I spent the next hour sitting on my dresser and glaring into the mirror above my vanity, while Matilda coached me through the process of painting my face. I didn’t have half a clue about makeup. I had a tube of tinted lip balm that I’d bought freshman year, in hopes of luring Wayne closer to my lips. That was pretty much it. Anytime I walked in on my mom while she was putting on mascara, she would tell me how lucky I was that I didn’t need makeup. Apparently, Matilda didn’t think so.
By the fifth attempt, the makeup finally started to look like something other than a kindergartener’s handiwork.
I sighed at myself in the mirror. “I look like a streetwalker.”
“That’s kinda the point.” Matilda shrugged and wrinkled up her nose. The bluish skin around her eyes was beginning to flake off. A chunk landed on the edge of my dresser, and I cringed away from it.
“You’re... molting.” I made a face and flicked the dry skin to the floor.
Matilda moaned. “I know.” I had the feeling she would have cried if her tear ducts weren’t so dried up.
The first brilliant idea of the day hit me suddenly. “You should probably start spending the night out back in the shed. The cold might help slow down your decay.”
Matilda looked skeptical. “You really think so?”
“Yeah, and then I could actually get some sleep and be more productive during the day.”
She tilted her chin up. “Fine, but I’ll still be waiting for you when you get home. Don’t try anything stupid.”
“What could be more stupid than letting a zombie take over my life?” I grumbled. We both turned to look back in the mirror at my new face.
“We still need to do some online shopping,” Matilda said.
“About that. I have, like, fifty dollars in my Paypal account.” My meager allowance was usually spent on books. I had a feeling I was going to have to dust off my library card if I wanted to do any reading in the near future.
Matilda folded her arms. “Can’t you swipe one of your parent’s credit cards?”
“My parents don’t have credit cards,” I lied. There was no way I was going to steal from my parents. I had to draw a line somewhere.
“Ebay it is then.” Matilda spun my desk chair around and motioned for me to sit.
We browsed through hundreds of listings for short skirts and low-dipping blouses. There were sequined handbags and chunky bracelets, fake eyelashes and cropped jackets. Most of the clothing didn’t look like it covered nearly enough skin.
“You do realize that it’s the middle of winter, right?” I said, after Matilda had me click on a listing for a studded tube top.
She rolled her eyes. “You wear a jacket over it, duh.”
“A real jacket? Or one of those cropped jackets that look like a preschooler’s hand-me-down?”
Matilda ignored me and pointed to another listing. “There! That’s the one we want.”
The listing was for a lot of miscellaneous items. There were two off-the-shoulder blouses, a pair of jean print tights, a khaki miniskirt, and two pairs of silver hooped earrings. All for thirty bucks.
“That should get you started. We can make some alterations to a few of the things that you already have.”
“Super.” I clicked the buy now option on the listing, hoping that Matilda was done with me for the evening.
My cell phone vibrated on my dresser, but I ignored it. It was probably Chloe. I was still trying to decide what to tell her. She already thought I needed therapy, so there was no way I could share the fact that my life had been hijacked by the evil dead. Truth or lie, I really didn’t want to talk to her with Matilda breathing over my shoulder.
I stretched my hands over my head. “Well, it’s late, and I still have algebra homework to do. It should be dark enough for you to head out to the shed now.”
“Right.” Matilda pressed her cracked lips together, and then she walked over to my bed and pulled my sketchbook out from under my pillow. “I’ll just hang on to this for now. It would be a shame if you screwed up my plan and the Ds happened to get their hands on it. Keep that in mind when you’re doing your algebra homework.” She slipped out of my room and down the hall.
I had a horror movie image of my mom doing dishes at the sink and spotting the Hun as she snuck into the shed. In fact, I almost hoped for it. At least someone would believe me then. Of course, my mom would probably try to rationalize it away, and I’d end up in a nuthouse anyway.
I sighed and flipped open my algebra book. My cell phone vibrated on my dresser again. I just wasn’t ready to lie to Chloe, so I let it ring. My homework was a lot tougher to manage with so much on my mind and zero sleep. I struggled through equations and word problems, unable to focus on any one thing for too long. Matilda had infected my thoughts. If one evil zombie takes over your life, subtract one potential boyfriend, and add two brainless sidekicks. How many days will it take for your brain to explode? Please present your answer in an equation.
Around seven, my dad called me downstairs for dinner. I was sure to wash the makeup off before I joined them at the table. I’d get enough weird looks from them in the morning. After about twenty minutes of picking at a plate of taco casserole, I excused myself from the table, claiming a stomach ache.
When I got back to my room, I flopped down on my bed face first. My phone buzzed again. Curiosity finally got the better of me and I picked it up to find four missed calls and eight text messages. Two of the calls were from Chloe, as expected, but I also had one from Wayne, and another from a number I didn’t recognize.
Half of the texts were from Chloe, expressing her extreme confusion and feelings of neglect. Then there was one from Wayne. He was actually apologizing for the way he handled the kiss at the barbeque. My heart tightened. I wanted to message him back, but the thought of Matilda stood in the way. What if I couldn’t get rid of her? What if I couldn’t actually bring myself to kill her and stuff her down the garbage disposal? Would I really have to give up Wayne all over again? I didn’t want to think that far ahead yet.
The last few texts were from the same number as the call I didn’t recognize. It was Eddie. I didn’t remember giving him my number. He was asking some vague homework question, but I didn’t have the energy to text or call him back. I didn’t have the energy for much of anything, I realized just before my eyes closed and I was out.
My dreams were more screwed up than usual. I was suddenly in Wayne’s backyard again, except this time I was dressed up like Matilda. I even had blond hair and bluish zombie skin. Wayne called me Mattie and put his tongue in my mouth, but it tasted different, and it felt like sandpaper against the roof of my mouth. I couldn’t pull free from his suffocating kiss long enough to tell him that I was me, not Matilda. It was a far cry from sugarplums. I would have preferred a naked in class nightmare, or even a good old-fashioned falling to my death number. No such luck.
Even with the two extra hours of sleep, morning came too soon. I smelled Matilda before I saw her, and I woke on the cusp of a scream that I quickly swallowed.
“Good morning, princess. It’s show time.” Matilda shut off my alarm clock.
“I hate you,” I grumbled, throwing the covers back.
She laughed. “Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed.”
“And I guess you got up on the right side of the lawnmower?” I dodged out of my room and shuffled down the hallway to the bathroom. A hot shower was bound to improve my mood.
As grumpy and tired as I was, I could still feel the unsettling cyclone of nerves stirring in my gut. The shoes were one thing, but the makeup was going to be tough. There were going to be looks. There were going to be questions. There were going to be lies. I didn’t know if I was ready for any of it. I did not do attention well.
I stood under the shower longer than I should have and earned a knock from my mother. “Honey, are you okay? You’ve been in there an awfully long time.”
“Yeah, mom,” I shouted over the spray. I sighed and turned t
he water off. “I’m fine. Just moving a little slow this morning.”
“Okay, sweetie. Your father is leaving early for work. Do you want me to save you some eggs?”
“That’s okay. I’m not hungry.” I vaguely wondered if Matilda had eaten anything since she crawled out of the ground, and I shuddered.
The bathroom grew cold, so I stepped out of the shower and toweled off before blow-drying my hair. I brushed my teeth, rubbed on some lotion, and did half a dozen other things I normally didn’t do as part of my grooming regime. I didn’t know how long it would take Matilda to lose her patience and come looking for me, but I finally decided not to push my luck and put the nail polish back in the drawer.
The Hun was waiting for me in my closet when I returned to my room. She had picked out a pair of beige tights and a green tunic blouse. “This will have to do until the Ebay order comes in.”
“That’s a shirt, not a dress.”
Matilda frowned at the outfit and then at me. “It’s long enough to be a dress, and it will look good with those cheap fur boots of yours.”
“I’m not wearing the blue shoes?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, you’re not wearing those shoes two days in a row. Are you crazy? If you wear them every day, you’ll exhaust their coolness. Duh.”
“Oh.” That actually made sense. She had probably read it in some snobby magazine article about skank etiquette. “That shirt is still too short.”
“Just don’t bend over.” She pushed it into my hands and raised a crusty eyebrow, daring me to try her again.
I sighed and closed myself in the closet to try the shirt and tights on. After I slipped on my fur boots, I couldn’t argue with Matilda anymore. She had been right. The outfit looked good on me. I almost didn’t want to ruin it by putting on the makeup, but I was already weary of arguing with the Hun.
“Do I really need all this?” I asked Matilda as I added a second coat of mascara.
“Look, we need to fast-track you into the Ds’ circle. This is the way to do it. I’ve been their leader since sixth grade. I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”
“Right.” I finished up and grabbed my backpack. “Run it by me one more time.”
Matilda held out her slimy fingers and began checking off the list she had come up with. “Talk as little as possible. Act bored with everything. Always be busy with cooler plans.”
I frowned at her. “How am I supposed to get into their circle if I turn them down when they ask me to do something?”
“One step at a time. Seriously, J. I know what I’m doing.” Matilda folded her arms and grinned at me.
I left her in my room and bit back the smile that was trying to creep over my face. The coolest girl in school had just given me a nickname. Well, she used to be the coolest girl in school. I still hated her guts, I reminded myself. She was still taking over my life and blackmailing me into helping her get the boy of my dreams to go to prom with her.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the living room mirror and felt a little sick about the fact that I actually liked the way I looked. Maybe I would wipe the makeup off when I got to school. Maybe I would just make up a bogus story about her plan working, at least until I could devise a way to get my parents out of the house long enough to chop her up and stuff her down the garbage disposal. The idea had sounded really good when I first came up with it. Now it was beginning to sound a little psycho serial killer, even though she was technically already dead.
Breakthroughs
Chapter 12
If the car ride to school was any indication of how uncomfortable my day was going to be, I was screwed. My mom almost ran a stop sign, since she just couldn’t stop looking at me. Finally, I was the one to break the silence.
“Yes, I am wearing makeup. I am seventeen, and everyone else my age is wearing makeup too.”
“I don’t think I really need to use the whole jumping off a bridge analogy, do I?”
“You really don’t.” I laughed. “At least, I hope not. I wasn’t really expecting makeup to result in my death today.”
“I wasn’t expecting it to result in mine either.” She laughed nervously and paid extra attention to the next traffic sign.
When we finally pulled up in front of the school, she reached over and patted my knee. “For what it’s worth, sweetie, I think you’re beautiful with or without makeup.”
“I love you too, Mom.” I hopped out of the car feeling a little better, only to be snatched by the arm and hauled around to the backside of the cafeteria.
“What’s going on with you?” Chloe hissed at me.
I jerked my arm away from her. “Ow.”
“You skipped our after-lunch visit yesterday, and then you didn’t return any of my calls or texts last night. Did I do something to upset you?”
“No, I’ve just been busy.” I shrugged and looked away.
“Whoa. Where did you learn how to put on makeup? And what’s up with the tights?”
I blushed and stepped further away from her. “I’ve worn makeup before.”
“Not like that, you haven’t.” Chloe grabbed my arm again before I could walk away. “Are you doing this because of Wayne? Do you think he expects you to be more like Matilda?”
“No. I’m not doing this because of Wayne. Grief, Chloe. I’m seventeen. I can wear makeup if I want to. Back off.” I pulled my arm away from her again and left her standing wide-eyed behind the cafeteria.
I felt mildly bad about snapping at her, but I didn’t know what else I could have said. I wasn’t used to being uncomfortable in my own skin, and having her throw all my not-so-subtle changes out in the open just made it that much worse.
Chloe was definitely the prettier one when it came to us. She didn’t wear much makeup either, but where my mother peppered me with little mandatory, motherly compliments, Chloe was a true natural beauty. She had an exotic, Egyptian look to her. Her eyes were lined with thick, dark lashes, and her shiny black hair always lay perfectly smooth down to her jawline, where it was cut in a sharp bob.
I wanted to be mad at her and pretend that she was just jealous that I looked better than she did for once, but that was a lie. She was just being Chloe, trying to decipher her best friend’s odd behavior in that blunt way she had about her. Maybe I would feel better by lunchtime, and I could apologize when I visited with her in the art room.
I was almost late to first period, but I didn’t rush to my desk when the bell rang. I followed Matilda’s instructions and walked slowly, like someone who was utterly bored, even though the day had just begun.
I didn’t look at anyone as I made my way to the front of the class, but I heard Mitch and Denise whispering. I sat down and crossed my legs under my desk. Mr. Hammond did a double-take when he noticed me, and I quietly prayed that he wouldn’t make a public announcement about my appearance. At least Chloe had the decency to drag me behind the cafeteria first.
Mitch and Denise whispered away behind me all through class. At one point, Denise giggled. It could have been about anything. Mitch could have just cracked a funny joke. It might not have even been about me, but I felt my cheeks flare all the same. I wondered if Matilda’s heavy duty makeup would hide my discomfort. The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous I was sure I looked. After the bell rang, I forgot Matilda’s advice and rushed out of class ahead of everyone else so I could find sanctuary in the bathroom.
I had a wet paper towel in hand and was trying to decide the best way to go about removing the makeup when the Ds walked in. I froze and looked away from them. Act bored. Act bored. Act bored. I tossed the paper towel in the trash and popped out a tube of lipstick Matilda had given me to touch up with throughout the day.
Danielle slipped a cigarette out of her purse and lit up right in front of me. She glanced over to see if I would say anything before passing it to Denise. I ignored them and continued applying the lipstick.
The Ds were a pretty pair. They weren’t Matilda pretty, but they tried. They had
both colored their hair to match Matilda’s platinum blond, and it was painfully obvious that they bought their clothes at the same skanky boutiques. Their collective look rarely strayed from stripper-casual, unless Matilda wore something new or unusual. Then the Ds would rush out to find the item like they were searching for the Holy Grail. I often overheard them discussing their shopping missions in the bathroom.
The Ds were typical cutthroat snobs. They never seemed to particularly like Matilda’s style. They were just simply too unimaginative to take the kind of risks Matilda did. They wanted to be trendsetters, but Matilda was the one with all the guts. Their catty discussions made it sound like they begrudged Matilda for beating them to it, but really, they just couldn’t admit the sad fact that they were bitter little clones. To anyone with ears, it sounded like they hated Matilda just as much as I did, but instead of avoiding her like the plague, they chose to shove themselves neck-deep up her arse.
The Ds weren’t the real deal, but that didn’t mean that they hadn’t had plenty of practice. The Matilda residue was still strong, and it hung around them like a vile aura of snobbery and ill intentions. I felt it seep into my very bones as Denise stared me down through the mirror. I did my best not to stare back, but it felt too much like playing possum with a mountain lion. She finally looked away and passed the cigarette to Danielle. “Nice liner. What brand is that?” she asked, looking down at her nails.
“Rimmel,” I answered without looking up. I was suddenly glad that I had paid attention to everything Matilda had instructed me to put on my face.
“I like it.” Danielle tilted her head to look at me in the mirror over my shoulder. She gave me a little grin and held the cigarette out to me. “You want?” Denise grimaced at her.
My chest tightened, but I shrugged and took the cigarette. I’d never smoked before, and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to. It smelled awful, and I really didn’t want to choke up a lung in front of them. I did my best not to inhale the smoke, only sucking in the smallest amount. I held it for a half a second and blew it out, unable to hide my disgust.
Crazy Ex-Ghoulfriend Page 7