Alice in Zombieland

like that. Cole stepped away from me and had me repeat the sequence again and again, until I could do it with my eyes closed.

“What are the rules of battle?” he asked me while I worked.

For the most part, his rules meshed with my dad’s. When there was a discrepancy, I always sided with Cole. He had more experience. “Never stand still.”

“And?”

“If my dagger lodges inside a zombie’s body, let it go. Don’t try to jerk it out. That will leave me exposed and cost me precious seconds that I can’t afford to spare.”

“And?”

“If I lose all my weapons before disabling the majority of the zombies, I shouldn’t try to do any frying because I won’t be able to get my hands on them for long enough to do any good. I should run and hide.”

“Not should. Will.”

Finally the dummy was removed and I was allowed to swing my sword freely. The metal whistled menacingly. I was learning how to twirl my wrist, and thereby the sword, in a swift motion that would prevent anyone from tracking—and blocking—its descent.

When Cole was satisfied with that, and I was aching from overworking previously overworked muscles, we moved to the firing range. He selected a .22 pistol and several clips. I’d already learned how to take the thing apart, put it back together and load the magazine. In the dark.

Apparently, this kind of gun wouldn’t do much damage to a zombie, and definitely wouldn’t stop one, but it was perfect for beginners because of the low recoil.

With plugs in my ears, I aimed at the paper target and squeezed at the trigger until I ran out of ammo. I set the safety on, and placed the gun on the counter in front of me, then removed the plugs.

“Better,” Cole said. “You would have nicked his arm and hip this time, rather than the air around him.”

I scowled at him. “I’m doing the best I can.”

Before he could reply, my phone vibrated in my pocket. “Hang on,” I said, going for it. I checked the screen. Nana. She’d learned how to text, though she refused to abbreviate anything.

I want you home for dinner.

I replied with a quick: OK.

NOW.

A sigh left me. “I’ve gotta go home.” I bet another teacher had called her and complained about my behavior.

“All right. In a minute.” Cole pulled me against him and settled his chin on the top of my head. I really liked how tall he was. He made me feel small in comparison. “Do you know me well enough yet? Do you trust me?”

“I—I—” Was completely caught off guard, despite the hint he might or might not have dropped a while ago. Whatever happens with you… “I’m just a wee bit confused,” I admitted. “Why are you asking?”

“We told each other we’d get to know each other before we got serious.”

My jaw dropped. “So that’s what we’ve been doing lately?”

He leaned back, his eyes slitted, and focused on a single target. Me. “You mean you haven’t?”

“Uh, well, uh, hmm.” He still wanted to date me? Had always wanted to date me? “What about what you said to Mackenzie? Not today, but before.”

“I didn’t think we were any of her business. And I can see restraint won’t work with you,” he said drily. He stroked his fingers up and down the ridges of my spine. “So let me help you out. My favorite color is—hell, I don’t know. I’ve never cared enough to think about it. My favorite movie is—what else— Zombieland. But not because the good guys win in the end, though that’s a plus, but because Emma Stone is hot.”

I snorted. He was such a guy.

“My favorite band is—”

“Let me guess,” I interjected. “White Zombie? Slayer?”

“Red. And no, not just because I want zombies to bleed. But what about you? Who do you like? Because honestly, I’m surprised you know White Z and Slayer.”

“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.”