FanGirl

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Authors: Angel Lawson

BOOK: FanGirl
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By Angel Lawson

Text Copyright © 2012 Anna Benefield

All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publication.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

Lawson, Angel
FanGirl/Angel Lawson-1st ed.
ISBN: 978-1478180296

1. Young Adult-Fiction
2. Zombies-Fiction

Book Cover Samantha Marrs
Illustrations- D. Varnadoe

Chapter 1

“Knock it off, Iris.”

She jumps around the room, making my dresser mirror bang against the wall. She appeared unannounced five minutes ago, her dark braids tied in a cluster at her neck, and hasn’t stopped moving or talking since. I’m still in my pajamas
working on my newest list for our website. I read aloud, “Five Little-Known Survival Supplies Found in Your Home.”

“Guess what?”

“What?” I say, unimpressed by her excitement. It’s all another day in the land of Iris. While she paces around my tiny room, I put away my notebook and give my best friend the undivided attention she’s demanding. “I need you to chill out and tell me what’s going on. Not act like a Stage 2 LD
[1]
. Sit.”
She drops into my desk chair. “I posted the video last night, around midnight, to hit different time zones.”

“Right. I know this.”

“I checked the hits and links and tweets and all that this morning and, eh, nothing special, but…”

“But what? Spit it out!”

Her green eyes flash. “Zocopalypse.com
[2]
picked it up!”

“The website?” I ask, as if there is something else.

“Yes!”

“Holy. Crap.”

“I know, right?” She smiles wide and crazy. “This is huge.”

Iris spins the chair to face the computer. She’s the brains behind all of this. I’m just a fangirl
[3]
. A fangirl that helped make a fan video that has now been seen by…

“How many hits now?” I ask, peering over her shoulder.

“20,459.”

…20,459 people on YouTube. Twenty-thousand people have seen me make a fool of myself for my best friend.

“In 12 hours? You’re kidding?!”

“Some of those are from the blog, but it spread like wildfire on Twitter and Tumblr once Zocopalypse linked it.”

I lean back into my pillow. After a quick sniff of Iris’ feet, my dog, James Brown, jumps on the bed and burrows his small body into my side. We worked so hard on the video, and for it to get such huge results for us and our blog is awesome. “How are the comments?”

Iris smiles. “They love you.”

“Stop it.”

“Girl, I won’t. You are now the face of Alexandra, zombie killer. Everyone wants you to play her in the movie.”

“Whatever,” I say, but inside I’m freaking out. Alexandra
[4]
is the most iconic female graphic novel character ever. She’s fierce and strong and kicks ass. Not just the ass of the Living Dead, but anyone who gets in her way. Including Wyatt.
[5]
She is a hero, a warrior – the savior of the entire remaining human race. There is no way I could ever fill the role of Alex.

Iris glares at me. “They do. That’s the big deal. No one could imagine
Zocopalypse
being made into a movie or TV show in the first place. You just brought it to life. Look,” she turns back to the computer, “Ruby channels Alexandra! Before I watched the video I was opposed to the novels being made into a movie. I’ve changed my mind!”

I sit up and try to see the screen. “Who wrote that?”

“I don’t know. The screen name is zombiemama.”

“Wait,” I lean closer. “There are over a thousand comments!”

“There are tweets also.” Her fingers move across the keyboard and she starts reading.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

QueenAlex

Check out this video @z.net
Zocopalypse
lives!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Wyattsbabe

@z.net did you see? Did you see? DID YOU SEE??? @z.net

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hatchetlover

@z.net Alexandra was amazing! I cried!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Queenwannabee

@z.net What? Try harder.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Zombieprincess

@z.net More! I want to see Alex and Wyatt’s first kiss! Make another!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Zlover

@z.net perfect!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

WyattluvsAlex

RT @z.net check out our fan video from
Zocopalypse
!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Gabrielsinferno

Loving this fan video

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Z.net

Thanks for the support! We love hearing your feedback!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“That’s insane.”

“Dude. That’s what I’m trying to say! Viral. Our video has gone viral faster than that toxic case of food poisoning went through our cabin at camp last summer.” I scrunch my nose. Barf. Not a good memory. Iris is undeterred by thoughts of fever and vomit and the fact I will never eat an enchilada again. Ever. She sits back in the chair gloating a little. I don’t blame her. She deserves it. She made the video and directed it. It is her pride and joy. I just did what she told me to.

“I’m going to watch it again.”

“No!” I jump from the bed and lunge for the computer. Iris has watched the film a few hundred times. Minimum. I have seen it, of course, but watching myself on film is weird. She sees the flaws in her filmmaking. I see the flaws in myself. Like how my nose seems too flat or my ears are too big and how awkward my voice sounds when I speak. I reach for her hand, but she blocks me and clicks the play button. “Tell me when you’re done.” I get up and leave the room. I can’t do it again. Not now.

g

That night, after Iris
leaves and my parents are in bed, I cave. I sit in my hot pink computer chair and plug in my headphones so no one can hear me.

There is no intro to the film, just a shot of the old barn. I try to see it the way a viewer would, through their eyes. A fan. I’m watching Alexandra and her mother fight for their lives. I want to pretend it’s not me play-acting behind my grandfather’s farm outside the city. I try, but it’s not possible. My hair is too long, too red, and I keep noticing how I squint because I’m not wearing my glasses. I push the criticisms aside and try to simply watch. The quiet, eerie intro music starts and the first images are from the inside of an old barn. A camping lamp lights the area. Otherwise the shelter is dark with shadows. It’s nighttime.

“Mom, are you okay?”

“I think I hurt my ankle scaling the fence.”

“Do you need some water?” Alex rummages in a backpack and fishes out a plastic bottle. It’s empty.
“I saw a house when we got here last night. There should be a faucet or a hose I can get to.”

“It’s too dangerous,” says her mother. She’s leaning against the wall of the barn, wearing old, dirty clothes. Her dark hair a mess. Alexandra’s in a T-shirt and jeans. The shirt has a retro-styled pussycat on it.

“We need water, Mom.”

She sighs and brushes back her daughter’s hair. She says, “Your father would have been proud of us.”

Alexandra bites her bottom lip. She picks up the water bottle and a hatchet. She hands her mother a gun and walks to the barn door.

“Back in a minute.”

The camera follows Alexandra crossing a wide, flat yard in the dark. An old blue truck sits in the background and the house is not far away. She fills the water bottle from the hose and quickly runs back to the barn. The barn door is ajar, not like she left it. She drops the bottle of water while fumbling for the hatchet hanging from a loop on her pants. She hears shuffling feet and low groans.

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