But Brody snuck up on her. He was nondescript, according to the list she had made of attributes necessary for a perfect boyfriend. There was no denying that he was good-looking with his shaggy blond hair and green eyes. But he was from Brooklyn and a scholarship student, and my dear social-climbing friend just couldn’t handle that sort of reputation for her future boyfriend.
He was always there though: volunteering to help her campaign for class president, helping her bake cupcakes for the Honor Society bake sales, and helping her to study math, her hardest subject. It wasn’t long before she dropped the cold method of finding someone suitable to her list and fell madly in love with Brody Levitt. That was three years ago, and she has never lost that dreamy look on her face when he came near her.
“Dance with me?” he asked, holding his hand out to her.
She grinned, taking his hand. She looked at me. “You okay over here?”
I nodded. “Go.”
“Have fun, wallflower,” she called behind her as Brody led her to the dance floor.
“Hey, that’s a good book,” I retorted, but she was too far away and the music was too loud for her to hear. I stood around for a moment, watching my classmates dancing on the dance floor before deciding to walk over to the dessert table and grab a cupcake. Madison had managed to get the cupcakes donated by Crumbs, and I had been dying to try one all night.
I was peeling the wrapper off a dark chocolate cupcake when Ash came up to me. “And here I thought you weren’t coming to the dance.”
I shrugged, trying to ignore how good he looked. None of the guys at St. Joseph’s looked particularly good in the uniforms, but once they were out of them, it was a completely different story. “I helped put the decorations up, might as well see my hard work in action.”
He laughed, reaching for a cupcake himself. “Don’t lie. You may act all cool and aloof, but I know that you love to dance.”
“And how do you know that?” I asked, swiping a glob of cream cheese frosting off the top of the cupcake and stuck it in my mouth. I nearly moaned; this was delicious.
“I pay attention, Z,” he said, biting into his own cupcake. Unlike me, he didn’t hold back and a moan escaped his lips. “Jesus, these are amazing.”
“What do you want, Ash?” I asked, shaking my hair out of my face.
“Come dance with me.”
I burst out laughing. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“I know you love to dance, Z, and I know you’re dying to right now,” he said, wagging his eyebrows up and down suggestively. “So come dance with me.”
I shook my head, a grin still on my face. “No, Ash, I’m smart enough to know that accepting a dance with you is a bad idea. I’ve seen Carrie. I’ve seen Never Been Kissed. It never works out well for the geeky girl when the popular boy asks her to dance.”
“You don’t look very geeky in that dress,” Ash said, looking me up and down, his eyes lingering over my breasts, hips and legs. I felt a blush creep up on my cheeks, and I knew my face probably matched my dress perfectly.
“Zoey, do you want to dance?”
I turned and saw Eddie Ward standing there. He had been considered as a perfect match for Madison when she was obsessed with that sort of thing, until he had announced that he was gay, to the disappointment of Madison and pretty much every eligible bachelorette in New York City. Eventually he became incredibly close friends with Madison and, in turn, with me as well. He often went out to the clubs with us, dragging his boyfriend Trent along with us. He was a fantastic dancer.
I grinned and put the cupcake back on the table, away from the clean, untouched ones. “I would love to.” I took his outstretched hand and let him lead me down to the dance floor. I tossed a victory smile over my shoulder at Ash. The DJ picked a faster paced song, and I felt the music pouring through my body.
“Was Ash bothering you?” Eddie shouted in my ear, his hands on my hips.
I rolled my eyes. “He’s always bothering me. It’s fine.”
We stayed on the dance floor for a few songs before Trent came up to us. He looked awful. His face was incredibly pale, and sweat dripped through his hair and was running down his cheeks.
“Oh my god, Trent. Are you okay?” I shouted. I grabbed his arm, and Eddie and I guided him through the crowd to a seat on the outside.
He immediately collapsed on a bench, his head in his hands. He groaned loudly. “I feel awful.”
“Please don’t throw up on the shoes,” I begged, and Eddie laughed. “Seriously, I worked hard for these. And Madison will kill you because she picked them out.”
Eddie threw me an amused but exasperated look and turned to his boyfriend. “What did you have to eat?”
“Pancakes at the diner. And I had about three of those cupcakes,” Trent said, looking like he was going to blow chunks at any moment.
Eddie laughed a little at that. “I told you that pancakes for dinner was a bad idea,” he scolded him. He hooked his arm through Trent’s and hauled him to his feet. “Sounds like a trip to the little boy’s room is in order.” He smiled apologetically at me, and I smiled back, watching them walk away.
“What’s wrong with Trent?” Madison said, coming up from behind me and looking worried.
“He’s sick. He’s probably throwing up right now,” I explained. Madison looked panicked for a moment. “He had pancakes before the dance apparently and three of the cupcakes, so it’s really not a surprise.”
“Oh god, the cupcakes,” Madison moaned, looking around. “There are a couple girls in the bathroom throwing up too.”
“Yeah, that’s probably not the cupcakes,” I said drily. Brody laughed, and I grinned widely.
“Zoey Elizabeth Valentine, be seriously!” Madison shrieked. “This is a disaster.”
“It’s not a disaster,” I said, breezily. “A couple people are sick. It’s not a big deal, and it’s most likely not the cupcakes. Did you have a cupcake?”
“Yes,” she answered, slowly and uncertainly.
“And are you sick?” I said, just as slowly.
“Well, no, but…”
“It’s not the cupcakes,” I said firmly.
“There’s been some guys throwing up too,” Brody piped up.
“You’re not helping, Brody,” I laughed. “We’re trying to avoid a meltdown.” Brody laughed again, and even Madison showed a small smile.
At that moment, a few freshmen girls came bursting out of the dance crowd. Two girls had a third supported between them. She had a distinct green tinge to her face, and I had a bad feeling immediately. She stopped her friends, her hands clutching her stomach tightly. I winced as she pitched forward and threw up all over the concrete floor.
Madison ran forward and grabbed the arm of one of the friends. “Did she have a cupcake?”
The girl looked from Madison to me, looking shocked, but nodded. Madison threw me a triumphant look, and I resisted the urge to throw my shoe at her. We jumped back a moment later as she joined her friend in vomiting.
“This is a disaster,” Madison said again, her voice full of anger and disappointment.
I looked at Brody and saw that he was giving up as well. “Yeah, I think it’s time to cut the party.” I sighed and headed over to the DJ, taking the reins away from my disappointed friend.
Five Weeks Later
THAT WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING of people getting sick. Madison had been convinced for at least a week that the people getting sick at the fall dance were the results of a bad batch of cupcakes, food poisoning, or something having to do with the dance. As the sickness spread through the city, she finally relented and let the explanation of an early flu season take the blame for ruining her dance.
No one thought anything of it. It was October in New York. People get the flu; they take medicine, and they get over it. It was not a big deal. It was not rocket science: in a city of millions, germs spread easily and so did the flu season.
I guess it was hard to pinpoint the moment that the vi
rus hit us, because we were so unaware of it. It started out just like your normal flu: fever, chills, vomiting. When it lasted more than a couple of days, people started going to doctors.
That’s when it got worse. That’s when we knew it was different.
It started affecting more people. Everyone went nuts, trying to get their hands on a flu vaccine, but they were running out, and it was becoming clear that it wasn’t just the flu. The flu didn’t turn your skin so pale that it was nearly blue or cause bright red sores that bled incessantly when they burst. The flu didn’t kill people, not like this, not this quickly.
Two kids died at St. Joseph’s within a few weeks of the virus, including one of the sick girls from the dance. Trent followed a week later. This was only the beginning.
“Zoey, I’ve been thinking…”
I paused in the middle of pouring milk into my cereal bowl. “Well, I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Just hear me out,” my dad said, laying down his newspaper. I avoided looking at the headlines; they were just too depressing to look at. After seeing Trent’s obituary in the paper, it held no appeal to me. “People are getting sick all over the place, champ, and no one has really figured out what it is.”
“Dad…” I had a feeling I knew where this conversation was heading and I was also sure that I didn’t like its direction.
“And it’s not just New York anymore. There are cases of the virus all over the place: Los Angeles, Chicago, Philadelphia, Denver, Seattle, everywhere.”
I sat at the table, taking a bite of my cereal. “Dad, we’ve discussed this. I’m not dropping out of school. I’m not sitting at home, by myself, all the time.”
“It would just be a break,” he insisted. His hazel eyes met my own very different deep brown eyes. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
“I’m already getting gun lessons,” I grumbled. “I’ve already learned every type of self-defense there is.” He gave me a look, one that clearly said I was acting like a brat. “I am safe. It’s not like it’s the black plague, Dad. People aren’t walking down the street with a wheelbarrow and piling bodies into it. We don’t have ring around the rosie or anything. I’m fine.”
He sighed, exasperated, and I knew that I was pushing my luck. He was genuinely worried about me and if the virus didn’t get under control soon, I’d be spending my days on the couch watching early afternoon talk shows. “Zoey Elizabeth, one of your friends has already died. I’m just trying to protect you.”
“You’re always trying to protect me. Hence the gun lessons,” I pointed out, thinking about the pamphlet about some boot camp he had slipped under my door a few weeks ago. It seemed to be the only class on this island that I hadn’t taken.
“Well, it’s my job.”
I gave him an ill-amused look and a small smile appeared on his lips. “It’s your job to protect everyone, Dad.”
“You’re the most important, champ,” he answered, then taking a sip of his coffee. He folded the newspaper back into place, with perfect creases, the way he always did before leaving for work.
“I’m not going to get sick,” I said, firmly.
He stood up and grabbed his coat off the back of his chair. “If it gets worse, you’re staying home.” He came over and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you after work.”
I waited until I heard him pull away before getting up. I washed my dishes, leaving them in the drying rack, and grabbed my coat from the front closet. I made sure the dog door was open and gave Bandit a kiss on the head before leaving.
Madison was waiting on the front stoop for me when I opened the front door. She was talking to Ash, using her hands to animate the story. I sighed, turning to lock the front door before turning back to them. “Madison!”
She looked up, a big smile on her small face. Everything about her was small. I wasn’t exactly tall at 5’4”, but I towered over her. “Hey, Zoey. You ready?”
I nodded, shifting my backpack so it lay comfortably between my shoulder blades. I walked down the steps, avoiding any eye contact with Ash. He had booby trapped my locker with glitter two days earlier, and I had walked around in my St. Joseph’s uniform the rest of the day looking like a fabulous Catholic school girl out of some weird anime movie. To say I was still a bit angry would have been a vast understatement.
We made it a few blocks in silence before Madison finally spoke. “Did you hear about Xavier Campos? He went to the hospital last night. He was already covered in sores, but I guess his mom didn’t want to take him. His dad snuck him out in the middle of the night.”
“Oh god,” I said, feeling sick. Xavier sat behind me in Algebra II, and I had known him since kindergarten. “How on earth did you find this out?”
“Victoria,” Madison said, referring to Xavier’s girlfriend. “She texted him this morning and his brother told her. He’s sick as well, but not as bad.”
“Oh god,” I repeated. “No one tell my dad. He really wants me to stay home.”
“I don’t know, Zoey,” Madison said, looking worried as we slushed through the gray puddles along the sidewalk. It was already turning into a gloomy winter. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. People are getting sick everywhere.”
“Not you too,” I groaned, stopping for a moment to pull up one of my knee socks. “We aren’t getting sick. There’s no need for everyone to get so panicky.”
“If you get sick, Z, I could take care of you.”
I jumped, looking over my shoulder at Ash. “Geez. You’re still here?”
“We do attend the same school,” he pointed out, a big grin on his face. His hair was windswept, and his cheeks had turned red from the cold, making his blue eyes stand out even more. “And take the same subway.”
“Go away, Ash,” I said, giving him a withering look before turning back around.
As usual, he ignored me. He fell into step next to me, forcing Madison to walk in front of us. She tossed an amused look over her shoulder but kept walking. Ash was Brody’s best friend, and Madison had been convinced for months, years even, that Ash and I would work out and the four of us would live happily ever after. Not likely. Not in this world.
“I would take care of you if you were sick. I’d fluff your pillows and tuck you in and make you chicken soup and read you a bedtime story.” He grabbed my hand held it to his chest. I tried very hard to ignore the hard muscles I could feel even through his coat. “Maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll even give you a sponge bath.”
“You’re disgusting,” I answered, trying to pull my hand back. He held fast, grinning at me.
“Ash!”
The two of us turned and saw Heather Carr, Ash’s girlfriend, standing over at the entrance to the subway, their usual meeting spot. She had her arms folded tight across her chest, looking angry. Ash dropped my hand like it was on fire and strode over to her, where she immediately started speaking heatedly to him.
Madison came back to stand next to me, looking at the couple arguing. Heather looked angry, her posture tense, while Ash had his hands shoved in his pockets, unconcerned and bored. “Can you please just make out with him already? The tension is too much for even me to handle.”
“Really, Madison? I’m not putting my mouth anywhere near his. Especially since it’s been on hers,” I said, nodding my head in Heather’s direction.
“Just think, Zoey,” she said, as we snuck past them and down the stairs. “If you dated Ash, you could totally be prom queen.”
“I thought you wanted to be prom queen,” I said, raising my eyebrow at her.
She thought about it for a moment, her nose wrinkled in concentration. “Okay, maybe just the prom court then.” I laughed, and she smiled mischievously at me.
I COULDN’T SLEEP.
It was hot in my room, stifling. I tossed and turned for hours before finally pushing the covers aside and walking across my room to my window. I pushed it open, letting the air fill my room. Bandit looked up from his corner of the room with one sleepy
eye open. Once he had determined that I was okay and safe, he closed his eye again, and his soft dog snores filled the room.
I took a deep breath and sat on my window seat for a moment, enjoying the breeze on my sweat covered body. I realized how dry my throat was, and I made my way downstairs to get something to drink.
I had barely opened a bottle of water when I heard a crash upstairs. I shrieked, and water went everywhere, including down my shirt. I waited, and heard more movement upstairs. The clock on the oven read 2:52, and I furrowed my brow, confused. What on earth was my dad doing up at this time?
I waited for a few moments at the bottom of the stairs before calling out, “Dad?”
He came rushing down the stairs, his shirt on inside out. He looked frazzled and stressed out; he hadn’t even bothered to comb his hair. “Zoey? Why aren’t you in bed?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said. “What’s going on? Why aren’t you in bed?”
“There’s been a homicide down at the morgue,” he said, rushing past me to grab his coat and scarf from the closet.
“At the morgue?” I asked, confused. “But isn’t everyone there already…” I didn’t finish the thought.
“Dead? Mostly. They brought in a bunch of doctors from the CDC to examine the bodies of those dying from the virus. They’re dying too fast to be tested while alive.”
“Okay…” I said, unsure of why he was telling me this or how this could possibly be important.
He looked at me. “The three doctors at the morgue are dead.”
“Oh my god,” I said, horrified. “Why? Why would that even happen? Aren’t they there to fix the problem?”
He sighed. “Well, we’re going to try and find out.” He opened the front door, but paused before leaving. “Don’t wait up for me. And Zoey? Stay home from school today, okay?”
The Awakened Page 3