The Queen Of Zombie Hearts. Gena Showalter
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Me: Prepare to have UR mind blown!
Me: I MEAN CHANGED. CHANGED.
Cole: Hahaha. I prefer blown. & right back at ya, babe.
I stored my phone away.
“You’re practically glowing with happiness.” Mackenzie pretended to gag. “Tell me you’re still capable of killing zombies and that you’re not considering spraying them with rainbow dust.”
As if I’d waste rainbow dust on zombies. “Don’t you worry about me, love bug. You want to know why there’s no sign of life on Mars? Because I’ve been there.”
She tried to hide her grin. “If you tell me Death once had a near–Ali Bell experience, I think I’ll risk a little pirate role-playing and just go ahead and stab your eye.”
“Why would you want to eye-gouge the girl who’s counted to infinity—twice? The girl who can win a game of Connect Four in only three moves? The girl who can start a fire by rubbing two ice cubes together?”
“Definitely going to eye-gouge you,” she muttered.
I laughed. “All’s I’m saying is that I’m ready for tonight...no matter what happens.”
BY THE SKIN AND THE TEETH
It was 3:04 a.m., and, as expected, there was no sign of zombies. I was now off duty, but not expected home until 7:00 a.m.
Life couldn’t get any more perfect.
Oh, wait. It could. Mackenzie and Bronx lived with Cole and his dad, Mr. Tyler Holland, and they’d decided to spend the rest of the night at the gym. I hadn’t said a word about my plans with Cole, but my ear-to-ear smile might have given me away.
Gavin offered to take me home. Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger side of his car for me.
“I’ve got people to do and things to see.” He motioned me inside. “Hop to, cupcake.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
He meant that with every fiber of his being. Shouldn’t laugh. I adored the guy, but I wasn’t blind to all of his faults.
One of my faults: I found every one of his charming.
He settled behind the wheel and gunned the engine, the ice on the window melting. He eased onto the road and said, “So, when do you get your license?”
“Next week.” There’d been a time I’d wanted to vomit blood at even the thought of controlling the metal death trap known as car, but battling an evil zombie-twin version of myself—don’t ask—kind of put things in perspective. “Why? Are you tired of chauffeuring me around?”
“Nope. Just want to make sure I move to another state in time. You’re a tragic accident waiting to happen.” He cursed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to go there.”
“Don’t worry about it. We both know I make the geriatric crowd look like NASCAR champions.” I had a love/hate relationship with speed. I loved slow and hated fast.
“Exactly my point,” Gavin said. “There’s such a thing as road rage, and I has it.”
“You has a whole lot of other things, too,” I muttered.
“True, and they’re all awesome.”
I rolled my eyes. “By the way, you’re not taking me home. You’re taking me to Cole’s.” At least, I hoped. I texted him, praying he hadn’t fallen asleep.
No Z’s, I typed. U ready 4 me?
His reply came within seconds. Ready? Ali-gator, U have no idea. Hope UR in the mood 2 play Hungry Zombie & Helpless Human, because I want a nibble. How soon can U get here?
Me, my heart fluttering with excitement: 10 minutes.
Cole: Make it 5.
Me, my heart fluttering a thousand times faster: Done!
Cole: Bro and Mac w/U?
Me: Nope. They love us enough 2 give us nite 2 ourselves.
Cole: Perfect. I’ll turn off alarm & unlock my window.
Gavin winked at me. “So tonight’s the night, huh? Finally gonna get that cherry popped.”
No way. There was just no way he’d gone there. “You are such a pig.”
“Pigs are cute.”
“And filthy.”
“The perfect combination.”
It was impossible to insult someone who never took offense. “Look, I’m not going to discuss my sex life—or lack of one—with you, of all people.”
Undeterred, he said, “Unless you break your neck on the way in, you’re diving into that boy’s bed the second you get there, and we both know it.”
Good glory. He and Nana were a tag team, and I wasn’t sure which one had the better right cross.
“So...you want any tips for taking things from ordinary to extraordinary?” he asked. “I’m something of a sex-pert.”
“Actually, you’re something of a slut-pert.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That’s not even a word.”
I couldn’t judo-chop his airway. He would lose control of the car and crash. “Why don’t I just cut off my ears and give them to you?” I muttered to myself. “It would hurt less than this conversation.”
“Fine. Be that way. Fumble around in the dark. See if I care.”
“You totally shouldn’t care!”
“Well, I do. You’re my cupcake. I happen to think you deserve to be frosted just—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence or I swear I’ll start a douche-bag jar and make you put a fiver in it.”
He grinned at me. “It’d be a douche-purse jar, and you know it.”
Never going to live that down. Nana and her “teen-speak” would haunt me for the rest of my life. “Why don’t you tell me all about your first time, hmm? Was it special? Did you cover your bed in rose petals?”
“It was the most specialest,” he answered, deadpan. “And yes.”
I rolled my eyes again. I rarely left his presence without giving him five good ones. “Whatever. This subject is closed, Barbie, so you can shut it now or lose your tongue.”
He didn’t