Through the Zombie Glass

I studied him, saw dark circles under his eyes, gaunt cheekbones and lips that had clearly been chewed. He wasn’t fine. “I know you told me nothing abnormal had been happening to you. Is that still the case?”


His brow furrowed, becoming a slash of anger. “Want to tell me what’s been happening to you? Because something has, right?”

I still wasn’t sure what his motives were, but at the moment I had nowhere else to turn. “Possibly.”

“Possibly?”

I sat down. “That’s all I’m willing to say.” For now.

He sat down beside me. “Okay, but I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“Will you actually help me, though?”

His shoulders wilted, and he said, “I guess I deserved that.”

Yeah, but I didn’t have to be so crabby about it, did I? “Do you know someone by the name of Dr. Bendari?”

“No. Why?”

Crap. So...maybe Dr. Bendari wasn’t with Anima, after all. Maybe Justin was lying. Or maybe Justin just hadn’t met him. “Forget it.”

“Ali. Please. Talk to me.”

How many times was I going to hear those words?

The bell rang, saving me from having to reply. “Later,” I said. Maybe.

*

Lunchtime arrived. I’d successfully managed to avoid Justin after first and second period. Trina and Mackenzie, too. But not Cole.

He cornered me in the girls’ bathroom.

I was washing my hands as he stepped inside. A classmate of mine was in the process of closing a stall door when she spied him and squealed.

“Out,” he said, and she took off, leaving me alone with him.

My heart thundered as I dried my hands with a paper towel. “If you plan to yell at me for hurting your girlfriend, let me save you the trouble. My anger got the best of me, but it’s not going to happen again.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“It’s okay if she is. You don’t have to try and spare my feelings. I’ve moved on.”

He did not appear grateful.

I tried to bypass him, deciding to talk to him about Trina and Mackenzie’s allegations later, in a place without mirrors. He stepped into my path. “Stay,” he said.

“Orders?” I glared up at him. “You know I’m not afraid to punch you, right?”

“Do what you want to me. I’m not leaving until you’ve listened to me.”

Sometimes I really hated my curious nature. “What?”

When I backed off, he leaned against the sink, raked his gaze over me and frowned. “You’re wearing a different shirt.”

“Yes,” was all I said, struggling with the sudden need to cover my chest.

“Why?”

Struggling—and failing. I covered my chest with my hands. “Is that why you’re here? Because my reasons don’t concern you.”

His frown deepened. He shook his head, as if to get back on track. “I’m worried about you and want to discuss it like rational people.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Why? You said we could try and be friends.”

Lesson learned: it was better to think before I spoke. “Fine. Discuss away.”

He muttered something under his breath before saying to me, “Ankh told me you’ve been eating bagels at his house.”

Wait. “This isn’t about what happened on patrol? Or Veronica?”

“The bagels,” he insisted.

What was with the freaking bagels? “Yes. I have been eating bagels. Last I heard, that wasn’t a crime.”

“It is when it’s all you’re eating.”

I anchored my hands on my hips. “Why do you even care about this?”

He ignored the question, saying, “You didn’t bring your lunch and you weren’t planning on getting anything in the cafeteria today, were you? I know, because you didn’t get anything last week, either. You’re going to starve.”

He made it sound worse than it was. “I’m saving to buy Nana a house of her own.”

“Then bring food from Ankh’s. He has more than enough.”

“I’m living in his home free of charge. I’m not going to be any more of a burden and take more from him.”

“You’re not a burden.”

“So you say.”

“Ali.”

“No,” I said.

Gena Showalter's books