The Undead (Lesbian Story)

Friends?

"Cool. I'm Kathryn, but everyone calls me Kat. And do not make any cat jokes or I'll have to hurt you. With my claws." She waved the long, blunt tips of her fingers at me. "Truth is, I stopped speaking meow a long time ago."

Speaking meow? "I'm guessing calling you Pretty Kitty is out." I don't know where my burst of humor sprang from, but I wasn't gonna fight it. All of my energy was needed fighting everything else. "But what about Mad Dog?"

Her lips twitched into the semblance of a grin. "Har, har. But now I'll be disappointed if you don't call me Mad Dog." She shifted back on her heels, the movement graceful, fluid. "So, uh, yeah. About my visit. Let's get the info exchange out of the way first. My mom works here, and she brought me with her today. She said you could really use a friend, or something equally tragic like that."

"I'm fine," I rushed out. There was that stupid word again. Fine.

"I know, right? That's what I told her." Kat sauntered over, pulled the only chair in the room next to my bed and plopped down. "Besides, people don't open up to strangers. That'd just be weird. But she's my mom, and you're clearly in need of a shoulder to cry on, so what was I supposed to say? No? Even I'm not that cruel."

Her pity wasn't something I'd accept. "You can tell your mom I was rude and kicked you out."

"Also," she continued as if I hadn't spoken, "life's way too short to wallow in sorrow, I know. Anyway, as I'm sure you've already deduced, I'm stellar company. Oh, oh. And guess what? There's an opening in my Fave Five-not those old lame phone commercials, but my actual inner circle-and I'm actively looking to fill the top spot. We'll just consider this your interview."

Somehow, her little speech caused that flicker of good humor to stir back to life. I couldn't help but say, "Your top spot is a job, then?"

"Of course." She fluffed her hair. "I don't want to brag, but I'm very high maintenance."

"Uh, I think low maintenance is what's desirable."

"Low maintenance is what's forgettable. You might want to write that down, underline it, circle it and put a star by it. It's golden." With barely a breath, she added, "Now let's find out if we're compatible, shall we?"

O-kay. We were gonna do this thing, then. We were gonna go all the way. See Alex pretend everything is beyond peachy. "Sure. We shall."

"So...you lost everyone, huh?" she asked.

Talk about kicking things off with a bang. But at least she hadn't offered platitudes or tiptoed around the subject. Maybe that's why I responded to her with a croaked "Yeah." It was more than I'd offered anyone else.

"Bummer."

"Yeah."

"You gonna eat that?" She pointed to the vanilla pudding someone had brought me earlier.

"Nope."

"Awesome. I'm starved." With a wide, white grin, she confiscated the pudding and the spoon and settled back in her chair. One taste left her moaning with satisfaction. "So check this out and tell me if you agree."

"Uh, okay." I had a feeling I'd be uttering "uh" many more times before this conversation ended. Even sitting there, she was like a whirlwind of energy I had no idea how to contain.

After another bite of the pudding, she said, "Here goes. See, my girlfriend and I decided to stay together for the summer, you know, even though she had to go visit some family in nowhereville. At least, that's what she told me. Anyway, everything was fine at first, because you know, we talked every night, and then boom, she just stopped calling. So I called and texted her like the good girlfriend I am, and it wasn't stalkerish, I swear, because I stopped after, like, the thirtieth time. A week goes by before she finally hits me back, and she was totally drunk and all, hey, baby, I miss you and what are you wearing, like no time had passed, and I was all, you so do not deserve to know."