11
Tina wasn’t kidding when she said that she doesn’t need sleep. Adjusting to being a roommate with someone who never needs shut-eye has been hard enough. Having a bird following her constantly hasn’t made things any better. At first, Tina experimented with trying to exhaust the poor thing. Her endless vampire energy never flags, so she’d run everywhere she went around campus, and had even taken to morning jogs in an effort to wear her bird out.
But the bird had seemed unfazed by all her tricks—until she got it drunk.
Now, it wants more.
“Oh my gods,” Tina cries, once again burying her head under a pillow as the bird alights on the headboard.
“Gawk!” It calls, its voice harsh. Vee actually folds her leaves around either side of her head.
“Gawk?” This time it comes out as a question,
