Team Human (10 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Caught in a Really Bad Romance

C
athy and I walked to school the next morning. Cathy couldn't stop smiling and exclaiming on the beauty of everything. You'd think she was on drugs. Maybe she was. Lots of people are convinced that love is a drug.

If so, Cathy was mainlining.

It turned out she knew all about Francis's book—oh, sorry, his magnum opus—and had known from almost the beginning. She was quite happy to tell me more than I ever wanted to know about it.

Which begged the question: What had Francis thought I meant when I'd told him I knew what he was up to?

What didn't he want Principal Saunders to know? And what was going on with Principal Saunders anyway?

As if thinking about Francis and Principal Saunders had conjured them up, I saw them.

Francis was waiting for Cathy on the school steps. As we approached, he stood up, bowed, and lifted Cathy's hand to his visor as if to kiss it. I can't speak for his expression, given that he was in his hazmat suit, but I imagine it was as beatific as Cathy's.

In the parking lot, Principal Saunders was locking her fancy new SUV. Her expression was the opposite of beatific. She went pale when she saw us. I thought she was going to pass out on the spot when the four of us walked into the hall together and Francis eased his helmet off and turned his cool blue gaze to her.

I swear Principal Saunders shuddered.

“Are you okay, ma'am?” I asked. She was looking thin, and the circles around her eyes were so deep and dark, I wouldn't have been surprised if bats had taken up residence.

“Fine, thank you,” she said crisply. “Have you recovered, Cathy? Your mother said you were ill.”

Cathy blushed. “Yes, Principal Saunders.”

“Good, good. We hate to see our valedictorian away for any length of time. Hurts morale.” Principal Saunders attempted a smile. It looked more like a death rictus. At the same time she looked lost.

It was the strangest thing, but something about her expression made me think of how Cathy had looked when she'd thought Francis was gone forever.

Francis's expression was unaltered. What was going on between those two? Why was the principal afraid of him? What was he up to that he didn't want her to know about?

Most important of all, how was I going to find out?

I didn't see much of Cathy or Francis for the rest of the day—they were too lost in their own glittery little world, as if they were trapped in a snow globe of vampire love—but they might as well have been sitting in my lap, given that they were the constant topic of conversation. Apparently Principal Saunders wasn't the only one who had noted Cathy's absence. Many had noted that both she and Francis had been away.

Though everyone seemed to have forgotten that Francis had been absent for a few days before Cathy. They also seemed incapable of asking Cathy or Francis how they were. No, they all asked me.

“Is Cathy all right?” Ty inquired while gobbling down meatballs and rigatoni. “Was she sick? Did she and Francis go somewhere together? Are they married now?”

“She's fine. They're fine. Everything is fine,” I said, even though it wasn't. “They're not married.”

“What happened, exactly? Are you sure she's okay?” Anna asked, joining us because Cathy and Francis were elsewhere. Under a tree reciting poetry at each other, I imagined. Or maybe he was reading to her from the magnum opus?

I recited the touching story in a monotone. “She thought she'd lost Francis forever. Now she has him back. She is, and I quote, ‘in a blissful delirium.' So yes. I think that means she is okay.”

“Oh,” Anna said. She seemed taken aback, possibly because of the “blissful delirium” part.

“Well, that's good,” Ty said.

“No, Ty, it's not. In case you haven't noticed, he's a vampire!”

Ty looked distressed. Francis's beauty and airplane expertise had obviously dazzled all the brains right out of his head.

“Francis is a really nice vampire,” he protested. “And, you know, some human-vampire relationships work out great.”

“Oh, really?” I asked. “How many people do you know involved in happy relationships with the undead?”

Ty and Anna both took this opportunity to be significantly silent.

“Aside from Francis and Cathy, I mean!”

“Well, none,” Ty said. “But we know it happens. There are books about it. There are stories in the paper all the time. Did you see that one about the vampire guy who kept dating all the girl descendants in this one family? Can you imagine being like ‘Granny's ex sure is hot'?”

“How is that an argument in favor of dating vampires?” I asked, wondering if Ty had lost his mind.

He ignored me. “And then there's Gina Lyons and Zac Rider.”

“Their relationship is a stunt for the movie,” Anna put in. “Almost all celebrity hookups are.”

“Well, I think their love is real,” said Ty, who seemed determined in Cathy's absence to be the romantic of the group. He hesitated, then added: “And how about Rob Lin and Aaron Zuckermann? They've been together ten years!”

“In which time Aaron Zuckermann has had like fifteen plastic surgeries,” said Anna. “That we know of.”

“That's because looking good is important to him. He feels he owes it to the fans and that it expresses his dedication to the job,” Ty said. “It's not because he's insecure about their love.”

“Uh-huh,” said Anna. “Plastic surgery does not make you look good. He's freakish.”

I took a deep breath. “Stop talking about celebrities! So they date vampires, so what? I assume we all agree Cathy shouldn't get extensive cosmetic surgery! And please, Ty, don't bring up any of your romance novels. They're fictional.”

“Some of them are based on true stories.”

“This isn't a story!” I said. “Cathy's not a celebrity! She's got herself all tangled up with this stupid vampire and her own dreams, and I'm worried sick about her!” My voice might have risen a tiny bit. Ty and Anna were staring at me.

“Oh, is that the time?” Ty exclaimed unconvincingly. “I have an appointment with, um, the counselor. I've been feeling very troubled lately!”

“Uh-huh,” I said as he scampered away from the lunch table as fast as he could, abandoning meatballs, pasta, and his soda. “That or he has to go rearrange his sock drawer.”

“You were a bit fierce,” Anna said. She looked almost as tired as her mother. What had I been thinking, going on about love affairs with the undead, letting Ty talk about vampires and celebrities dating? This whole Francis and Cathy thing must be unbearable for Anna, considering her dad had gone off with some undead home wrecker.

“I feel fierce,” I said, lowering my voice and moving closer to Anna. “I had to go rescue Cathy from Francis's house last night.”

I was still talking about vampires, but at least Anna looked more awake. “You didn't! You went into the Shade? By yourself?”

“I did. It was terrifying. He lives with a vampire cop who almost killed us both!”

Anna shuddered, and I thought of her mother's shudder this morning.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't be telling you about this when …” The words
your dad
hung between us, all the louder for not being spoken.

Anna bowed her head. “No, that's okay. I want to hear about it. Was the house dark and cold?”

She spoke as if she'd spent some time imagining a vampire's house, imagining it being dank and dark and refrigerator cold where her father had chosen to go.

“It was cold, but not dark.” I cast about for a way to distract Anna. “You're not going to believe this, but there's a human who lives in Francis's shade.”

“Actually, it's quite common,” Anna said in a brittle voice. “Vampire-human cohabitation. For a brief time, at least. I imagine my dad is living in a vampire shade right now.”

“Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't mean … I just … Argh. Sorry.” Apparently it was foot-in-mouth day. “There's this boy who lives there called Kit. Well, not a little kid, he's our age. But he calls the vampire cop his mom and Francis his uncle. He grew up with vampires.”

Anna's mouth dropped open. “Okay, you were right, I don't believe it. How on earth did that happen?”

I told her.

“He's really strange, Anna,” I said, thinking of Kit cheerfully telling me his name was actually Kitten because he was a vampire pet.

“He thinks vampires are …” I paused, not entirely sure what he thought they were. “Grown-ups? How people are? He seems to think he doesn't quite measure up. It's awful. I got the impression he doesn't know any humans. Poor Kit. He doesn't even know that vampires and humans don't mix.”

“They shouldn't,” Anna said bleakly. “I'm with you. Ty's wrong about that.” She twisted her hands together for a moment, then burst out: “Sometimes I think this city shouldn't exist. I mean, yes, we can mostly stay out of one another's way. But not always. Then there's people like my dad, who work with them every day, who bring them into your life even if you don't want them. It's wrong. It leads to … bad things.”

She closed her eyes for a second. I hoped she wouldn't cry.

“One time Dad's vampire came to our house. I never told you, did I?”

“No,” I said.

Anna had told me almost nothing about what had happened. Unusually for me, I hadn't really asked. I hadn't known where to start.

“Well, she did. She was pounding on our front door for hours. At least it felt like hours. Mom called the cops immediately. The vampire vanished when they showed up, which I'm sure didn't take that long, but for those moments or minutes or hours when we were waiting? It was hell. Dad was away at a conference, so it was Mom and me, holding each other in the closet, knowing that if she broke down the door, or threw herself in through one of our windows, there was nothing we could do.

“I have never been so scared in my life. She didn't just bang on the door. She howled. That noise was the worst I've ever heard. It took us a while to recognize what she was saying. But once I did?”

Anna was shaking.

“She was saying Dad's name. Over and over.”

I shook my head. Anna's eyes were wet, but she kept talking, as if all these words had been building up in my quiet friend for too long and now they simply had to come out.

“The next morning there were all these gouges on our door. I think she used her nails. We had to get it replaced.

“I never saw her. But I imagined what she looked like: more zombie than vampire, huge empty eyes, hair everywhere, covered in blood. A monster. Why would my dad run away with someone, some
thing
, like that? But he did. He loved a screaming monster more than he loved us.”

The tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered.

“Mom's a wreck. How could he do that to her? How could he do that to me?”

I put my arms around her. “I don't know.”

“I don't even see how he could love her,” Anna said. “He talked to me about her afterward. He couldn't say much, because she was his patient, but he did say that you could only be sorry for her. That's not love. I keep thinking about that night, Mel. My dad felt sorry for her, but I don't think he could have loved someone like that. And if he didn't love her, why would he go with her?”

I swallowed. My mouth felt dry. “Do you think he didn't want to go with her? Do—do you think she made him?”

“I don't know,” said Anna. “My mom told me he loved that monster. She told me he looked her in the eye and said he was leaving, because he wanted to be with her and not us. My mom has no reason to lie. I can't believe she would. But I can't believe Dad could love something like that vampire, so I don't know what to believe. I don't know anything except how much I hate her!”

Anna leaned her face against my shoulder and sobbed. I patted her on the back and hated the vampire woman as well: I couldn't help but hate her, even if she was crazy. Anna was in so much pain.

This was what vampires did. They ruined lives.

I would not allow any vampire to ruin Cathy's.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A Modest Proposal from Francis

W
hat with one of my best friends breaking down in the cafeteria and all, it was a pretty crappy day. I was not exactly in the mood to see Cathy float down the school steps at the end of it, looking as if her day had been nothing but rose petals, soft music, and light gleaming debonairly off Francis's fangs.

“Hi, Mel,” she said, beaming as if I was the best-friend cherry on her sundae of love. She about swooped me off my feet in a hug. “How was your day?”

“Not so good,” I replied in a voice muffled against Cathy's sweater. “Anna's pretty down.”

“Oh no!” said Cathy. “What's wrong?”

“She was talking about her dad at lunch today,” I told her. I didn't know how much of what Anna had told me was in confidence, so I left it at that. “I was thinking that after fencing practice I could drag her to Kafeen Krank tonight. Dose her with hot chocolate. Wanna come?”

Cathy bit her lip. “Oh, Mel, I wish I could, but I have plans with Francis.”

She'd stepped back from me by then, so she saw the look on my face.

“I swear I'm not going to be one of those awful people who get into a couple and start ignoring their friends! Things aren't going to be about Francis, Francis, Francis”—her voice lingered over his name—“all the time. Tomorrow I'll go over to Anna's with you. I'll make cupcakes. We can plan a whole girls' day on the weekend.”

Normally I'm easily bribed by cupcakes. But not this time. I kept my arms folded and my lips pressed together.

“Francis asked me to meet him in a fancy restaurant tonight,” Cathy said. She could barely contain her excitement.

I frowned. “Francis doesn't eat. Won't it be awkward?”

“No,” said Cathy.

“I'd worry he'd judge the way I chewed or my table manners.”

“Mel, it's going to be romantic! It's a big deal. Our first official date. And he said he had something important to ask me.”

I immediately stopped thinking about how awkward romantic dinners with vampires must be. In fact, I stopped thinking at all. My brain was paralyzed with horror.

“What?” I managed at last.

Cathy wrung her hands, apparently out of joy since she was smiling. “I don't know. He hasn't asked me yet!”

What if he was going to ask if he could move to England with her, so he could stalk her vampirically around Oxford, casting a big undead shadow over her whole college life? She would be all alone. Except for him. She'd become totally dependent on him. It would be a nightmare!

“You should cancel,” I squeaked, panic turning the air into helium. “You should come with me and Anna!”

“Mel,” Cathy said, in a voice I could tell she was only keeping level with an effort. “I've already made plans. You would understand that if it was any other guy. I know you don't like Francis, even if I don't understand why.”

I opened my mouth to tell her. In some detail.

“I didn't like Ryan, either,” she said, silencing me. “But it was your decision to go out with him, and I respected that.”

You may recall that I mentioned having another boyfriend, after Ty and I had our deeply amicable breakup? One who put me off dating for a while?

The thing was, Ty decided we didn't have much chemistry, which was true, but he was the one to say it, which hurt, and then I met Ryan at a fencing tournament and we had so much chemistry, I was blinded to certain things.

Such as the fact he was a jerk.

He hit on Cathy at a party. It was a mess.

“Ryan was a big mistake.”

“He was your mistake to make.”

“And Francis is a bigger one!”

Cathy drew close to me, so close I had to tip my head back to meet her eyes. Stupid tall people.

“Mel,” she said, “you know I love you. I know you love me. I know that you only want the best for me. But Francis is wonderful to me. Francis is wonderful
for
me. Be happy for me.”

“But, Cathy, he—”

“I am happy. Maybe it won't work out,” she said, as if that was the world's most ridiculous idea. “You can say whatever it is then. Right now I need you to drop this.”

“Cathy,” I began.

She looked into my eyes. Her voice was cold, as cold as Francis's or Camille's.

“Mel,” she said. “Drop it. Now.”

It was already dark when Ty met us after fencing, bouncing up and down on his toes. He hovered around Anna, aware she was upset, trying to make her feel better in his clumsy boy way, which involved almost tripping her up and repeatedly proffering gum. It was kind of sweet.

“Sorry about losing my license,” he said. “Not that Mom would necessarily have lent me her car.”

“After you crashed it?” I inquired.

“I didn't crash it,” Ty protested. “It was just that if you wanted to read the license plate, you had to climb under the car. It was more of a crumpling than a crashing.”

Anna gave him a half smile, which was kind, because we'd heard the story before. Ty had managed to crash the car and lose his license in the first week of summer. It had been a major drag. It was still a drag. Cathy's mom didn't own a car, so despite Cathy passing driver's ed with flying colors, she hadn't been able to get a license yet because she hadn't been able to get enough driving hours. Ditto for me: My parents shared the one car, in which I'd had precisely two lessons with Dad. Besides which, as I may have already mentioned, it would take me years to save up for a car.

Ty continued the puppy-dog-like goofiness during the entire walk to our regular coffee place, Kafeen Krank. There were many things to love about the place. They put giant marshmallows in the hot chocolate; the staff are either amusingly cranky (sorry, Kranky) or full of amazing gossip they'll share with anyone. The chairs are comfy, though dilapidated, and unlike the ones in stupid Francis's café of choice, they don't match. There's graffiti in lurid colors on every flat surface: walls, tables, floor. They even leave markers around so you can add more of your own. Much more my style. Not just the comfortable grunginess but almost everyone there was young and broke like us, including the staff.

Ty and I were talking a lot, in a manic attempt to take the wretched look off Anna's face. Ty recounted his soccer team's latest adventures. (They'd won four games in the last two seasons.) I talked about a fencing competition we had coming up. (I don't like to boast, but our team is approaching top ten in the state. Don't ask how many girls' saber teams there are in our state.) I also shared a few saber-related mishaps that may or may not have been true. (I was trying to make Anna laugh. Is that so wrong?)

That led to discussions about the haplessness of New Whitby's hockey team—the Penguins—of whom Anna used to be a big fan. Despite my and Ty's most valiant efforts, Anna did not smile.

In desperation, we talked about homework. Unsurprisingly, given all her time in the library, Anna tersely indicated she was up-to-date on everything. Had written her New Whitby sewage system essay. I too admitted that I was on top of everything, including aforementioned sewer essay. (What can I say? In everything other than love, Cathy's a great example. One I've been following since kindergarten. I shudder to think what I would have achieved left to my own devices.) Ty was doing as well as Ty ever does. He had at least found sewer maps online, though he hadn't figured out what to say about them.

In even more desperation, I talked about Cathy.

“I suck, don't I? If even Cathy's lost patience with me, I suck. I should butt out. Just briefly, until the bloom's off the rose or whatever. Then when Cathy's less starry-eyed about her walking corpse, I pounce!”

Ty looked alarmed. “You pounce?”

“With cunning arguments,” I said.

“I think you're doing the right thing,” Anna said quietly.

We looked at her. It was the most she'd said in an hour. She offered us both a wry smile.

“I'm just saying,” she said. “Nobody knows this better than me, right? Vampires have a lot of glamour—because they're older and more experienced and strong and pretty—oh, just because they're vampires. I don't think it's a bad idea to keep reminding Cathy to be sensible. I think you're being a good friend.”

Anna reached out and squeezed my hand, which was lying beside my giant brownie.

“Aw,” I said. “Anna. Thank you for that touching tribute. You still can't have any of my brownie, though.”

Anna shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

I broke a bit of it off and handed it to her because it was nice to see her smile. Ty made a low moaning sound that was meant to indicate his imminent death by starvation.

“Forget it, get your own.”

“I left all my money in—” Ty thought this over. “Well, in the vending machines at school.”

I took a big bite of the brownie, making exaggerated
mmmm
sounds for Ty's benefit.

“Cathy,” Ty said.

“We can stop talking about her if you—”

“Hi, Cathy,” Ty said a little louder.

I looked up. Cathy was standing in front of us. She was crying.

I shot to my feet and grabbed her hands. “I'll kill him.”

Cathy's shoulders shook. “I—I—”

“I'm taking the un out of undead. I swear,” I said, pulling up a chair for her. “Cathy, what did he do? What's the matter?”

“N-n-nothing!” Cathy said sinking into the chair. Despite the gush of tears down her face, Cathy's eyes were shining.

“I'm so happy,” Cathy wept. “I had to come tell you guys right away!”

“Tell us what happened?”

Cathy glowed through her tears. It was like seeing the sun rise behind a waterfall.

“Francis asked me to be with him forever,” she said. “He asked if I would—if I would consider becoming a vampire.”

My hands went numb. Cathy's hands would have slipped out of them, except she gripped mine tight, as if she could pass her sheer delight to me through her finger-tips.

This was it, then. This was the real reason I'd hated the thought of Cathy with Francis so much. I'd been afraid, without ever being able to even think that it might come to this.

Cathy smiled. “I said yes.”