Alice in Zombieland

“The wicked witch?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Please. The princess.”

Uh, had he just given me a compliment? Couldn’t have. There’d been something sharp in his tone.

I noticed two kids standing off to the side, wanting into the classroom but not wanting to squeeze between Cole and me to get there. I wrapped my fingers around Cole’s wrist and lowered his arm. The kids bypassed us, but I didn’t return to my place. I was flush against Cole, could feel his heart pounding and couldn’t bring myself to move.

“Yes, I have been in a fight,” I said, recalling what he’d asked me. With my dad, during training.

Cole’s head tilted to the side, that violet gaze intense. “A fistfight?” he asked.

Uh-oh. I’d noticed his eyes. I was well and truly trapped now. So pretty. “Is there any other kind?”

“Many kinds. So who’d you fight?”

“No one you’d know,” I said, mimicking his answer. If I told him the truth, he’d think my dad had let me win or worse, that I was a major witch for fighting my own father. And I’d have no defense!

The quirking at the corner of his mouth started up again. I amused him, I guess, and had no idea why. Well, he confused me. Why warn me about his ex’s cruel streak? Why try to comfort me? Why do nothing else?

I studied his face, searching for answers, finding none.

“Ali?”

“Yes.” My attention lowered to his mouth. Up close like this, the split in his lower lip revealed a fresh bead of blood. I bet he could have taken my dad and still had the energy to turn the two visions I’d had into a reality.

“I asked if your last name is Bell.”

This newest topic switch threw me, but I quickly adapted without dying of embarrassment for losing myself to such silly thoughts. “Yes. Bell. Why?”

“Your dad was Phillip Bell. Your mom was Miranda Bradley.”

Was, he’d said. Not is. He knew. I swallowed my sudden urge to scream, gritting out, “You’re right, but how did you know that?” I’d never even mentioned their names to Kat.

“My dad went to school with them.”

Someone else had known them, might mourn their loss. How odd to discover that the people I’d lived with for most of my existence had had a life before me, without me. On some level, I’d realized that, of course I had, but hearing the truth was a different matter entirely. “Your dad went to school here?”

A hard nod.

I had about a thousand more questions now. Had our parents hung out together? Been friends? Enemies? Had his dad said anything about mine? How had his dad known about me—had Cole mentioned me to him? I didn’t ask a single one, though. Asking would have invited him to ask questions of his own, and I wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened over the summer.

“My dad wants to know—”

“Thanks for the heads-up about your girlfriend,” I interjected in a rush, making it clear our parents weren’t up for discussion. I wasn’t sure of my reaction, and I wasn’t going to risk it. “We should probably say goodbye now.”

A knowing pause before he gave another stiff nod. “Fine. But just so you know, Mackenzie isn’t my girlfriend.”

He didn’t say anything else, and I had no idea how to reply, so I strode into the classroom. Gold star for me —I didn’t cast a final glance over my shoulder. I think he watched me, though, because I felt two white-hot pings in my back.

* * *

I made it all the way to last block without any problems and forced myself to listen to the final lecture of the day, this one about equations and how to properly decipher them with minimal brain spasms—without allowing thoughts of Cole Holland to invade. Go me. Finally, blessedly, the bell rang—and I was quite sad to realize I wasn’t any smarter.

Kat, who’d saved me a seat and wiggled her eyebrows at me every time I’d glanced in her direction, grabbed me before I could escape and demanded to know every word that had been uttered between Cole and me.

The self-imposed CH embargo was over, I guess, and I was kinda glad. I needed advice. I relayed the conversation verbatim and her excitement drained.

“Okay, I don’t know how they judge cool versus lame at Carver Suck It Academy—oh, and did I mention that we kicked your butt last year in both football and basketball?—but here at Asher we consider that seriously lame.”

I wasn’t offended. I liked her honesty. “What should I have said?”

She batted her lashes at me and lowered her voice to a smoky rasp. “Cole, you big strong manimal. I know the boogeyman thinks you’ll jump out of his closet, but I think you’re— Hey, are you listening to our private conversation, Marcus?” she ended in a shout. “Yeah, that’s right. Run.”

I could only blink at her. Never, and I mean never, could I call Cole a manimal.

“Where was I?” Kat asked me. “Never mind. Judging by your expression, you’re not ready for flirting lessons. I’ll just stick with giving you a pick-me-up. Come on. Let’s go to Café Bella and drink so many lattes we’re peeing coffee for a week.”

Suddenly I heard angels singing. “I would seriously love that.”

She smiled. “I always have the best ideas, don’t I?”

Outside, a gray film covered the sky. Thick dark clouds looked ready to burst at any moment…except for one. It was white and fluffy, perfect in every way—and shaped like a rabbit in midhop.

Ice chips crystallized in my veins, and I skidded to a stop. The last time I’d seen a cloud like that, I’d lost everyone and everything I loved.

Logically I knew a cloud did not determine my future, or even predict it, but…

The world was suddenly spinning, spinning, round and round. Car after car zoomed beside me, the parking lot writhing and seething with blurry motions and hazy sounds. Someone honked. Someone grumbled. I couldn’t force myself to move. Could only stare in horror.

“Ali?”

Kat’s voice sounded far away, as if she stood at the end of a long, narrow tunnel. Would I cause Kat to wreck her car today? Would she die in front of me? Would I walk away without a scratch?

Finally, motion on my part. I backed away from her.

“Ali?” she said again.

I jerked my gaze in her direction. Her frown of concern nearly leveled me. “I can’t,” I said, shaking my head. “I just can’t. I’m sorry.” Fog filled my head, making me dizzy. I spun and ran, just ran, arrowing toward the building.

I heard her calling for me, knew she was chasing after me. A back door blew open and closed in the wind. I shot through on its next opening and sprinted down the hall. I didn’t see Dr. Wright but I heard her shout for me. I ignored her, too, and found a bathroom (for boys) where I shut myself inside one of the stalls. Panting, I sat on the lid of the toilet, drew my knees up to my chest and fought the sting of tears in the back of my eyes.

Minutes, maybe hours, passed but neither Kat nor Dr. Wright ever found me.

What should I do? What should I freaking do? I’d already missed my bus, and I refused to call Nana to ask her to pick me up. I just…I couldn’t get in a car today. With anyone. If someone died because of me, I would never be able to shake the guilt.

You realize you’re being irrational, right?

Yeah, I did. But did that help me? No.

My house was only a few miles away. I could walk, I decided. Yeah, that was the perfect solution. No cars would be involved, and I’d get some much-needed exercise. Finally I calmed.

The storm would break at any moment, and I’d probably be soaked to the bone by the time I got home, but