Undead and Unpopular

Chapter 11

The kitchen door swung open before Jessica, Eric, Tina, or I could say another word. "I'm home!" Antonia the werewolf called, Garrett right behind her.
"Not now, Toni."
"How many fucking times I have to tell you? AnTONE-ee-uh. Just because your lousy stepmother has the same name doesn't mean I have to change mine."
"Not now."
"Oh." She looked down at me. Garrett did, too. "Jessica finally told you, huh?"
Eleventh!
"Duck and cover," Tina muttered, but I was in no condition to launch myself at our resident psychic werewolf.
"You saw it in a vision?" Jessica asked.
"Hell, no. You smell totally bland. What, you guys didn't know?" Toni was looking around at all of us. With her short, Aeon Flux-like dark hair and big brown eyes, she should have looked more innocent than she sounded. And I didn't know what was up with the old T-shirt and Daisy Duke shorts (and flip-flops! In April!) but right now, her grotesque fashion screwup was the least of my problem. "Huh. Guess I should have said something before I left."
"Think so?" I snarked from the floor. "As your punishment, you are now and forever known as Toni."
"The hell!"
"Jessica's sick," Garrett said helpfully. "Also, there's a zombie in the attic."
"Shut up. Help me up. Goddammit, I'm kicking some serious ass in a minute."
"I'm outta here," Toni said at once, turning to leave. "Just wanted you to know I'm back from the Cape."
"Well, thanks for sharing." God, she was the most fucking annoying person in the fucking history of fucking people! Ever! Though, to be fair, I may have been feeling overly sensitive at that moment.
"Come on up to the bedroom and welcome me back," Toni was saying to Garrett as they left the kitchen. Ugh. I prayed I wouldn't be able to hear them doing it.
"What are your immediate plans?" Sinclair asked Jessica as he grabbed my elbow and lifted me effortlessly to my feet. Apparently, I was done wallowing.
"Chemo, probably. We're still figuring out options."
"How sick are you?" I asked anxiously.
"Not sick at all, compared to how I'll feel when they shoot radiation into me," she said with glum humor. "I'm just tired a lot these days. I actually thought I might be... well..."
"Pregnant?" Tina suggested quietly.
Jessica nodded. "Yeah. I'd been tired, and I'd-well, there were other symptoms. And Nick and I-anyway. I was wrong. Definitely not pregnant."
"Does Nick know?"
She looked away. "Nobody knows except you guys."
"Oh." I knew Jess very well, better than anybody (I was pretty sure), and I knew why she hadn't said anything. I didn't like it, but I could figure it out.
"If you thought you were carrying his child, then perhaps you should tell him you're ill."
"I don't want to. I didn't want to tell you guys, remember?"
"Oh, I remember." I still had tile marks mashed into my butt, for God's sake.
"It's like-it's not real if nobody alive knows. Right?" She smiled crookedly, dark eyes filling with tears. "It's not happening to me if the only people who know are dead."
I felt like a total toad, watching her cry. "Come on, don't do that." I hugged her. Had she lost weight? Was she bonier than usual? I was embarrassed that I didn't know. And why hadn't I smelled anything different? Sure I was still rather new at this, but couldn't I learn stuff like that? Was I that damned selfish? So wrapped up in my own troubles that I didn't care when my best friend caught cancer?
And hey, could you catch cancer? I didn't know a thing about it. That would change as soon as I could get my ass to a computer. Or my hands on those seven fucking specialists.
"You're living with the king and queen of the vampires, a werewolf, an actor, and a doctor."
"And a Libra," Tina piped up, a rare joke.
"Right. We'll help you. We'll fix it."
"You're an idiot," Jessica sobbed in my arms.
"That's the spirit!"
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she finally offered. Finally. "It's just all this stuff with Sophie and Liam and Alonzo. And your birthday and your wedding. I didn't want to be the downer, you know?"
I knew. And that's when I got my idea. My really, ridiculously, atrociously bad idea.