Alice in Zombieland - Showalter Gena - Страница 67

“I like Red, too, but I’m partial to Skillet. Used to listen to them with my sister. But why wouldn’t I know the other bands?”

“You look so angelic.”

“And do you think angels are hot?” I asked primly, trying to play it cool so that I wouldn’t reveal what a mess I was on the inside. All this time, he’d wanted to get to know me and date me. What craziness!

“The hottest.”

Now I laughed, another real one that shook my entire body. Amusement was coming more easily these days. Which was kind of odd. I should have been more somber than ever. There was so much going on, so much to lose…so much to fear.

“In that case,” I said, “yes, I am beginning to trust your judgment. But…has anything happened with Mackenzie since your breakup?” I had to know.

“No. We’re better as friends, and I think she’s coming to realize that.”

“We’re friends,” I reminded him.

His hold tightened. “I don’t want to be your friend, Ali. I want to be more.” His fingers snuck under my T-shirt, so that we were skin-to-skin. “Leave your window unlocked tonight. I’m coming over to prove it.”

For a moment, I couldn’t catch my breath. “Prove it by continuing my lessons?” I managed to wheeze out. I knew what he wanted to do, I admit it, but I was beyond nervous and utterly unsure about how to respond.

He kissed my temple. “Exactly. Just not what I was teaching you in the ring.”

How a day so ripe with promise could end so craptastically, I’ll never know.

Cole’s dad called him away, so Trina offered to drive me home. There wasn’t a rabbit cloud in the sky, which was a small mercy, but my grandparents were waiting on the porch, rocking on the swing, which was not. I entered the coolness of the day and shooed Trina off before they could approach and ask her questions about herself.

The moment they spotted me, they stood and stalked into the house. I followed, leaving the setting sun—and the chaos that came with it—behind.

“Everything okay?” I asked, gazing longingly at the stairs that led to my bedroom.

“Let’s just sit down and enjoy our dinner, all right?” Nana said. “We’ll talk afterward.”

I chewed on my lower lip. I knew better than to protest. “All right.”

Dinner was meat loaf and mashed potatoes, with as much sweet tea as I could hold. All my working out had caused me to develop a major appetite, and despite the tension in the air, I sucked in the food as if I was a Hoover set on High.

As soon as I finished and said, “That was delicious, thank you,” the explosion happened.

“Are you doing drugs?” Nana demanded, her half-eaten meal forgotten.

Shock had me slinking down in my chair. “No! Of course not.”

Pops donned his sternest expression. “We want to believe you, we do, but I checked and you’re exhibiting all the classic signs.”

“What signs?” I asked, but I could guess.

“Another teacher called.” Nana rested her elbows on the tabletop. Normally so proper, I knew her lack of manners now meant she was beyond disconcerted. “You have a D in her class. You slept through her lecture. She also told us that you are hanging around the wrong crowd.”

Aha! This was about Cole. “Have you talked to the principal, Dr. Wright?” On one of my visits to her office, she’d told me she would do what she could to buffer me from trouble.

“Yes,” Nana admitted stiffly.

“And what did she say?”

“That we shouldn’t be worried, that you’re a good kid and so are the kids you’re hanging out with.”

“Well, there you go.”

“But we don’t believe her!” Nana said, beating her fist against the table. “All evidence claims otherwise.”

“Have me tested. I’ll prove I’m not doing drugs of any kind.” Mental note: ask Cole if the zombie antidote registered as a drug.

That mollified them somewhat, and they blustered about my grades for a minute or two more.

“Is someone bullying you at school?” Nana asked gently. “Is that the problem?”

“No. I’m easily distracted, that’s all. I’m still learning to cope.”

“Try again.” Pops motioned to my discolored jaw with a tilt of his chin. “We’ve noticed the bodily injuries, Ali.”

Crap. I had done my best to hide them with clothes, makeup and accessories. “Okay, you want the truth, I’ll give you the truth. I’m learning how to box,” I admitted. Better to give them some of the truth rather than a pack full of lies. “I knew you’d worry when there was no reason to worry, so I decided not to tell you.”

“Boxing?” Nana blinked rapidly in a clear attempt to jump-start her ability to understand. “Whatever for?”

“Self-defense. I want to be able to protect myself from potential attackers.”

They shared a look, and then Pops said, “Who’s teaching you and why is this the first we’ve heard about it?”

“Trina, the girl who dropped me off.” I had boxed with her a few times. “Sometimes Cole,” I added quietly.

Nana’s eyes widened, and her hand fluttered to her throat. “Oh, my. I hate to admit this, but I thought the person who dropped you off was a boy. I was going to demand you stop seeing him. Her. I still am,” she added with a nod. “Obviously this boxing thing is a detriment to your schoolwork, and as much as I respected Cole, he’s out, too.”

“Don’t say that. It isn’t a detriment, I promise you, and neither is he.”

“No. From now on, we want you home after school.”

Panic beat through me. “No.” I shook my head for emphasis. I loved them, but I couldn’t allow them to take this away from me. Training was just as important to my survival as it was to my ultimate goal. A total zombie wipeout.

“Yes.” Pops stared me down with eyes so full of determination I knew he’d met with this kind of resistance before, probably from my mom, and he had learned how to fight dirty. “We’ve tried giving you space to help you adjust. Now we’ll try another way. This way.”

For a moment, all I could hear was the ringing in my ears, then the harsh rasp of my breath joined in, creating a symphony of discordance. Cole had warned me. One day I would have to move out, he’d said. We’d both thought the reason would be my grandparents’ safety, not their own stubbornness.

I was only sixteen years old. Legally I couldn’t move out. Could I? If so, how would I support myself? A few nights ago, I’d heard Nana and Pops talking about money. They’d said Dad had taken out really big life insurance policies on both him and my mom, and they’d been debating how much to give me now, how much to put in a college fund for me and how much to keep for themselves to help pay for my food and clothing. If there was a way I could access my portion now, I’d be okay.

“You can still go shopping with Kat tomorrow,” Nana said. “We don’t want to stop you from living, we just want to create boundaries for you.”

Oh, yeah. Kat and I had planned a big day, just the two of us. I was still excited about it, but now that excitement was tinged with desperation. I needed to talk to Cole, to figure out what to do about this newest development.

Nana reached over and patted my hand. “We don’t want you to feel trapped here, but you have to make some changes, honey. If your mom were here, she would flip her top over your grades.”

“Flip her lid,” I muttered, trying not to rage and hurt their feelings. They meant well, I knew that, but this was too important. I pushed back my chair and stood. “Listen. I’m going to continue my boxing lessons, and you’re going to get on board.” There was power to my words, even in this natural realm. I couldn’t violate their free will, but I could try to change their will. “It’s good for me. I’m alive for the first time in my life.”

“Ali—”

“No. Don’t say anything else.” I didn’t want their confession to undo mine. “I’m going to my room. Just…think about this, okay? I need it more than you know.”

I didn’t wait for their replies. I stomped up the stairs and shut myself in my bedroom. Needing a distraction, I opened the journal to find out if any new passages had morphed into English. To my surprise, one had.