Okay, just kidding. One more chapter tonight. Keep the reviews coming! I love them!

DECEMBER 4

I stood in front of the hospital vending machine, glaring at it. I really wanted a Sprite, but that had forty-six grahams of carbohydrates – most of which were pure sugar – and that was about how much I was supposed to have at one meal. And if I had anything with carbs, I had to take a shot.

So my choices were to either take a stupid shot, or get a stupid diet soda.

I hated diet soda.

But I hated shots, too.

I sighed. Being diabetic really sucked.

Dad and I had just gotten done with my training – Mom had done the same training earlier in the morning, while my friends and family had paraded through my room to visit with me. They'd unhooked the IVs for my training. I wasn't sure if I'd have to put them back in when I got back to my room or not. I guess it would depend on what my bloodsugar was.

At this training, I'd learned how to load and give shots to myself. I'd learned about the different kinds of insulin – the doctor wanted to start me on Lantus for nights and Humalog for meals. I'd learned how to test my bloodsugar. I'd learned how to calculate my insulin for the food that I ate and for my bloodsugar – more insulin if I was high, less if I was low. I'd learned how to count carbs and how many carbs I should have – between forty-five and sixty per meal and about fifteen for a snack before bed each night. I'd learned how to handle sick days – even if I was puking my guts out, I still had to eat to make sure my bloodsugar didn't go low. I'd learned the most common symptoms of low and high bloodsugar – though it was possible that my personal symptoms would be a little different. It was also possible that foods would effect me slightly differently than they'd effect another diabetic. I would just have to figure it all out. It would take time for me to learn what worked best for my body and my diabetes.

I was just glad that I'd been able to go to the training in my own clothes, and not that stupid hospital gown.

Once we were done, I'd begged Dad to let me walk back to my hospital room on my own. I'd wanted a chance to just be alone, and to try to digest it all.

And I really wanted a soda.

"You know, you have to actually put money into the machine to get something out of it."

I turned around. A girl was leaning against the wall behind me. She was probably about my age, definitely shorter than me, with dark red hair that was pulled into a long side braid. Her skin was about as pale as mine, but with a light dusting of freckles. She had very vivid green eyes. She was wearing skinny jeans and a blue tee-shirt that said, "Whatever. I'm getting cheese fries."

She smiled, waving slightly. "Hi. I'm Willow Griffin. Is there a reason that you're glaring at the vending machine like it ran over your dog?"

That got a surprised chuckle out of me. I took a step back, to give her enough room. "Sorry. Did you want something? Go ahead. I haven't decided what I want." Well, I knew exactly what I wanted. I just wasn't sure if it was worth it or not.

"Huh. Somehow, I don't think that's quite true," she said, but she slipped around me and put a dollar into the machine. "So, back to my question, because I am seriously curious. Why were you glaring at a vending machine? Seems kind of like a wasted effort to me. I mean, it's not like the machine can respond."

I sighed. "I was just diagnosed with type one diabetes. What I really want is a Sprite. But that has a lot of carbs and sugar, so if I get it, then I have to stab myself with a needle."

She winced, choosing a green tea. "Ooh, suckage."

"Yeah."

Her eyes zoned in on the hospital band around my wrist. "Just today?"

"Yesterday. On my birthday." I wouldn't normally just tell this stuff to a complete stranger, but I felt like whining a little bit. It did suck. "And because I got admitted, I had to miss out on a really cool play that's only in town until tonight. And I'm stuck in here. Probably until sometime tomorrow."

She winced again. "Double suckage. Actually, that sounds more like triple suckage. I'm super sorry."

I shrugged. "Yeah, but what can you do?" I looked at her closely. She didn't look familiar. I was pretty sure I'd remember that red hair. "Do you live here in Camelot? I don't think I've seen you around before."

"You probably haven't. I just moved here two days ago, from Nebraska. My grandma has lung cancer, and my mom wanted to be closer to her. I'm transferring to Avalon High, right after the Christmas break." Our Christmas break hadn't technically started yet. We had another week before it started. I was pretty sure that my parents were going to let me stay home this week, though. Which I appreciated. "Do you go to Avalon High?"

"Yeah, I do. It's a good school. What grade are you in?"

"I'm a junior. You?"

"Same."

"Oh, sweet. At least I'll have one familiar face on my first day. Is it true that Avalon High's big sport is fencing?"

I laughed. We were one of the few schools who even had a fencing team. Well, it was a fairly big deal in this area, but there were still only about ten schools that competed. And they were kind of spread out, so traveling to competitions took several hours. "Yeah, it is. There are a lot of sports offered, but fencing is the big one at Avalon. It shouldn't be too surprising, though. Our mascot is a knight."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "You aren't on the fencing team, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

"Good. That would have made me rethink your coolness."

I narrowed my eyes at her, but I couldn't help grinning slightly. "Careful. My grandfather was on the fencing team."

Willow patted my arm in mock sympathy. "I am so sorry."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Whatever. I'm sorry about your grandmother. Cancer can't be any fun." And of course, it was just another one of those things that magic couldn't heal. My mom had mentioned that magic had a hard time healing the body against itself, and cancer was literally the body attacking itself.

Kind of like type one diabetes.

Willow gave me a sad smile. "It's not. But unfortunately, it's a part of life. By the way, I'd get a Fresca if I were you. It doesn't have any carbs or sugar, but it doesn't really taste like a diet drink. See you in school, hopefully."