Midnight Sun(8)

I know the cat story was ridiculous and lame, but I can actually think of a few sentences that would have been worse. “Really? Like ‘Hey, I’m Katie, I’ve watched you from my window every day for the last ten years’?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t start with that…”

I cross my arms and give her a hard stare. “Okay, how about this, then. ‘You may recall me from Purdue Elementary, where everyone referred to me as Vampire Girl.’”

Morgan rolls her eyes at me. “No one remembers that!”

I sigh and punch my pillow. “I’ve always wanted to talk to him and I’ve always wanted to see him in real life and then I finally got to and I froze. My body betrayed me. You betrayed me!” I yell, staring down at myself in disgust.

“You’ll make up for it next time,” Morgan says, her voice softening. She’s not laughing at me anymore. She knows how much last night could have meant to me, and how crappy I feel for screwing it all up.

I give her a look. “You saw my tweet.” I’m referring to the one I made last night after I got home: Ugh. Never going out again. I mean it.

“Katie, this is actually a good thing, you’ll see,” Morgan says. “Now you know you can go out and interact with people our age and not everyone is a mean-ass bully. You’re very likable. Even when you say dumb stuff about your dead cat to the hottest guy in school.”

“Stop reminding me!” I say, smacking myself in the forehead with my palm. I really think I might cry now. “Besides, all last night proved is that I’m completely socially inept after being stuck in the house all these years. I refuse to embarrass myself like that ever again.”

Morgan pats my knee. “So you’re a little rusty. All the more reason to get back out there. Who knows what exciting thing might happen next time?”

“There’s not gonna be a next time,” I grumble. “At least not with Charlie.”

“You don’t know that—”

I stop her before she can give me any untrue reasons for why things might possibly work out in the future. “Yeah, I do. That was my shot. I’m never gonna see him again. And I know that for a fact because I’m never leaving the house again. My dad will be so relieved!”

“Come on now,” Morgan says. “You don’t really mean that.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Yes, I do.”

She stops trying to convince me I’m anything but a total fail at boys and life on the outside in general, and starts scrolling through her phone instead. Her jaw drops and she looks back up at me with saucer eyes. “Have you checked out Dear Gabby today?”

My heart shifts into high gear. This can mean only one thing. I wrote a question to our favorite advice columnist months ago, thought about sending it every day, but refused until a moment of weakness—not to mention acute loneliness—got me late one night a few weeks ago. I never thought I’d actually get a response, so I have no idea how to deal with the news that my frighteningly honest and embarrassingly revealing thoughts are out there in a public forum for anyone to read. I head straight into denial.

“No,” I mumble, fighting the urge to rip the phone out of Morgan’s hands to assess the damage. “I don’t really follow Dear Gabby anymore.”

Morgan screws up her mouth and gives me her best sassy face. “So you’re telling me you didn’t write this letter? And that some other random girl with a condition that sounds like XP who sounds exactly like you did?”

I refuse to meet her eyes and pretend to be totally engrossed in picking fuzzies off my baby blanket instead.

“Fine. This totally isn’t you,” she says, and starts reading the words I already know. My heart is hammering against my rib cage now like it’s trying to jump out and run away from this mortifying situation. “Dear Gabby, First, the bad news: I have a life-threatening illness where my body can’t deal with UV rays. Now the good news: Other than flipping day and night—if I can’t go out in the sun, I might as well enjoy the stars—I live a normal life for the most part. I play guitar, hang out with my BFF, kill it in school (I’m graduating with a 4.0 and am now taking college classes), and have a great relationship with my dad.

“The only thing missing is that special someone—I’m no different from anyone else when it comes to wanting to find a deep and magical connection. But barring dating a vampire who’s centuries too old for me, what guy would ever be able to deal with the strange hours I keep? Not to mention the fact that we’d never be able to go on a beach vacation together?

“Despite everything I have working against me, there is someone I’d like to get to know better. He has no idea I exist, but I’ve watched him from a distance for years and have always been drawn to what appears to be his kindness and good humor. He’s also ridiculously cute.

“So, Gabby, give it to me straight: Should I just give up on the idea of love, specifically with this boy? Or make a grand gesture to get his attention and hope he’s cool with my genetic malfunction? Signed, Sunless but not Hopeless.”

Morgan looks back up from her phone. I’m blushing from head to toe. I shake my head furiously. “Nope. No, no, no. Not me.”

“So I guess that also means you have no interest in Dear Gabby’s reply then, huh?” Morgan says, a little smile playing around her lips.