lots of black, a bunch of books by Camus . . . oh, and a sensitive portrait of the only human the vamp had ever loved, who had no doubt died of something beautiful and tragic, thus dooming the vamp to and eternity of moping and sighing romantically.
What can I say? I read a lot of books.
But this room looked like it had been decorated by the unholy lovechild of Barbie and Strawberry Shortcake.