Through the Zombie Glass

“Take from me, then.” He withdrew a brown leather wallet with a chain at the end. “Please.”


I violently shook my head. What the heck was happening here? “I don’t want your money.”

“Ali,” he repeated, his tone ragged. “Friends share.”

“We’re not that close anymore.”

He flinched. “You have to eat.”

“I will. I promise.”

“More than bagels,” he insisted.

I nodded, anything to move this conversation along. After school, I’d walk to the convenience store close to the Ankhs’ and buy bread and deli meat.

“Not just later, but now, at lunch,” he said, as if he’d heard my thoughts. “Please.”

Please.

His concern was doing something to me, weaving one of his spells around me, making me forget the world around me, the problems, taking me deeper and deeper into an obsession that had only gotten me hurt. I wanted out. I needed out.

“It’s better that we broke up, you know.” I said the words for my own benefit. “Our connection was so fast, we never took the time to get to know each other. Not really. And how would we ever have known if we truly cared about each other or if the visions had simply convinced us that we did?”

He smacked a hand against the mirror and leaned toward me. Glaring, he snapped, “I knew how I felt.”

Past tense. Why did that hurt? “I know how you felt, too. Not strongly enough to fight for me.”

A muscle ticked below his eye as he straightened, backed me into the black-and-gold-tiled wall. The warmth of his breath fanned over my face, as sure and sweet as a caress. His gaze took in every detail of my expression, lingering on my lips. Lips suddenly aching for the kisses he’d denied me during my recovery.

“We both know why I walked away,” he said. “We both know what’s going to happen.”

“Yes, so what the heck do you think you’re doing, closing in on me like this?” Good. I’d shaken off the melancholy and welcomed a bit of mettle.

“I don’t know,” he snarled, and I was suddenly face-to-face with Cole the Yorkie. “I never know anymore.”

For my own good, I forced myself to say, “That’s your problem, not mine.” Then I angled around him and walked away.

This time, he let me go.

I was getting good at not looking back.

In the cafeteria, I spent three precious dollars on a mediocre hamburger. Cole was at the table by the time I eased beside Kat and Reeve, and he watched me eat half...and try to save the other half for later.

Scowling, he planted himself at my side, scooting Kat out of the way, then unwrapped the burger and put it back in my hand. I suspected he would try to force-feed me if I resisted, so I ate the rest. My stomach nearly wept with gratitude.

He pushed a Gatorade in my direction. His? Half the contents were already gone. I’d forgotten to buy a drink, I realized, and gratefully swallowed one mouthful, then another.

“Thank you,” I said, trying not to care that he cared.

“That’s what friends are for, right? Even if they’re not close.” He put his mouth where mine had been and drained the rest.

*

After school, Kat and I piled into Reeve’s car. The three of us had one class together, and Mr. Toms, the teacher, had allowed us to group up for a special humanitarian project. For it, we drove to Party Palace and bought a handful of Get Well Soon balloons.

“On a totally unrelated subject,” Kat said, “do you guys want to go threezies on a gift for Aubrey Wilson’s baby shower? And by threezies I mean your dad will pay the bulk of it, Reeve. We want to get her something totes amazeballs.”

“She mentioned needing a crib,” I said. Poor girl. She had just started showing, and her boyfriend had dumped her.

Reeve nodded. “Count me in.”

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