Alice in Zombieland

I’d take that as a big fat no. “So where are you taking me?” Whatever his answer, I wouldn’t be scared. Not even if he said “slaughterhouse” or the far worse “karaoke bar.” (I was a terrible singer.) We were going to talk!

He cranked the radio, Since October suddenly pounding from the speakers, and peeled out, smoke rising from the tires and wafting inside the open vehicle. O-kay. Message received. He wanted to play the quiet game first. Prepare to lose, Cole Holland!

As wind whipped through my hair, I studied his profile. There was a slight bump in the center of his nose, as if he’d broken it more than once. The split in his lip had healed a little, and the bruise on his jaw had faded. His chin jutted stubbornly, and I felt sorry for everyone who ever challenged him.

About ten minutes into the drive, the mountains and trees whizzing by, he shut down the music and tossed me a quick glance. “What?”

See? I’d won. “Just looking.”

He popped his jaw. “That boy. Justin.”

When he said no more, I prompted, “What about him?”

“Are you dating him?”

The lunacy! Justin had asked the same thing about Cole. Throw in the reaction I’d gotten from Kat, Reeve, Poppy and Wren regarding my association with both Cole and Justin, and one thing became crystal clear: speaking to a guy at Asher High was the equivalent of picking out wedding bands.

“No, I’m not. Why do you care, anyway?” I heard the neediness in my tone, and cringed. Basically, in guy code, I’d just said something along the lines of, Please tell me how much YOU want to date me. Please. I’m begging you.

Thankfully, he ignored that and asked, “How’d you get home yesterday?”

“I walked.”

He threw me a look that was all kinds of dirty. “Don’t ever do that again, do you hear me? Those woods are dangerous.”

For a moment, all I could do was sputter. “First, you sound like my grandfather. Second, I think it’s absolutely adorable that you believe you can boss me around.” Forget feeling sorry for anyone who dared challenge him. He needed challenging! “Third, how do you know I went through the woods? For all you know, I live behind the school.”

“You don’t.” Confidence practically shot out of him like an arrow.

I had to ask, couldn’t stop myself. “Were you in my backyard last night?” There. Better to get the hard truth so that I could get over myself than to chicken out and obsess about the answer.

A beat of silence. Then, “Yes.”

Wait. What? “Why?”

He cranked the music back up. I considered turning it down myself, but in the end, I acted like Miss Manners, as my mother would have wanted, and kept my hands to myself. This was his car. He could do whatever he wanted. Outside the car, however…

A while later, he pulled into the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour grocery. A handful of other vehicles were there, and people were straggling in and out of the store. Cole removed the key from the ignition, cutting off the music for good.

He thought for a moment, then said, “I’m giving you my phone number.” He faced the front windshield with such a dark expression, I suspected that whatever had snagged his attention was gonna get murdered. “If you ever need a ride home from school, call or text me, and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

Uh, what was that? Surely the bad boy of Asher wasn’t offering to chauffeur me. Me. The weird girl with the staring problem.

“Okay?” he insisted. “Got it?”

He was. He really was. “I had a ride,” I explained. “I simply chose not to take it.”

That dark expression leveled on me, eliciting a shudder. “First, that’s all you have to say to me?”

“Well, yeah.” What had he expected? That’s the sweetest gesture in the whole wide world, and right now I feel like I’m dancing across the stars? There was no way those words would ever leave my mouth. The fact that I was thinking them was enough to send me into a major shame spiral.

“Second, why didn’t you take it?”

“I wanted to walk,” I said, giving him the same partial truth I’d given my grandparents.

“You’d better not want to walk again.”

“Or what?” I asked. I wasn’t meaning to be facetious. I honestly wanted to know.

He was total animal—make that, manimal—as he snarled, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most frustrating person they’ve ever met, or have most of the people in your life been too polite?”

“Hey—”

He rattled off his phone number, and I had to scramble to keep up and program it into my phone. “Now give me your number.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. What kind of bizarre world had I entered? “But Cole, I can’t ever give you a ride. I don’t have a car, so there’s no—”

“Are you trying to tick me off? Give me your number.”

I was torn between feeling delighted by his insistence—and peeved. Peeved won. “Ask nicely,” I said, a day I’d spent with my mom suddenly slithering into my mind.

You’re so not getting a Mother of the Year Award, Mom. You have yet to bake my favorite chocolate cake.

I’ve just been waiting for you to ask nicely, darling.

A wave of homesickness hit me.

“Nicely,” Cole gritted out.

“Well, how can I resist that?” I grumbled, tempted to give him a bogus number just to prove a point. But then he wouldn’t be able to call me, and, well, I really wanted him to call me—though I had no idea what we’d talk about.

“Still waiting,” he prompted.

I rattled off the numbers.

“Thank you,” he said, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a note of relief in his voice.

I had to be mistaken. Either that, or those violet eyes had reduced the points in my IQ.

“Stay put,” he said, and got out of the car. He walked around, and…helped me out. Wow. I never would have guessed he would exhibit the classic signs of etiquette. “Tell me you aren’t going to be this difficult for the rest of the day.”

“I guess we’ll find out together,” I said. His skin was warm against mine, his palm calloused and rough. I liked that, even shivered.

“Cold?” He pressed me up against the side of the Jeep, his arms caging me in.

“No. I mean yes. I mean maybe. I don’t know!” Was he going to kiss me? For real? Here, now, in front of strangers? I’d stop him. Right? (Before and not after.)

“I don’t think you’re cold,” he rasped, “I think you’re scared. You’re right to be scared.”

I gulped. “I’m not scared.”

“Let’s see what I can do to change that, shall we? We’re going on a little adventure, you and I. When I give an order, you’ll obey it. There will be no asking politely, no matter how much you bat your lashes at me.”

I opened my mouth to protest. I’d never batted my lashes at anyone!

He shook his head, silencing me. “It’s for your safety.”

Again I opened my mouth to protest.

Again he shook his head. “That’s the deal. Agree or I’ll take you back to school right now, and none of your questions will be answered.”

Peeved all over again, I ran my tongue over my teeth. He was underhanded, sneaky and manipulative, that was for sure. Too bad I still liked him. “What questions do you think I have?”

“Probably the same ones I have.”

No way. Not possible. “Fine, I’ll follow your orders.” Anything for answers. “Just as long as you realize that