Through the Zombie Glass. Gena Showalter
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Me: On my way.
Mad Dog: Walk faster. Reeve’s annoying me.
Reeve: SHE LIES! I annoy no 1.
I stalked down the hall and up the stairs. Reeve occupied the entire top floor. I cleared the landing and sailed inside the first sitting room, an area decorated with pink, pink and more pink, coupled with mounds of lace and rows of ruffles. Every time I came up here, I thought that maybe Valentine’s Day had thrown up and this had been the result.
The bedroom door was open. The girls sat at the edge of the four-poster king (draped in pink satin). Reeve had her hand on Kat’s forehead. Kat was shaking her head in denial of something, her cheeks pale, dark circles under her eyes.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
Hazel eyes found me, only to skitter away. “Not you, too. I missed out on my beauty z’s, that’s all.”
No. It was more than that. Lately, she’d had more bad days than good.
She returned her attention to me, looked me over and frowned. “But, uh, what’s wrong with you? I mean, I know you’ve been going through something you haven’t had the decency to share with us, but wow. You’re like death walking.”
“Kat!” Reeve said.
“What? It’s true.”
I attempted to scrub the discolorations from my skin. “I don’t know what happened, but I can’t get the smudges off.”
“Smudges? What smudges? You’re the same shade of snow-white as always—and that’s a compliment, by the way. You’re like a winter wonderland fairy, and I’d be eaten up with jealousy if—”
“You weren’t so in love with yourself,” Reeve interjected with a laugh.
“Exactly! You’ve seen me, right? God was on His A game when He made me, all, like, a dash of sexy here, a sprinkle of awesome there. It’s just...your eyes,” Kat said to me. “They’re more haunted than usual.”
The smudges had faded? That quickly? I stalked to the vanity mirror and leaned over, planting my palms on the surface scattered with makeup. My reflection stared back at me, the smudges just as dark as before. Disappointment hit me a split second before I realized something else was wrong. Something far worse.
I wasn’t smiling—but my reflection was.
Tick, tock.
I shook my head, blinked, but the image remained the same. Tick. Reeling, I reached up and patted my lips. Tock. The corners hadn’t somehow lifted without my knowledge. Tick.
No longer able to catch my breath, I straightened and turned away. What I’d just seen... The fault of my imagination, surely.
“I look normal to you?” I demanded.
“Sure. But you’ve lost a little weight your Nana’s chocolate chip cupcakes would fix—hint, hint, I want chocolate chip cupcakes,” Kat said at the same time Reeve said, “Totally.”
Confirmation. My imagination was at fault.
No big deal, I decided. Everything would calm down once I’d dealt with my stress load.
I licked my lips. First step: I had to stop pretending. “So...Cole and I broke up. We’re one hundred percent over. There’s no hope of us ever getting back together.”
“What?” Kat gasped, jolting to her feet. “What’d he do? And I know it’s all his fault, the jerk! I’ll kill him. I swear I will! Reeve, where are your Skittles?”
Reeve ignored her, her hand fluttering over her heart. “Oh, Ali. I’m so sorry.”
I jutted my chin, somehow able to maintain my calm. “Don’t be. That’s life.”
“But you guys were so happy. And he was spending the night with you,” Kat said, clearly reeling. “Bronx told Frosty he caught Cole sneaking out to come see you multiple times.”
I shook my head. “He might have snuck out and spent the night, but we never actually had sex.” Not even before my injury.
Mom had told me to wait for someone special. Someone who loved and appreciated me for more than my body, and wouldn’t run tattling to all his friends. Or hurt me. Or push for more than I was ready to give. Or abandon me if things got rough afterward. I’d thought Cole was that boy, but I must have sensed, deep down, he’d been holding a part of himself back.
Go me.
“He didn’t think we’d last,” I said, “and he didn’t like me enough to fight for me. It hurts, I’m so mad I could do serious damage to him, but I’m not going to break down.” Not again.
“Well, boys suck!” Kat flicked the length of her dark hair over one shoulder, truly angry on my behalf. “Ali, forget working out. Reeve, grab your keys and your dad’s credit card. We’re taking a girls’ day, and since he’s one of the enemy, he’s paying.”
“That seems fair. We just have to be back by six,” Reeve replied, standing. “I have a date—I mean, uh, I’m sorry, Ali.” Her dusky skin flushed, and her shoulders drooped with shame. “I shouldn’t have mentioned my date while you’re suffering and...I’m just so sorry.”
Oh, no, no, no. We weren’t going down the pity road. “Don’t you dare stop talking about your love life just because mine went up in flames.”
“Yeah. What she said. Even though I have a feeling mine will be going up in flames, too.” Kat toyed with the ends of her hair. “I don’t think Frosty will be willing to become a girl for me, and right now I’m totally giving up on dudes.”
Reeve shook her head in exasperation.
Me? I suddenly saw Kat through new eyes. She only ever talked about axing Frosty when she looked pale and withdrawn. In other words, when her kidneys were acting up. Fear was driving her, I realized, just like it had driven Cole. She probably felt vulnerable, desperate to protect herself.
Poor Kat. One day, Frosty might get tired of the hot-and-cold treatment and leave her.
Kat pointed a finger at Reeve. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten you’ve been sidestepping my questions about your mystery guy.”
“Maybe I’ll tell you about him. Maybe I won’t.” Dark amber eyes gleamed with challenge. “You guys aren’t the only ones who can keep secrets.”
Kat backed down; what else could she do? “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m probably the most open and honest girl in the world,” she muttered. “Just ask Ali.”
Both girls peered over at me, expectant.
Kat wanted confirmation. Reeve wanted me to spill our secrets.
“Didn’t someone mention a girls’ day?” I asked.
* * *