Read Frost for Free Online Page B

there.
    “Me neither, at the moment,” she said, pushing herself up to stand. “I had a thing with this amazing guy over the summer. The bassist for Wishmaker. Do you know them? Anyway, I was completely in love, but he ended up being all obsessed and stalkerish, so I had to go through this big mess to get out of it. Really sucked. Maybe there’s a guy here who has a cast fetish.”
    “I have to run the peer-counseling orientation for new students in a little bit,” I said, grateful I had an excuse to leave. “Do you need to use the bathroom, or anything, before I shower?”
    “Nope.” Celeste’s back was to me as she looked through her closet. “Something stinks over here,” she muttered, shutting the door. I grabbed Cubby off the windowsill and hid her in the towel I was carrying. I didn’t want to have to explain why I was taking a wooden owl with me to the bathroom.
    On my way out, Celeste picked up the family snapshot off her dresser.
    “That’s a nice picture,” I said. “I was so sorry to hear—”
    “Look.” She turned to face me. “I don’t know what big-mouth David told you, but let’s get something straight. I do not discuss my father. Got it? Do. Not. Discuss. My. Father.”
    “Okay. But if you ever want to talk—”
    “I won’t,” she said. “Ever.” She shoved the photo into her top drawer, all the way at the back. “David doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. I hope you do.”
    “I guess, yeah. I mean, I do.”
    “And speaking of David’s big mouth, I want you to know I didn’t do it on purpose.” She tapped one of her crutches against her cast. “I know he thinks I did.”
    “He told me it was an accident,” I said.
    “I’m just telling you. Don’t believe everything he says. He thinks I’m some sort of delicate creature. I’m not. Okay?”
    “Okay.” Although I’d known Celeste for longer than I’d known her brother, if I’d had to trust one of them, I would have picked David.
    In any case, I didn’t need to worry about it right now. I had a presentation in front of two hundred students to get through. I went to the bathroom and turned on the shower in the claw-foot tub. While waiting for the water to heat up, I lifted off Cubby’s head. My first semester at Barcroft, I was embarrassed about a prescription I was taking for a urinary tract infection, so I’d hidden the pills in here. Since then, Cubby had become my quirky portable medicine cabinet.
    I took out the folded piece of paper that lay on top: a list I’d made of the pills’ usage and dosage information. I didn’t keep them in their boxes or bottles, but in tiny plastic baggies, labeled with a Sharpie— Tylenol PM, Sudafed Sinus & Cold, Ativan . . . .
    All I needed this morning was one of the round, white antianxiety pills. That should do it. My body’s nervous, physical reactions got in the way when I made presentations. The antianxiety medicine was for emergencies. Not spazzing out in front of the new students definitely qualified.
    After showering and brushing my teeth, I went back in the bedroom.
    Celeste stood holding her vase of orange tulips. “What was David thinking?” she asked me. The flowers hung limply, leaves a sickly yellow, petals shriveled. The last time I’d noticed, they hadn’t even opened the whole way—nowhere near dying. Across the room, my three were still in the flush of early bloom. They were from the same bunch. How could only hers have died?
    “Maybe they ran out of water?” I suggested.
    She shook the vase a little, then dumped it in the trash. A stream of water poured out along with the flowers. “Oh, well,” she said. “An untimely frost, I guess.”
    “What?” I thought I’d misunderstood.
    “ Romeo and Juliet ?” she said. “Juliet’s death. It’s compared to an ‘untimely frost’ that kills flowers in their prime.” She stared at me as if this was supposed to make sense. “This is Frost House, right?” she continued. “Must be in