“Again? That’s the third one you’ve broken this week!” I yelled to Meredith. Both doors to our connecting bathroom were open, so I could see straight through from my room to hers. “Tell that alarm clock how you really feel.”
“It needed to go to hell. So I sent it there.” Meredith’s voice was muffled, still mostly asleep. “I’m freaking tired. Need more sleep.”
For a girl who was positively perky all the time, Meredith moved slower than molasses when she first woke up. Everyday it was the same. She’d hit her snooze at least five times. Every once in a while, she’d chuck the alarm clock against the wall in frustration. But three days in a row was a streak, even for a girl who stashed boxes of them in her closet.
Rolling out of bed, I grabbed a fresh towel, and went to shower. Once I was up and dressed, Meredith usually got going.
The bathroom’s tiny black and white hexagonal tiles were cold beneath my feet. I pushed the shower curtain aside, and turned the water on, and then closed the door to Meredith’s room.
Bathrooms used to be a nightmare for me. Before, wearing gloves was the only way to stop from getting visions. Unfortunately, gloves had never panned out in the shower. Total nightmare. But now I didn’t need the gloves. Without visions hitting me all the time, I got ready so much faster.
I opened Meredith’s door when I was done. Her room was a riot of color. She had endless make-up and beauty supplies in the bookcase next to her bed, and a desk piled with magazines. She was still completely covered by her comforter. I poked where I thought her back might be. “Your turn.” She grunted, and I went back through the bathroom to my room.
The layout was a mirror image of Meredith’s, but where Meredith had color, I had white. Mostly because I had to make sure that everything I touched was brand new and extra clean. Bleach helped burn the visions out of anything. It wasn’t necessary anymore, but it’d become a habit.
Three long metal shelves were drilled into the wall beside my bed. They held actual books, in alphabetical order by author and sorted by genre. The framed print hanging above my bed was knocked askew. Underneath a big grinning Cheshire Cat, in big purple and pink block letters, it read, “Keep calm. We’re all mad here.” It’d been a gift from my brother. He was enjoying college life, but I missed the dork.
I quickly dressed in skinny jeans and a T-shirt, and checked my watch. I was actually making good time this morning. I might even have time to review my notes on Dr. Mozan’s chemistry class before breakfast.
I paused as I brushed my hair. Why wasn’t Meredith in the shower yet? She was always up by now. “Hey? Are you getting up?”
She didn’t answer.
I went through the bathroom and into her room. She was still huddled under her covers. “Come on, chica. It’s time to get up. You’re gonna miss breakfast.” She didn’t respond at all. “Hey, you okay?” I pulled the blankets away from her face.
Meredith blinked her bloodshot eyes at me. A piece of her hot pink hair was stuck to her forehead. “I don’t know. My limbs ache.”
Aching limbs sounded like the flu. “You seem sick, but that’s—”
“Impossible,” Meredith said. “Werewolves can’t get sick.”
That might be true, but she looked pretty pale to me. I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead. “You’re ice cold.” Which was odd. All over Texas it was hitting over ninety degrees, and werewolves ran hotter than humans.
“I’m not sick.” She sat up. “I’m just feeling extra slow today. It’s a side effect of the curse. I’ll be fine once I’m up and about.”
I raised my eyebrows, but said nothing. She’d know better than me what was wrong with her. “Well, I’m going to finish getting ready. You gonna get up?”
“Yeah. Today’s French toast day. I’m not missing that for anything. Just give me ten, I’ll be ready.”
“Cool.” I went back to my room and shoved my homework in my Tokidoki messenger bag. Meredith closed my door to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I opened my laptop to go over my notes, but a message from my brother, Axel, was in my inbox. The subject line read, “Whasrt’ds uopl?”
Was that English?
I snorted as I opened it. It took a bit of deciphering, but I got the gist—he went to a party last night. The send time said three AM. Poor guy would be hurting when he woke up. I turned on the latest from BBC Radio One’s Essential Mix—a totally sweet set from Sasha and Pete Tong at a club in Manchester—and started replying to Axel’s email.
I was about to hit send when the smell hit me. I paused the music.
“Meredith?” I asked through the door.
She gagged, and my blood went cold. Meredith hadn’t been lying when she said that werewolves didn’t get sick. They could heal broken bones in a few hours.
So, why was Meredith puking in our bathroom?
My chest tightened. Something was seriously wrong with my best friend.
I knocked on the bathroom door. “You okay in there?”
More noises followed that I wished I hadn’t heard. Especially not with my new super sensitive hearing. Yuck.