You Are So Undead to Me (22 page)

Read You Are So Undead to Me Online

Authors: Stacey Jay

Tags: #Romance Speculative Fiction

BOOK: You Are So Undead to Me
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“What about me?” I asked, hope making me suck in a breath and hold it.
 
“I don’t know. Kyle said he couldn’t hear.”
 
My breath whooshed out. “Oh. Well, I—”
 
“But he said Monica got in her car and left just a few minutes ago,” Jess said, like this was the best news she’d heard all year. Maybe it was just my lack of sleep, but I didn’t get what she was so jazzed about.
 
“So?”
 
“So! Ethan was still there, hanging out with London and some other people.” Jess sighed, clearly frustrated by my lack of imagination. “If your parents were still awake, I was going to tell you to make them drive you out there and talk to him, see if you guys could make up so we can still go to the dance together. They’re having the bonfire down the road from the old Carlisle farm and that’s only like five minutes from your house.”
 
A five-minute drive, but at least a fifteen-minute bike ride at top speed. Still, it was only nine thirty. My school-night curfew was usually ten, sometimes ten thirty or eleven on special occasions. I could be there by nine forty-five, talk to Ethan, and then be back by—
 
“No, I can’t,” I said, mentally shaking some sense into myself. “My parents are asleep and I would feel awful waking them to ask for a ride.”
 
And my bodyguard would never let me out of the house to go make a visit to the small-town Protocol officer he’d replaced. I could tell already that Barker thought he was way too cool for Arkansas. He’d flown in from Missouri this morning to help the Elders deal with their problem child since Arkansas didn’t have any full-time Enforcement people working in the state. Our population was too small to warrant such a presence—until my special situation. Wasn’t I soooo lucky?
 
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I mean, you can always talk to him tomorrow . . . though by then he and Monica might have made up,” Jess said, sounding bummed. “But so what, right? I mean, he’s a jerk for dumping you to go with her in the first place and—”
 
“Well, he didn’t exactly dump me,” I blurted out before I could talk myself out of it. I needed to tell Jess at least part of the truth or I was going to bust something. “Monica was the one who told me about the change of plans.”
 
“What! Are you nuts, Megan? Why would you ever believe something that—”
 
“Ethan didn’t call me to say it wasn’t true! And I saw him earlier and he totally ignored me. So I figured Monica was being straight with me for once.”
 
“No way—there must be some other explanation. You’ve got to go to him!” She sounded like a character from some sweeping epic set on the prairie.
 
“You’ve started reading romance novels again, haven’t you?”
 
“I never stopped reading them—I just told you I did so you’d quit making fun of me.” She laughed and I laughed with her, even as a rush of adrenaline dumped into my bloodstream.
 
I couldn’t really sneak out of the house and crash the senior homecoming bonfire. Could I? But how could I
not
when my entire romantic future could be at stake? What if Monica had told Ethan some sort of lie too? Maybe that was why he hadn’t talked to me all day. That had to be it!
 
“Okay, I’m going to go,” I said, tiptoeing to the garage door before I could chicken out. A peek outside revealed the garage door was still open, so no one would hear me when I fetched my bike and hit the road. I threw on my jacket and searched my backpack for my phone. “But I’m taking my cell, so you have to promise to call Kyle and let him know I’m coming so he can call you if it looks like Ethan is going to leave before I get there. Then you can text me so—”
 
“No way—I’ll call Kyle and make sure he keeps Ethan there for at least five more minutes.”
 
“Fifteen more minutes. I’m not going to ask for a ride. I figure I can bike there almost as fast,” I said, stepping out into the garage.
 
“Perfect!”
 
“Okay, so I’m going, in my dance clothes because I don’t have time to change, but—”
 
“That’s fine; you look hot in those black dance pants. Just be careful, okay?” Jess sounded a little worried now that she’d convinced me to go. “It’s really dark on that road by the Carlisle farm, and you know the old man who lives there likes to shoot at people sometimes.”
 
“I’ll be prepared to duck bullets.”
 
“And pull over if a car is coming so you don’t get run over. I know a lot of the seniors are drinking tonight, so—”
 
“Don’t worry,” I said, getting a brainstorm. “I’ll take Clint Street and then cut through Perkins Park to get to the other side of Carlisle’s place. It’ll be faster anyway.”
 
“But what if there’s some creepy homeless person—”
 
“We live in Carol, Arkansas, Jess. When was the last time you saw any homeless person, let alone a creepy one?” I laughed, and I could hear her giggle softly on her end of the line. “Okay, I’ve got to get off the phone now. Remember, call the cell if you need to give me an update.”
 
“Will do. Go get your man, Megan Berry!”
 
“Right, okay, bye,” I said, grinning like an idiot even though Ethan was hardly “my man.”
 
At least, he wasn’t yet.
 
 
God, but it was creepy riding my bike through the blackness at the end of Clint Street. The dense trees on either side of the road made it so dark I was forced to turn on my little bike headlight, which in turn made me certain I was going to get shot any second, even though the road was a good half mile behind the farmhouse where Nathaniel Carlisle lived.
 
Or where we all assumed he still lived. No one had seen or heard from the old man for years—except for the occasional shotgun blast—and the house was completely surrounded by rusted old cars from the ’50s and ’60s. Rumor had it that Carlisle didn’t even have electricity, that he used candles for light and an old woodstove for heat because he hated other people so very, very much.
 
So very much he was willing to risk murdering them by
shooting
at them. My heart raced at the thought, and I pumped even faster.
 
A few minutes later, after riding so hard I felt like my lungs were going to burst out of my chest and then running my bike through the darkened park—which was kind of spooky even without the homeless people Jess was worried about—I realized the very large flaw in my and Jess’s plan. Not only could Ethan have decided to leave before I got to the bonfire, Monica could have decided to
come back
.
 
“No. Way.” I stopped dead at the edge of the crowd of seniors huddled close to the roaring flames, my heart crawling up into my throat and trying to puke itself out onto the leaves beneath my feet.
 
Monica was back and snuggled up very close to Ethan.
My
Ethan, who didn’t look like he was upset with her. At. All. He didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the fact that Monica’s arm was moving around his waist, or that her hand was sliding up the inside of his sweater, or that her mouth was whispering something into his ear. In fact, he was so non-bothered by all of it that he turned to look down at her, giving her the perfect opportunity to move her mouth to his.
 
Unholy lip lock, Batman—and then they were kissing. Right in front of me. The night after Ethan had kissed me like my mouth contained the last breath of oxygen left in the world.
 
Monica finally pulled away and snuggled her cheek into Ethan’s arm, a movement that turned her eyes straight toward me. Our eyes connected, but she didn’t look the slightest bit shocked to see me. Instead, her victorious expression made it seem like she’d known I was there all along.
 
I turned around fast, gulping in air as I rolled my bike back toward the park, tears already blurring my vision. A few of the seniors I passed shot me strange looks—including London and Beth, who actually looked kind of sorry for me—but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop or talk to anyone or I was going to embarrass myself by sobbing over Ethan in public. I had to get away—far away.
 
I pushed my bike across the uneven ground a little faster and within a few minutes had left the glow of the bonfire behind. That was when I started to lose it so badly I actually had to quit walking.
 
I couldn’t believe I’d been such a fool, to think Ethan would want to
talk
to me tonight, let alone tell me I was the one he really wanted. He was obviously very happy to be glued to Monica Parsons’ skanky size-two body, and that was fine with me.
 
I hoped the two of them would be very freaking happy together.
 
The tears really started pouring now that I was out of hearing range. I didn’t want Ethan to be with anyone else. I wanted him to be with me because I wasn’t just crushing on him hard-core—I
really
liked him. More than liked him.
Way
more than liked him. Maybe even—
 
No. I was
not
going to think about that. I sucked in a breath and swiped at my nose, which was running again.
 
It always ran when I cried. Maybe that was why Ethan had decided he didn’t like me. He’d gotten home and seen the snot on his sweatshirt from when I’d blubbered all over him last night and realized Monica was the better option. The prettier, tinier, less snotty option.
 
Hopefully Barker would be in bed by the time I got home so he wouldn’t see what a mess I was. Or catch me sneaking back in. I was out of the house without permission, probably something that could get me in a lot of trouble if I were caught.
 
Which meant I should get moving.
 
“Gaaannnnnh.” The sound came from the trees in front of me, but it was too dark to see anything clearly. All I got was the vague impression of something thicker and blacker than the rest of the night, with glowing red eyes, rushing at me before I was knocked to the ground.
 
I tried to scream but couldn’t draw a breath. The thing on top of me was too heavy, easily the biggest zombie I’d ever seen. Or felt. I actually still couldn’t
see
it, but I could feel its hands closing around my neck, smell the stink of its rotted flesh as it leaned toward my face, and hear the unmistakable groan of a Reanimated Corpse hungry for its first taste of the living.
 
“Reverto!”
I forced the word out, spitting it into the face of the zombie who was doing a pretty excellent job of crushing my windpipe.
 
“Gunh,” it groaned as it rolled off of me and crashed away through the park.
 
I flopped over in the leaves, gasping for breath, little pinpricks of light dancing across my vision. On my hands and knees, I crawled forward, feeling for my bike in the near complete blackness, my heart beating a million miles a minute. I had to get up, had to get back to the bonfire and tell Ethan and Monica what had—
 
Unless this was Monica’s work.
 
“Gunh!”
 
“Gahhhnnn, gunh.”
 
“Oh no,” I whispered, jumping to my feet so fast the world spun. There were more of them, somewhere out there in the darkness.
 
Bike forgotten, I stumbled backward until my back hit a tree, then stood absolutely still, holding my breath and doing my best not to make a sound, straining to determine exactly where the groans were coming from. I knew I had to run, but it wouldn’t do any good if I ran straight into the path of one of the RCs. No matter how much the terrified part of me wanted to haul ass, I had to be smarter than that. I’d barely squeezed out the
reverto
command last time and—
 
The
reverto
command! Would it work if I couldn’t see where I was aiming the spell? It seemed logical to assume it would . . . except it obviously hadn’t banished the rest of the corpses when I’d dispatched the first one.

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