“I’M NOT COMING TO PRACTICEtoday. I’m sick. I’m sorry.” Sophie hung up the phone. She emailed her other professors, but she left Grigoryan a message on his office voicemail. It was true. She was sick.
Sick of thinking she was going to get to stay happy. Sick of thinking she could change her life, make a friend, that people wouldn’t shit on you.
The phone rang.
It wasn’t Jesse.
That was good. She didn’t need a liar.
It rang again.
Izzy. Aunt Izzy.
Aunt Izzy wouldn’t stop calling until she got an answer. She had mentioned to her “aunt” that she didn’t have early morning classes on Monday, so there was no use pretending that she was in one.
The phone rang a third time. Sophie listlessly answered, dimly aware that if she didn’t, her aunt would notify her cophusband and her overprotective parents. It was a choice between a thirty-second phone call or a visit from campus police.
“Hi,” Sophie murmured, throat raw. “I’m sick, I’m not going to class.”
“Oh! Oh, sweetie! Are you okay? Are you really ‘sick’?”
“I don’t lie,” Sophie answered harshly. Heartsick was a very valid kind of sick.
There was a surprised pause before Aunt Izzy collected herself. “I’m sorry, hon. How bad is it? Do you want me to get in touch with your parents? Do you have a good health center on campus?”
Jesse had lost it when she mentioned getting tested at the health center. Obviously, the idea of sex with her was so repulsive that he made up that truly ludicrous lie. It was easy to check, too.
Vampires had fangs. They couldn’t be out during the day. They drank blood. They were pale and cold and afraid of garlic, crosses, and onions.Hah. Tell me that again if you haven’t been eating Chinese and tacos with me every single day.
“Sophie? Answer me, honey.”
“I’m sorry. I’m here. I’m just sleepy.”
Her auntie’s super senses went on high alert. “You’re drowsy and sick? Did you go see that boy last night? Did he give you a drink? Sophie, are you feeling any pain or tenderness anywhere?”
“He didn’t give me a drink and he didn’t try anything.” That much was true. Saying he hadn’t hurt her or that she wasn’t experiencing pain and tenderness was a lie. Her eyes felt like they’d been rubbed with sandpaper and her heart was a bruised mass that was severely pissed off at the whole world.
“Sorry, overprotective cop-wife. Look, I know it’s early, but I have good news.”
Selfishly, Sophie was unable to be happy about that just now. She settled for repeating the words. “Good news?”
“I got the job!”
Sophie hadn’t slept. It took her a minute to remember her Friday evening conversation with her aunt. “Oh! Good!”
“I was afraid that after being home with the kids for so long they wouldn’t consider me, but they said they loved my experience with people in mental health crises. All those years volunteering on the hotline have paid off.”
Hotline. Mental health crisis.“Why would someone say they were... a zombie?” Sophie asked.
“What, sweetie?”
“You have your master’s degree, right, Aunt Izzy?”
“In Addiction Counseling.”
“I met someone on campus. This guy insists he’s a member of the undead community. He doesn’t realize how obviously fake it is.”
“He’s joking?”
