Panic attack? No. “That’s not what just happened.” I’d weathered the death of my family. A breakup wouldn’t ruin my mental stability. I wouldn’t let it.
“Ali, sweetheart, I’m a doctor. More than that, for several years I was married to a woman with an anxiety disorder. I know a panic attack when I see one.”
Anxiety disorder. No. Not that, either. “I’m fine,” I said, my voice ragged. “Just tired.”
His smile was sad. “Did something happen to trigger it?”
Something like losing the other part of me? “I told you I’m fine,” I replied stiffly, then regretted my tone. He was being nice, trying to help me. He didn’t deserve my rancor.
He sighed, pushed to his feet. “The more you know about the triggers, the better you’ll handle the episodes. If you ever want to talk about it...”
“I don’t. I won’t. I’m fine, really.”
“All right. Well, don’t worry about the room. I’ll send someone up to clean.”
“No! No,” I said more gently. “I’ll take care of it.”
A pause, then, “If that’s what you prefer.” Like Cole, he left the room.
Left me alone.
My new heart sped up all over again.
*
I righted the furniture and cleaned the room, even patched the hole in my wall. The one Cole had caused. It had reminded me of him, and I wasn’t fond of reminders right now. I threw our picture in the trash.
The next week passed in a daze. Every day I had to bury my emotions as deep as they would go and pretend everything was peachy, just to make it through school. Kat and Reeve treated me the same; they had no idea Cole and I had broken up. I hadn’t told anyone, and for some reason, neither had he. I think the girls were onto me, though, and I expected questions very, very soon.
I stayed away from Cole’s gym and worked out with Kat in Mr. Ankh’s. I still hadn’t been put on rotation, but I hadn’t pushed because the zombies hadn’t made another appearance.
I wasn’t eating, wasn’t sleeping.
I couldn’t go on like this.
“Emma,” I said as I burrowed under my covers. “Emma.” I needed my baby sister.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed before she materialized in the center of my room.
“Oh, Ali.” She stretched beside me on the bed, ghosting her hand through my hair. Somehow she calmed me, the weird heartbeat evening out, the hunger pains that always seemed to hover at the edge of my conscious ebbing. “I hate seeing you like this.”
“I’m better now that you’re here.”
“I’m glad. And I’m glad you called me.” Her dark eyes were luminous as she said, “Would it help to know I’ve been watching Cole? He’s miserable, too.”
“Maybe,” I said with a sniffle. “Why have you been watching him?”
“I think he’s spying on the other slayers.”
Why would he do that? He trusted the people around him, everyone but me, that is, and—
Wait. “I don’t care anymore.” I changed the subject. “The night I was bitten, you didn’t put a rabbit cloud in the sky. Why?”
“I had been watching the zombie nests, and none of them had stirred. The ones that attacked you came out of nowhere.”
No, they’d had to come from somewhere. But where? And what did this mean...for the...future? Can’t concentrate. So tired.
“I’m losing you,” she said with a chuckle. “Rest now.”
I must have fallen asleep at long last; the next time I opened my eyes, she was gone.
Thursday, Nana tried to talk to me about my sudden withdrawal. She was worried I was sick. I assured her I was the picture of health.
Friday, Mackenzie and Trina insisted on driving me home from school, and I buckled in back of a beat-up Jeep. They knew my situation without being told.