Zombie Blondes Page 12

  “I’m sorry,” Greg says, lowering his head to show he means it.

  “It’s okay,” I tell him. “I’m starting to think it’s not such a bad thing.” I’m starting to think Lukas isn’t all together upstairs. Now that I’ve gotten to know some of the kids he’s always warning me against, I realize how wrong he is. They’re as normal as kids anywhere else. Maybe they’re right to call him a freak. Maybe he really is just one of those bullied kids who goes on a shooting spree once they finally snap.

  I push the thought from my mind.

  I don’t like thinking that way about him. It’s not fair.

  “How do you like it here, anyway?” Greg asks, trying to change the mood as he skips a few steps to kick at a leaf pile on the curb.

  “Okay, I guess,” I lie. Though it’s getting closer to the truth with each friendly smile he gives me.

  “Why did you move here? You have family here or something?”

  That makes me laugh. Not because it’s funny, but because it couldn’t be further from the reason. “We don’t have family anywhere. No aunts, uncles, cousins, or grandparents,” I say. “Just me and my dad.” And that makes me laugh, too, though not the good kind of laugh because not even my dad is here. So really it’s just me. I might as well be an orphan for the next week.

  “If you stay here long enough, you’ll have more family than you’ll want,” he jokes. Telling me that living in a small town has its drawbacks that way. “But I guess it’s good, too. We all look out for one another. Protect our own, you know?”

  “Like a team,” I say.

  “Yeah, like a team.” He smiles, happy to see that I really do understand what he’s trying to tell me.

  I step closer to him, wanting suddenly to feel protected and part of the same team as him. His skin looks like a soft sculpture in the first shadows of nighttime. Perfectly smooth except for his chapped pink lips that crack when he stops smiling. I reach in front of me and rest my hands against his chest. He has to wrap his arms around me to hold me up and I can feel how strong he is as I lightly press my mouth against his chin.

  The moon pokes through the sky as we stand near my house in each other’s arms. My mouth softening his dry lips with a kiss that I never want to end, that I want to go on and on like the ocean off the coast of Virginia, somewhere in my memories.

  I’m still daydreaming about Greg an hour after watching him follow the sidewalk back into town. I wrap my arms around a pillow as I lie on the sofa imagining myself kissing him over and over again. Kissing him with my eyes closed like in a dream. There’s something about the way he kisses that’s unforgettable. That stays with me as the clock ticks away into the evening. It’s like part of me was swallowed up and changed inside him and I feel different now. Like a series of tiny stars are exploding beneath my skin and tickling me with their sparks.

  My dad says that’s another part of the teenage-girl sickness. He’s diagnosed me with it weekly for the last four years of my life. “First symptoms of a full-blown crush,” is what he tells me whenever I tell him about something magical that happens between me and a boy I like. It makes me angry the way he never takes it seriously. But then again, I’ve had friends whose dads take those things way, way too seriously and I guess I’m sort of glad it’s the other way around with mine. Still it gets on my nerves that he never believes in true love, and that most of the time he’s right about it just being a passing phase.

  He’d be wrong about Greg, though. Even if I’ve only known him for one day, I know my dad would be wrong.

  I hold the pillow closer, hugging it until all the fluff is squeezed out and then I relax my arms. I open my eyes and see the clock staring me in the face. I know I have to get up and make some food. I still have homework that can’t be ignored. I need to wash that uniform before it grows moldy, and the shower I promised myself is still waiting for me. But I know if I get up my whole body will ache. I know the phantom feeling of Greg’s arms will fade and leave me truly alone.

  The return of nightly noises outside the house is what finally forces me to stand up. A scratching sound moving clumsily over the dead leaves on the frozen ground. I watch the ceiling for headlights traveling across the room but there’s nothing. It doesn’t startle me quite the same as it did yesterday. Even if it is people looking for my dad, I’m not as worried anymore because I have people to protect me. I’m part of a team now.

  I get up from the sofa in a quick motion that brings back the memory of practice in the form of a shooting pain that dulls every inch of my spine. I do my best to shake it off and walk to the front door brave and steady because I don’t care who it is, I’m not running away anymore. I’m not hiding and I’m not going to be frightened. I open the door as wide as I can and face the darkness, standing up to the wind that rushes against me, doing its best to deter my confidence.

  A pair of glassy eyes meets me in the doorway.

  “It’s you.” My voice comes out somewhere in between relief and hatred at the sight of Lukas hunched over on the porch. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to sneak around a girl’s house and scare her half to death?” I tell him, exaggerating about how afraid I actually was.

  “Sorry,” he mumbles as insincerely as possible.

  The door swings slightly in my hand and I’m really close to slamming it shut. I can’t believe him. I can’t believe the nerve he has creeping around after the way he acted all day and then make it sound like my fault. Moping about like I’m the one who needs to apologize!

  “What do you want, Lukas?”

  His shoulders slump and his back curls to make his long body into the shape of a question mark as he shrugs. “Nothing really,” he says. Kicks at a few stray leaves that have blown onto the brick steps. Shoves his hands deeper in his pockets and glances up at the porch light. “Just wanted to see if you were okay.”

  “I’m fine,” saying it in a way that suggests that though I’m fine, there’s something wrong with him. “I don’t need you to protect me,” I tell him. Trying on purpose to be mean because I’m beginning to think that it was him creeping around yesterday, too. I’m starting to think he’s the only thing in this town that I need protection from.

  “It’s already happening,” he says under his breath.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He stands up straight and looks me in the eyes for the first time. Speaks clearly for the first time and says, “It means it won’t be long before you’re not you anymore.”

  “You don’t even know who I am!” I raise my voice because I’m not about to go through this again. I’ve had it with him telling me who I should be and who I shouldn’t be.

  “Don’t you get it?” he shouts back. “I’ve seen this happen before. You’ll get so swept away with being popular that you won’t see it coming. By the time you realize what’s happening, it’ll be too late. You’ll be one of them.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe that’s not such a bad thing.” Telling him he’s just jealous because I’m fitting in. “You’re just mad because I don’t want to be a freak like you.”

  He rushes at me and grabs my arm before I can shut the door. Staring at me with crazy eyes and spitting his words. “Hannah, you’ll be dead! You’ll feed on corpses like maggots do! Is that what you want? Is being popular worth that?” Screaming so that his voice hurts my ears.

  “If that was true, you’d already be dead,” I shout. “They’d have killed you a long time ago for being such a freak!”

  “You don’t think they’re not going to kill me?” he yells, gripping my wrists tighter so that I can’t pull away and slam the door. “You don’t think they’ll kill me as soon as they’re not worried about you getting suspicious?”

  I yell at him to stop.

  To let go of me and leave me alone.

  He only clenches me tighter. Shouts louder as if it will sink in as long as his words drown out every other sound in the world. He’s still yelling when the car drives by. And I’m still trying to figh
t him off when it pulls into my driveway. Lukas doesn’t notice the hum of the engine, the click of the car door, or the quick rush of footsteps hurrying up the walkway.

  An arm latches around Lukas’s neck and cuts off the words in one sudden strangling sound. He lets go of me and clutches at the arm sealing the air off from his lungs as he gasps for breath. The sheriff applies more pressure and drags Lukas a few feet away. He finally stops struggling once the sheriff throws him to the ground like tossing away the trash.

  I cover my mouth as he towers over Lukas with his arms folded and his boots ready to kick him if he dares to move. I’m not sure whether to rush out and help him or if I should throw my arms around Maggie’s dad and thank him for rescuing me. So I just stand there. Confused and useless.

  “You all right?” the sheriff asks in a low voice. His face is split down the middle, half hidden in the shadows while the other side is bathed in electric porch light.

  “Yes,” I say into the palms of my hands. But I can feel my heartbeat racing throughout my body and everything has happened so fast that I’m not sure if I’m all right or not.

  But he doesn’t seem too interested in my answer, anyway, turning his attention to Lukas. Bending down so that when he speaks, Lukas will feel the heat of his words. “A real tough guy, huh?” he sneers and Lukas coughs up spit on the ground as he tries hard to catch his breath.

  “Don’t hurt him,” I shout and they both glance at me. Both of them as surprised as me when I say “please.”

  The sheriff steps away as Lukas stumbles to his feet. The terror in his eyes upsets me and even though I have every reason to never want to see him again, I can’t help but feel sorry for him as he starts to jog away. Picking up the pace as the sheriff shouts out a warning for him not to come back. The sound of his feet, running faster, echoes off the empty houses as he passes them before ducking into the woods that cut through to his house.

  “Something’ll have to be done about that boy. He’s always been trouble,” the sheriff says. I don’t know why, but the tone of his voice gives me the chills. Wondering what he means by something. Worried that it means something worse than I can imagine so I tell him the whole thing was nothing. He raises one eyebrow at that and says it didn’t look like nothing. Gives me a speech about how girls try to cover for boyfriends who hit them.

  I assure him that Lukas is not my boyfriend and that he wasn’t trying to hurt me.

  “If you say so,” he says just like I’d expect from a cop. Maggie’s dad or not, he’s a police officer before he’s anything else and I still don’t trust him. I trust him even less when he starts asking about my dad again and keeps trying to look over my shoulder into my house.

  “He’s not here,” I say, and I know right away that it sounds suspicious. “He works late,” trying to cover but it only comes out sounding more guilty than before.

  “Well, in that case,” he says, putting his hands on his hips, “feel free to give me a call if that kid comes back and gives you a hard time.”

  “He won’t. But I will,” I say. Then I thank him and begin to close the door. He heads back to the car and stops. Hits his forehead like a forgetful old man on television and turns around. Says he nearly forgot, then congratulates me on becoming a cheerleader. Tells me we’re the pride of the town along with the team. I smile and thank him again, though really it doesn’t make me happy to hear it. There’s just something about him that doesn’t feel right. And once he’s gone, I start to wonder about him. Wondering why he happened to be here on my street and why he’s so interested in my dad. Wondering why he’s so interested in me, too, and why he’d bring me up with his daughter the other day. Wondering why he’d be at Diana’s house with a trunk full of FOR SALE signs and why he seems to hate Lukas so much.

  None of it makes much sense.

  I don’t know why, but I know I don’t like him.

  And I know that when my dad calls the next time, I’m going to tell him about it. I’m going to tell him to hurry home.

  TWELVE

  I’m getting stronger. After only three practices, I don’t need to stop except for once or twice to catch my breath. I’m learning the routine, too. Mrs. Donner says I’m picking it up quickly. Tells me she’s glad Maggie made her reconsider me for the squad. She called me ideal and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t mean the world to me to hear it.

  It’s not that cheerleading has all of the sudden become my whole life or anything. It’s just nice to finally be good at something that everybody else thinks is special. It’s nice to be accepted. And I’ve definitely noticed a difference in the way people treat me since I’ve started hanging out with Meredith or Maggie, or even Greg. Not just from the kids in school, either. Even in town. Everyone is much nicer to me now.

  I know it’s exactly the kind of special treatment that would bother me if I saw some other girl getting it just because she was part of the popular crowd, but somehow it’s different when it’s me.

  My dad would make a face at me if I said that to him. He’d get that half-frown, wrinkled-forehead look that he makes when he doesn’t agree with me. He’d tell me not to be a hypocrite in the disappointed tone of voice that used to make me cry when I was little. But he’s not here to say any of those things, so I don’t care what he would think.

  “Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

  I blink myself away from my thoughts and look at Meredith. She hooks her arm around mine so that we’re locked at the elbow as we pass under the fluorescent lights of the abandoned hall. White light that shines down on the speckled pattern of the cheap tile to make it glitter like golden bricks. To tell the truth, it sort of feels that way, too. The last few days have felt like a different world. A better one.

  “Sorry,” I say with a laugh to shake off my daydreaming. “I’m listening now.”

  Meredith smirks and narrows her eyes at me. She’s getting used to me drifting off. “I asked you how you like being one of us . . . you know, being cooler than the rest of the dorks,” she says.

  “I guess I like it,” I say. Slowly as if I’m still thinking about it even though I made up my mind three days ago. Then I laugh so that she knows the “I guess” part of my answer was a complete lie.

  “No one’s giving you a problem, right?”

  I shake my head. Tell her even the teachers are being nice to me and Meredith tells me that’s part of the deal. That’s part of why everyone wants to be like them.

  “How long have you been on the squad?” I ask.

  “Forever,” she says in an exaggerated tone. “I can’t even remember what I was like before.”

  I grin. I sort of wish I could forget a lot of what happened before.

  “Come on, let’s go,” Meredith says. The rest of the girls are already at the diner waiting for us. Greg’s staying a little longer today along with the whole football team. He told me it was their day to lift weights. I couldn’t imagine having the energy to do that after a practice but I guess that’s what makes them the best.

  Meredith unhooks her arm from mine. She catches me looking over at the door to the boys’ locker room. “Thinking about lover boy?” she jokes.

  “Maybe a little,” I confess. It sounds better than the truth. Better than telling her I haven’t really stopped thinking about him since he kissed me two nights ago. But Meredith can tell that anyway. No matter what words actually come out of my mouth, my smile gives me away.

  We both start laughing as we push the doors open and walk into the soft colors of twilight shining off the cars in the parking lot like a string of holiday lights. As the wind rushes up on us, Meredith tells me for the tenth time today how perfect Greg and I are for each other. If I didn’t sort of believe it myself, I’d start to think it was some kind of arranged marriage the way our friends keep pushing us together. But if it is, I guess I’m grateful. I’ve never had a boy who’s so perfect be so crazy about me before.

  “Is he coming by the diner later with the other guys?” Meredit
h asks.

  I shake my head.

  Meredith’s eyes light up in surprise because that’s the way it’s supposed to work. The boys come by once they’re through with being gym rats. Those are the rules but Greg and I decided to break them just a little.

  “No,” I tell her, “I’m going over to his house when he’s done.”

  I bite my lip to keep from showing how nervous and excited I am. Looking over at Meredith out of the corner of my eyes and letting the wind keep my hair in my face so she doesn’t see. But I can see her face. A blue spark of electricity in her eyes. A hungry smile that shows her teeth. And maybe it’s just the way the evening sun mixes with the neon glow of the diner’s sign, but something dangerous flashes across her face. Then it fades as soon as it came. So quick, like something I wasn’t supposed to see, and I can feel my stomach drop the way it does when getting on a scary ride. The panic feeling I get whenever I want to change my mind about going through with something. Because all of the sudden I’m not sure going to Greg’s house is a fun idea.

  But that’s crazy.

  I know it’s crazy.

  I brush aside the hair hanging in front of my eyes and turn to face her. Everything’s normal. Her smile is as friendly as it always is and I know I just caught her in one of those in-between faces. Same as it always is when I’m nervous.

  “Oh, look, they already got the good table,” Meredith says when we get inside the door and see the rest of the girls sitting in the back corner at the big circular booth. They wave to us as we head toward them, moving around to make space for us to sit down.

  I look over at the clock hanging behind the counter.

  One hour and fifteen minutes until I’m supposed to be at Greg’s.