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  But she’ll just send me home and then I’ll have to play sick even though I still feel okay. Not perfect like I did on Saturday, but better than I used to. And the vodka didn’t even make the effects of the transfusion wear off faster. It’s like my body can do anything when I have that blood!

  What am I even supposed to say to Olivia? Kaz and I told her we were both wasted and we were just kidding around. But that’s not totally true. Mostly, but not totally, and anyway it didn’t make Liv feel any better.

  It’s not like I want to steal her boyfriend—Kaz is a big goofball and we were drunk. If Olivia hadn’t seen us, I bet he and I would have been laughing about it in a couple minutes. It was no threat to Olivia, really. But she’s mad at me. Madder at me than at him.

  I mean, she completely ditched me afterward! She knew I’d been drinking and she still didn’t even lecture me about my health or yell at me for being irresponsible—or even drive me home! It was amazing. She got mad and stormed off, and everyone else was all scandalized and some of the girls gave me the cold shoulder. Mindy Ryman told me I was out of control. Jacey and Lai-wan couldn’t stop laughing. And Chris Briglia ended up giving me a ride! Like he wanted to not be the one to get me drunk, but he’s happy to be the one taking my side after I act like a drunken idiot. This morning he even waited by my locker to make sure I was okay. He says everyone acts weird at parties, so I fit right in. My theory: He doesn’t know what to think of me anymore, and he seems to like that. Hee! Weirdo.

  But the point is, I didn’t need Olivia. I managed fine without her, and I didn’t need her being all mother hen to me. She acted like I was a normal girl kissing her boyfriend—and everyone else acted like I was normal, too. Not, Sick Girl kisses boy. Just, OMG, Shay made out with Olivia’s boyfriend.

  Slutty? I guess. But normal!

  So do I have to go grovel to Olivia now? She deserves it. She deserves the best apology I can come up with. But if she gives me the silent treatment for the rest of the year, that might be a nice break.

  “I thought you’d still be hiding,” Olivia snapped, dropping her books onto the lab table with a thud.

  Shay sighed and closed her journal. “I thought you’d still be not talking to me.”

  “I’m waiting for an explanation,” Olivia said, tapping her perfect fingernails on the table. Shay glanced around the room. The bell was only a minute away, so most people were there, and most people were watching the two of them.

  “Where’s Kaz?” Shay asked.

  “None of your business,” Olivia said.

  “Well, why aren’t you mad at him?”

  “I am! But he’s not my best friend,” Olivia said. “You are. Or you’re supposed to be. Just what the hell were you thinking?”

  “I wasn’t. I felt really good and I wanted to have fun,” Shay said. “I was drunk and so was Kaz. That’s all there is to it. Drunken party moment.” That definitely wasn’t the best apology she could come up with. It wasn’t an apology at all. But Olivia had so much attitude that Shay couldn’t bring herself to say, “sorry.” Even though she was.

  “You shouldn’t even be drinking at all. It could kill you, for all you know,” Olivia cried.

  Shay rolled her eyes. “Yeah, how dare I try to do something normal?”

  “Macking on your best friend’s boyfriend isn’t normal,” Olivia said. “You’ve been acting like a freak, Shay.”

  “I’m acting like myself for once,” Shay argued. Was that herself—when she finally felt strong enough? Was she a girl who kissed her best friend’s boy?

  Drunken party moment, she thought. And, yes, that was herself. A girl who’d enjoyed—and then regretted—a drunken kiss.

  “You are not! Pushing yourself to run, getting drunk? That’s practically suicidal behavior for you. You’re being an idiot.” Olivia crossed her arms and frowned. “I should tell your mother what you did.”

  “Fine. Go tattle on me like a five-year-old,” Shay yelled.

  “You’re not worth it,” Olivia yelled back. “If you’re going to act like a bitch, maybe I shouldn’t even bother worrying about you.”

  “Thank God. Nobody asked you to worry about me,” Shay snapped. “And guess what? Maybe I am a bitch, or a freak, or whatever you want to call me. You wouldn’t even know.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Olivia gasped.

  “You don’t know anything about me. All you know about is blood counts and heart rates and whether I look pale. It’s never even occurred to you that I might have actual opinions or feelings,” Shay said. “Or that I might want to do things like jog around the track—”

  “—or kiss someone else’s boyfriend,” Olivia cut in.

  “Yeah,” Shay cried. “You’ve never even asked me what boys I like. It’s never entered your mind that I’m a girl with normal girl thoughts.”

  “Going after Kaz is not normal! God.”

  “Fine, so stop being my friend then,” Shay said. “You just want the sick friend who’s no competition for you. The second I start acting like myself, you call me a bitch.”

  “That is enough!” Mr. Bonetto’s voice boomed through the classroom.

  Shay jumped in surprise. She hadn’t heard the bell ring, but the room was full and the teacher was glaring at them. Olivia immediately turned bright red, and Shay waited for her own cheeks to heat up.

  But then she spotted Kaz, who had taken a seat at the lab table farthest away from them and wouldn’t even meet her eye. What a coward, she thought. He ’s the only one in the room not riveted to this performance of Friend v. Friend.

  And suddenly it all seemed funny. The way Brian Kiley was leering at her, the way Rupa Magge’s eyes had widened to three sizes bigger than normal … even the way Bonetto’s forehead vein was popping. It was just a big farce. Shay burst out laughing.

  Olivia’s eyes flew back to Shay’s face, and Shay covered her mouth. But she couldn’t stop.

  “How dare you?” Olivia whispered, her voice shaking.

  It just made Shay laugh harder. “How dare you?” Who actually says that?

  “This is not funny, Ms. McGuire,” Bonetto said in his stern-professor voice.

  “It kind of is,” Shay said. “I mean, it’s not. But I’ve only been healthy for a week and look at all the chaos.”

  Mr. Bonetto stared at her, baffled.

  “I’m just saying, it’s kind of fun,” Shay went on. Maybe it shouldn’t be, but it just was.

  “Disrupting your fellow students is not fun,” he said. “Move to another lab table, both of you girls.”

  “She should move,” Olivia muttered.

  “I was here first,” Shay told her. “Plus, I’m too weak and sick to move. I shouldn’t push myself.”

  “Both of you move—now!” Bonetto yelled.

  “Fine.” Shay stood up and grabbed her books. “I’ll go work by myself. I knew I should’ve just skipped this stupid class.”

  “Excuse me?” Mr. Bonetto said.

  “This lab is a waste of time,” Shay told him. “I could do it in my sleep.”

  “Watch your attitude, Shay,” he warned her.

  “Or what?” Shay asked. “You can’t do anything to me. I’m too frail.”

  “I can send you to the principal,” Bonetto snapped.

  Shay just stared at him in shock. So did everyone else.

  “Go!” he yelled.

  Her brain numb, Shay gathered up her books and headed for the door. Brian was still leering at her and Rupa looked ready to pass out from shock. But Kaz didn’t lift his eyes from the lab table. And neither did Olivia.

  Shay walked as slowly as possible through the echoing hallways. By the time she got to the principal’s office, she felt more like crying than laughing. Her hands shook as she opened the door, and the sympathetic looks from the secretaries made her cringe.

  “Come right in, Shay,” Principal Brewer said. Bonetto had obviously called him to say she was coming.

  Shay sank down on his scratch
y couch and took a deep breath. That scene in Bio had sucked all the strength from her limbs, she realized, even though she hadn’t noticed it at the time.

  “Your mother is on her way,” the principal told her.

  “Oh, God.” Shay buried her face in her hands. “You called her?”

  “You’ve never had as much as one detention before. Obviously something’s wrong,” he said. “What happened?”

  “I’m not even sure,” she said. “I got into a fight with my friend, and I didn’t know class had started. And then Mr. Bonetto yelled at me … and I just lost it.”

  Principal Brewer perched on the edge of his desk, chewing thoughtfully on his lip.

  “I was acting like a bitch,” Shay told him. “That’s what Olivia said, and she’s right. But I never get to do stuff like that, and it was sort of fun in a weird way. So I kept doing it.”

  He didn’t get it, Shay could tell by his expression. She wasn’t even sure that she understood it herself.

  “Your mother mentioned a new treatment for your disease,” he said. “I’ve heard some medications can cause emotional swings as a side effect.”

  “It’s not a medication,” Shay said. “It’s just blood, but my stepfather did something to it. …” She didn’t even know what Martin had done, she realized. For all she knew, he’d put uppers in the blood. “Anyway, it doesn’t feel like a side effect. It feels like me being awake for the first time.”

  “Oh. Well …” he cleared his throat. “If this behavior is the result of your treatment, of course that’s something we can all work around.”

  “I just said it wasn’t a result,” Shay said. “Not the way you mean. Or if it is, it’s a good result. I’m thinking for myself and taking risks and experiencing things.”

  “Shay, what happened just now isn’t good. I think maybe this medicine … or specialized blood … I think it’s making you confused.”

  “Why does everybody have to make it about my disease?” she exploded. “Isn’t it possible that I’m just a brat?”

  Principal Brewer got up and walked around the desk to sit down in his big chair. He clearly didn’t know what to do with her. Shay didn’t blame him. She slumped back against the couch. Of course he was going to make it about her being sick. That’s all he saw. That’s all anyone saw. How awful would she have to be before anybody started blaming her instead of her bad blood?

  “Acting out is a fairly common reaction among chronically ill children,” the principal said after a moment. “You’ve always been so even-tempered before, but I suppose you’re due.”

  Tired. I’ve been tired before, not even-tempered, Shay thought. And I’m not acting out, I’m just acting. Just doing things. Just trying out life.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at Mr. Bonetto,” she mumbled.

  “I’m sure he’ll forgive you. Everybody understands how difficult it is to be ill.”

  “But why would you shout at your teacher?” Shay’s mother demanded. She’d arrived at school all out of breath, as if she ’d sprinted the whole way there. But then she hadn’t wanted to do anything on the ride home except make Shay take her pulse and hysterically call Martin’s office to report on the “out of character” behavior.

  Now that they were settled at the kitchen table—with a giant glass of juice in front of Shay—the inquisition had started.

  “Bonetto yelled at me, so I yelled back.” Shay shrugged. “I didn’t think he’d do anything about it.”

  Usually Shay liked being home with only her mother, at least when she could refrain from smother mode. That’s how it had always been before Martin—just Shay and Mom. Shay hadn’t missed having a father around, because he’d never been there. She’d been happy when Mom got married, and Martin was great. But it still didn’t feel exactly like home when he was there. It felt more like home plus one.

  Today, home plus one would feel good. Martin could diffuse a little of the tension with his science-guy objectivity.

  “Well, why did he yell at you?” Her mother frowned, and Shay knew what was coming—Mom demanding that Mr. Bonetto be reprimanded for being mean to sick kids.

  “Mom, I deserved it. Olivia and I were screaming at each other and I didn’t stop when he said.”

  Her mother’s eyebrows shot up. “What? But you girls have been friends forever!”

  “I thought you were mad at me about school, not about Olivia.” Shay reached for the juice, but the glass felt too heavy to lift. Better to just sit still for a moment.

  “What has gotten into you lately? Fighting with your best friend, mouthing off to a teacher.” Her mother was so busy pacing that she didn’t seem to notice how tired Shay was. “This isn’t like you.”

  “You sound like Olivia,” Shay mumbled.

  “It’s the new treatment,” her mother said. “It’s making you act crazy.”

  “It makes me feel better. It lets me be me. I can do stuff I couldn’t do before.”

  “Like get sent to the principal?”

  Shay sighed, trying to ignore the way the room had shrunk down to just the table in front of her. Tunnel vision always came before the collapse. “I don’t know how to be normal,” she said. “I’m never strong enough to do what I want or say what I think. So when I felt better, I tried to do that. I didn’t expect it to be such a disaster.”

  “Shay, you are normal,” her mother began, but Shay shook her head. Dizziness swept through her at the movement.

  “I’m not normal, I’m sick. That’s what you all expect, sick Shay. Nobody knows what to do with me when I don’t act all weak and victim-y,” she murmured.

  Mom’s mouth was moving again, but the words were lost in the rushing of blood in Shay’s ears. She tried to stay sitting up, but it didn’t work.

  Her mother caught her before she hit the floor.

  “I don’t like what these new transfusions are doing to you,” her mother whispered, her eyes filled with fear.

  “I do,” Shay whispered back.

  “Let’s get you upstairs, then I’ll call Martin again.” Her mom hoisted Shay to her feet, and they headed for the staircase. “Maybe just a regular transfusion today.”

  Shay didn’t answer. She was too tired to argue. And besides, Martin would give her the new treatment. He wanted information. And Shay wanted to feel normal again.

  It was a win-win.

  “Your mom thinks the new treatment is making you act aggressively,” Martin said as he studied Shay’s arm half an hour later. “Do you feel aggressive?”

  “No. I just feel strong.” Shay winced as he pushed on a likely vein. “That one’s too bruised. Strong and aggressive aren’t the same, are they?”

  “I don’t think so. But it’s possible that your behavior is being caused by the treatments.” Martin moved on to a spot lower on her arm. “We have to keep track of any side effects.”

  “Did you dose the blood? Am I getting roid rage?” Shay asked. Martin laughed right out loud, which she had never heard him do before. It was so unexpected that Shay joined in.

  “I’m no psychologist, but I’ve dealt with sick kids all through my career. Want to hear my theory?” Martin said. “I think that hormones are unpredictable, and that even the best kids act out eventually. If you’d never been sick, arguing with friends and getting sent home from school wouldn’t ring any alarm bells.”

  “So I’m hormonal?” Shay asked.

  Martin shrugged. “It just doesn’t seem like a big deal to me. Roid rage … well, you let me know if you start throwing desks at your friends during Social Studies.”

  Shay nodded, though the effort exhausted her. “Will do.” She lay back, her hand wandering up to the locket around her neck, the way it always did when she was tired. If Martin had ever noticed, he hadn’t said anything.

  “For all I know, my father was aggressive,” she murmured. “Maybe that’s why Mom is all freaked about it. She thinks I’m turning into him.”

  Martin’s eyes flew up to her face. He hesitated for
the briefest of seconds, and then he went back to looking at her arm. “I think she’s upset about you and only you.”

  “So you don’t know?” Shay asked. “Did she ever tell you about him? Because she won’t tell me.”

  “She said he abandoned her.” Martin sat back and sighed. “To be honest, Shay, I forced your mother to tell me everything she knew about him. It must’ve occurred to you that your blood disorder could be hereditary.”

  “Well, yeah.” Shay let go of the locket. “But I always figured if it was, we would’ve heard about it before. No one’s ever seen my particular disease, not even you.”

  “Nevertheless, your father’s medical history could be important. Your mom knew that. If she could have, she’d have tracked him down the instant she found out you were sick. She’d have done anything for you, even go through the pain of seeing him again. But he made sure he disappeared completely.”

  “Would’ve been nice of him to leave a medical file behind,” Shay said.

  “I hired a private detective, but he didn’t find anything,” Martin told her. “I’m sorry.”

  Shay closed her eyes. She shouldn’t have brought up her dad. Was he some kind of con man? Had he just given her mother a fake name?

  “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s not like I miss him—you don’t miss someone you never even met.” Really, a little voice inside Shay replied. Then why do you wear the locket every day?

  She ignored the little voice. The locket wasn’t even hers. Her father had given it to her mom when they were dating. Before he took off. And then one day when Shay was eleven, she’d been having a total fit about how she didn’t have a father, and her mom had handed over the locket to get her to calm down. Shay had been in the hospital for two weeks, and the next day they let her go home. So she’d started wearing the locket all the time. She just had. End of story.

  “We’re making progress, even without his information. My research leads me more toward a mutation, anyhow,” Martin said, patting her arm as if that was a comforting thing to say. “You ready for the transfusion?”