Free Team Human by Justine Larbalestier Page B

I’d bought at a fencing tournament a couple years back. I didn’t feel like sleeping any more than Cathy did.
    I hadn’t realized that guilt caused insomnia. Mind you, I hadn’t realized that pining for vampires did either.
    I’d thought that I was sparing Cathy heartbreak: that sending Francis away before she could get really attached was the best thing for her. But apparently when it was fated eternal love, you only needed two weeks to get attached.
    I thumped my head back against the pillow and considered getting NyQuil for both of us. Except, knowing my luck, Cathy would refuse to take it because Francis thought NyQuil was dangerously modern, like texting, television, and jokes that were actually funny.
    â€œI can’t believe that even when he’s gone, Francis is tormenting us,” I said. “In very, very different ways. Cathy dreams longingly of being locked in his ardent below–room temperature embrace; I dream longingly of beating his head in with a deck chair.”
    â€œ Ardent ’s a good word,” Kristin observed. “Was it on your SATs?”
    â€œI wish it had been,” I growled.
    Damn you, Francis, get out of my head!
    â€œYou okay, Mel?” Kristin asked.
    â€œI’m frustrated about Cathy. She’s torturing herself over this guy, and he’s not worth it. I should tell her the truth. I really should.”
    â€œDoesn’t sound like she’d listen,” Kristin said. “There are none so deaf as those listening to ‘All by Myself’ over and over and over again.”
    I thumped my head back against the pillows over and over and over again.
    Kristin may have sensed she was being less than helpful. “You knew she was going to be upset, right?”
    â€œI guess,” I said.
    But I’d thought she would be upset in the same way I’d been upset when I’d broken up with Ryan. I’d been expecting Cathy to get angry, eat ice cream with me, and call him names. I’d expected to be able to comfort her.
    I had not expected her to stop sleeping or eating. I hadn’t expected that because it was crazy.
    â€œIt’s only been a few days. Give it a few weeks before you start panicking. All Cathy needs is time.”
    â€œYeah.” I sighed. “You’re right. Thanks, Kris.”
    I know that “all she needs is time” is a total cliché, but I hung up on Kris feeling slightly better. It was true—it hadn’t been that long. Cathy hadn’t even known Francis that long. She could sit in her chair and mope for a while, and then she’d be over it.
    My phone rang. It was Cathy. An excellent sign!
    â€œHi,” I began, not knowing what to say. I didn’t want to sound too happy. Should I ask if she was feeling better? Or if she’d changed her mind about milkshakes?
    â€œHi, Mel,” said the gentle, lilting voice of Cathy’s mom.
    Cathy’s mom was calling me. She had never called me before. Not even once.
    I sat bolt upright.
    â€œMay I talk to Cathy, please? She’s not answering her cell phone.”
    â€œWh—” I began, and then cut off the “What are you talking about, Cathy’s not here” before it was born.
    Think, Mel, think.
    Fact: If Cathy’s mother thought Cathy was here, then Cathy must have told her she was here. Fact: Cathy hated lying, so Cathy must think she was doing something really important.
    Fact: All Cathy thought was really important right now was an undead love weasel.
    â€œWh-wh-whhhy no,” I said. “Cathy can’t come to the phone right now. Because! Because she’s in the bathroom. That’s where she is. And I can’t go in there and give her the phone. Cathy and I are close, but we’re not that close. Besides, you know Cathy! She’s so shy. About peeing. And just generally.”
    There was a long pause.
    â€œI wondered if she was feeling better,” Ms. Beauvier