Bad Taste in Boys (19 page)

“Did …” I didn’t know how to ask this, so I just plunged right in. “Did Logan kiss you or anything? Like, um, bite you?”

She cocked her head, giving me a considering look. Then she said, “Can we have some privacy, girls?” Before I could ask what she was doing, she reached around me and closed the stall door.

“All right,” she said, “you better tell me what’s going on before I flip out on you. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but that whole injection thing? So not cool.”

“I’m sorry. The injection won’t hurt you; it’s not like a hallucinogen or anything. I thought Logan … I thought he infected you with, um, something.”

“He’s got an STD?” Her eyes widened. I knew I had to correct her, because Logan was a nice guy and I didn’t want to damage his reputation, but I couldn’t decide whether it was worse to be STD Guy or Undead Guy.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “A lot of things can be transmitted by saliva. But what I gave you won’t hurt you. I just … I was worried. There’s a bug going around the team.”

“Well, I guess I don’t blame you, although it would have been nice if you’d asked first.” She hugged me and I was so relieved that I hugged back. “So I heard you’re going to homecoming with
Aaron, right?” She sounded like she was teasing, but I suddenly felt nervous. What if she still liked him? What if I was breaking the friend code? “It’s okay,” she went on. “You’ll be awesome together, and I really mean that. Aaron and I are much better as friends.”

“Oh. Good,” I said, opening the stall door. “Because I wouldn’t want things to be weird, you know?”

And then someone screamed.

could tell the difference between an immature-freshman-type scream and a zombies-are-chasing-me scream, and I immediately knew this was the former. But still? My hand instinctively went to my bag.

“See you in a few,” said Kiki, totally ignoring the ruckus. “I’ve got to finish my makeup.”

I walked into the hallway.
Pffft!
“Pep rallyyyyyyyyyy!” shouted some random idiot, spraying Silly String at my face. He missed, but I was still angry on principle. I bet people wouldn’t do things like that if they knew I was the only thing standing between them and zombiedom. Unfortunately, I couldn’t exactly publicize this unless I felt like starting a mass panic. Which I didn’t.

Rocky walked up and smacked the guy on the back of the head,
wiping the smile right off his face. I didn’t know how she got away with things like that, but I assumed it must have something to do with the whole cute thing she had going on. He turned around to yell at her, but then his teenage-male brain registered her hotness. That was the end of the altercation right there. It was almost enough to make me contemplate a makeover.

One of his friends jerked him down the hall; he gave Rocky one last longing glance before he finally left us alone. She rolled her eyes.

“Hey, Rocky. Did you bring your phone?”

“Got it.” She patted her pocket. “What am I filming?”

I pulled her back into the locker room, picked a corner where the homecoming court wouldn’t overhear, and briefed her on the new developments. I edited some of the gorier details, though, because it seemed only kind.

“All right,” she said, “so you’re going to run around stabbing people with syringes? Because I’m not sure that’ll go over well.”

“I hope I don’t have to do anything. I’m hoping nothing will happen until the health department looks at my data and sends in their zombie-preparedness posse. Assuming, of course, that they don’t decide I’m a crackpot.”

“So we’re the backup plan?”

I nodded.

“Got it,” she said. “What do I do?”

“Stick with me. If there’s any zombie action, record it. And stay back so you don’t get infected too, okay?”

“Roger, Captain.”

She mock-saluted, and I had to smile a little. She still didn’t quite believe me. But I knew she’d be safe, and I’d have video evidence to back up everything else I’d left for the health department. Because otherwise, I worried that they might not believe me.

Might not? Ha. No way they’d believe me.

I figured the gym would be full by this time, allowing us to slip into the crowd unnoticed. My teachers had better things to do than scan the stands to see if I showed up, but I didn’t need to be cocky either. We stopped to say goodbye to Kiki. She looked even more gorgeous than usual.

“You look hot,” Rocky said, snapping a picture.

“Good luck!” I said, as if my positive karma extended to things like the homecoming court. Kiki beamed anyway.

Rocky and I slipped into the flow of people streaming down the hall toward the gym and staked out the very end of the bleachers near the doors. The location was ideal; I’d be able to intervene quickly in a crisis. It was impeccable planning, except for the part where we accidentally sat in the burnout section. For some reason, the burnouts didn’t like that. The guy next to me had so many piercings that the scent of metal hung in the air around him. I smiled weakly and moved over to give him more room. Actually, I scooted so far that I lost my balance and nearly fell off the bleachers. Coordinated I wasn’t.

Principal Wasserman started in on the homecoming speech, which pretty much amounted to “Blah blah spirit blah blah
community blah blah I hope we actually win a game for once.” Well, he didn’t say that last part, but I knew he was thinking it. Everyone was thinking it, except me; I knew it wasn’t going to happen, because our team was short a few fingers, half a scalp, and lord knew what else.

Mr. Wasserman wrapped up the speech and introduced Aaron, who was looking überhot today. Somehow he managed to find my eyes in the sea of people. He winked, and I practically dissolved into a pile of lovesick drool.

“Coach Brzeszczak is out sick today,” Aaron said. I was just impressed that he could pronounce the name without stammering. “So it’s my pleasure to introduce the team. We may not always win, but we leave our hearts out there on the field.” I winced at the unfortunate phrasing. I should have briefed him on the zombie thing, but I’d been too busy running around in circles. “We work really hard, and I hope you’ll come out to support us at Friday night’s game. So without further ado, I give you the Bayview Bantams!”

The marching band burst into our fight song, and everyone except the burnouts jumped to their feet and started cheering.

A pair of cheerleaders maneuvered a big banner printed with completely false sayings like
BAYVIEW
=
#1!
and
BANTAMS ROCK!
onto the floor. I wasn’t sure who decided that running through paper was a great way to inspire pep, but we did this every assembly during the football season. And for some reason, we still lost.

So the band played, and the cheerleaders jiggled, and the pep
was positively bursting out of every pore in my body when a player burst through the sign, all by himself.

He was wearing his helmet backwards.

The idiocy was mind-boggling. He waggled his head around, the helmet rocking precariously from side to side. Laughter spread through the crowd. The rest of the players sprinted into the gym, running into Backwards Helmet Guy and sending him staggering. He pawed at the helmet, trying to set it right. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to notice he was missing a middle finger.

“Start recording!” I said, but Rocky didn’t hear me. So I elbowed her. She stopped midlaugh, looking at me with an offended expression.

“What?”

“Record this!”

I waited until she picked up her phone, and then I dropped off the edge of the bleachers. I wasn’t supposed to be down here. It was funny, because I’d broken a lot of laws today, but for some reason, standing under the bleachers during an assembly made me feel like a real rebel.

I marched forward, figuring I could claim student trainer rights and offer to take Mike back to the locker room. But when I stepped out from underneath the bleachers, someone grabbed me by the wrist.

“You’re not supposed to be down there,” said a familiar voice.

I wrenched my hand away from Swannie, and she laughed.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize it was you.”

She winked like we were in on something together. Like she was willing to forget that I’d gotten off the bleachers during an assembly in exchange for my forgetting that she’d infected a bunch of my classmates with a deadly disease.

After seeing what had happened to Mike’s mom, I couldn’t keep up the charade. “Back off. I’m ending this.”

“We had a deal,” she said. “You’re implicated in this too, remember?”

“I don’t care. Are you going to try to stop me?”

“Listen to me,” she said, getting right up in my face and speaking low so no one would hear. “If you cross me, I will ruin you. I will swear on a stack of Bibles that you did it all. Hank will back me up. You had access to my lab, my computer, all of it. You won’t get into a good school; heck, you’ll be lucky if you don’t go to jail. All you need to do is shut up and help me fix this, and I’ll give you everything you want. A good school. Standing in the scientific community. You should be thanking me.”

“Quit trying to bribe me,” I hissed. And then, right there in front of the entire student body, I shoved Swannie. Hard.

She flew backward, pinwheeling her arms for balance. Mike staggered blindly in her direction, the helmet still covering his eyes. I could see the collision coming but couldn’t stop it from happening. She whirled around and pointed a finger at me.

“It was all her!” she shouted.

Mike blundered into her.

If he hadn’t been infected with the zombie virus, he would have
just shrugged it off, but now his balance was shot. He staggered. The helmet tilted to the side and toppled to the floor. There was a moment of complete silence while everyone stared at his flip-top scalp and masklike skin. And then the room exploded into chaos.

I was swept away in the flood of bodies. A girl I vaguely recognized from Key Club pushed me so hard that I smacked my chin on some guy’s shoulder. Someone shoved me from behind. I went down on one knee. No one could see me; I got whacked in the head, the shoulder, and the head again. I went to all fours, pushing against the press of bodies, trying not to be trampled. A pointy heel pierced the back of my hand, and I howled, but no one heard me.

Aaron appeared in front of me like a vision from God. He hauled me to my feet, shielding me with his torso.

“Are you okay?” he shouted in my ear.

“Where’s Mike?” I looked around frantically but wasn’t tall enough to see over the crowd. “We’ve got to find him before he kills somebody.”

“What?”

“He’s infected with the zombie virus. I can cure him; just get me to him.”

Aaron pulled me close. For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me, and while that would have been awfully nice, it wasn’t the best timing. But then he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me just high enough to look around.

We stood in the middle of a throng of students, all bottlenecked in front of the gym doors. Only one was open; I could see one of the girls from Quiz Bowl mashed up against the other door, struggling to breathe. I looked the other way. There, in the middle of a wide-open expanse of floor, was Mike. He had Swannie by the arm.

I was tempted to let him have her. It was the absolute definition of poetic justice. He pulled her hand closer to his mouth despite her panicked struggles.

Then Aaron let me slide along his body down to the ground.

“That way!” I pointed. “Clear a path for me. I’ll deal with Mike.”

He looked uncertain. “Deal with him how?”

I pointed to my backpack like that was going to answer his question. To Aaron’s credit, he nodded and squeezed my hand.

“Okay,” he said. “Be careful.”

He released me and dropped into a crouch. “Get out of the way!” he bellowed. Then all the coiled strength in his legs released at once, and he blasted forward, catching the state wrestling champion square in the chest and knocking him to the floor. I’d seen Aaron in quarterback mode before, obviously, but now I realized we’d actually have a chance of winning if he was a linebacker. He was awfully good.