You Are So Undead to Me

by Stacey Jay

  Furious! I should have been furious… but for some reason, I wasn't. Some sick little part of me was very happy to be bouncing along on Ethan's shoulder, headed wherever he decided to take me. My inner feminist tried to put the smackdown on that sick little part, but soon she too was distracted by the lusciousness of Ethan. Weakness, thy name is Megan's hormones.

  I was so deep in tingle Happyville, I didn't even notice the chick leaning on London's car until we were nearly to Ethan's Mini Cooper. And even then, it took me a few seconds to recognize the identity of the scrawny size-two wench who should not have been anywhere near here.

  Monica. Not only was she not home on zombie duty, she was out getting ready to crash my date with my Josh. I would have screamed for Ethan to stop long enough for me to ask her what the hell she was doing if I'd thought he would listen. Or if a part of me weren't a little freaked out to see her standing there, looking so strangely satisfied with herself.

  Someone had to have raised those corpses, and a Settler would know how to get the job done. Could Monica?…

  Nah. Not even her horridness was that horrid, and she certainly didn't look like she'd just been bitten by two RCs. A little pale and out of breath and shivering in her oversize sweater, sure, but… hmmm…

  No. I wasn't going to go there. Yet.

  She was a bitch, not a witch or a black-magic practitioner or whatever. But I decided right then it might be smart to keep an eye on the Monicster. You know what they say-keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.

  ***

  An hour later, I'd decided I would be grateful for a lot less closeness with a certain ex-friend. Ethan had firmly vanquished every last shred of happy within me with the most boring lecture in the world on the various Unsettled commands and an in-depth briefing on grave sealing. It wouldn't have been so bad, but Ethan insisted on delivering his "lesson" in some nasty-smelling graveyard near a paper plant where he had sent one of his Unsettled earlier in the evening.

  "Now, you ready? You're going to seal the grave."

  "Me?" I asked, shuffling away.

  "Yes, you." He grabbed my hand and pulled me back.

  "But I- ow!" I jumped as Ethan jabbed me with the needle. It was a tiny little needle, the kind diabetics used to check their blood sugar, but I've never been a fan of getting stuck with sharp things. This was apparently part of the grave-sealing process, however, so I guessed I had to get used to the idea of stabbing myself on a regular basis.

  The Settler gig just kept getting better and better.

  "If you'd had one of these on you earlier, you wouldn't have had to scratch your arm to get those RCs' attention," Ethan said, though he didn't sound annoyed. I could tell he thought I was pretty brave for luring the Reanimated Corpses back to me instead of letting them find their target. Unfortunately, he wasn't sufficiently impressed to give me the rest of the night off Settler duty. Even when I'd sworn I'd known all four second-stage commands before I was scared half to death.

  He'd been appointed my tutor by the powers that be and was taking the job very seriously. I figured Mom would be pissed to find out SA thought she wasn't suitable mentor material anymore, but when I'd talked to her on Ethan's cell, she'd sounded positively thrilled. She said she just wanted to keep being my mother and it was probably better for me to learn second-stage Settling from someone who had more recent experience and blah, blah, blah,…

  So, no help was coming from that corner. Hell, she'd even extended my curfew by an hour.

  "Now, walk the perimeter of the grave, holding that hand over the center." Ethan steered me to the edge of the grave with his hands on my shoulders while I did my best to ignore how undeniably nice his touch felt. "Stay close to the edge. If any blood falls, it has to hit the grave," he said, standing back to watch my progress with a critical eye.

  "Does blood have to fall?" I asked, feeling a little queasy simply saying the word. The blood earlier hadn't bothered me since I was in the heat of battle and all, but now my aversion to the red stuff was coming back with a vengeance.

  "No, it doesn't. Settlers used to think blood had to be spilled in a circle around the grave, but somebody eventually figured out just breaking the skin was enough."

  "All around the grave? Didn't they pass out?"

  "Not their blood, animal blood."

  "Animal blood?"

  "Yeah, chickens or sometimes goats. They'd slit the animal's throat and drag it around the edge of the grave," he said, as casually as if he were discussing the directions to the nearest gas station.

  "Oh." I suddenly felt even colder. Yuck. My stomach clenched and I stumbled the last few steps around the grave.

  "Hey, are you all right?" he asked, catching my shoulders again, but this time we were facing each other and his touch was a lot softer.

  "Yeah… it's just been a long night."

  "Well, it's almost over. That's all you need to do to seal the grave. Easy, right?"

  "Right." I sucked in a deep breath, inhaling the wonderful smell of him-soap and something spicy that was all Ethan. Wow, he smelled so very good. It was almost impossible to resist the urge to lean into his chest. I wanted to press my face against his gray sweatshirt, wrap my arms around him, and hold on for dear life.

  "Rough night too, huh?" he asked, continuing on without waiting for an answer. "Well, it could have been a lot rougher. You could have died. Give me the two commands to freeze an RC."

  Okay, well, that pretty much killed the snuggle urge.

  "Desino and absisto. And thanks for reminding me about the dying part." I tried to step away, but he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for I guess what you could call a hug.

  Though it was unlike any hug I'd ever experienced before. As soon as his fingers interlocked at the small of my back, I couldn't remember how to breathe. The tingles proceeded to skyrocket off the charts, and I was fairly certain I was going to pass out before I got up the guts to look him in the eye.

  "I don't want you to be scared, but you've got to get serious about catching up. Especially with someone out there reanimating corpses."

  "I know." I dared a look up into his face, illuminated by the light of the moon, and tried not to get freaked out by the fact that our lips were four inches apart. "And don't forget about the black magic at the football field."

  "What do you know about that?" he asked, though he didn't sound mad, and his lips got a tiny bit closer to mine. Close enough I could smell the cinnamon on his breath.

  Okay. Hold the freaking phone… was there some chance Ethan was feeling the same way I was feeling? Did he actually maybe want to kiss me as much as I was dying to kiss him? Was that even in the realm of possibility? I mean, he had already graduated from high school and thought I was a complete dork-brat-idiot. Right?

  "I asked you a question," he said, still in that soft, sexy voice.

  Hmmm… what was the question again? So hard to concentrate when so very near to the sex god Ethan had become. Who would have guessed he'd grow into that huge nose he had when he was thirteen? Or that he would get even taller? He had to be six feet if he was an inch, and-

  "About the field, Schmeg?" he asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.

  Oh yeah, the football field. "I, um… did some investigating," I said, doing my best not to sound as breathless as I felt. No need to give the jerk anything else to laugh about. "And don't call me Schmeg."

  "Some investigating, huh?"

  "Yeah, I found that place on the track. Someone was working a black ritual, not ten feet from the CHS football field."

  "Maybe, maybe not." His arms tightened around me and I was suddenly paying more attention to how solid he felt under his sweatshirt than to questioning him about the football field.

  I wondered if Ethan realized that his hands were straying below my waist, down very close to butt territory? Or was this simply a friendly hug that I was totally misinterpreting?

  What was wrong with me? My school could be in imminent peril and I was
allowing myself to fall victim to raging hormones. Why couldn't I focus on truly important things instead of obsessing about whether or not Ethan wanted to jump my bones? It was just… I'd never felt this way about a guy before. Josh didn't make me tingle all over the way Ethan did, didn't make me want to see if he tasted as wonderful as he smelled.

  Thinking about sampling Ethan like an ice cream cone made my eyes drift to his lips, his full, soft-looking lips that were totally moving closer to mine. Holy cow! He was going to kiss me! He was really going to kiss me and-

  "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? That looks like a pretty nasty scratch," he said, bringing his face even closer to my shoulder and sniffing. "And it smells like grave dirt. One of the RCs did this, didn't they?"

  "Um, maybe… I didn't really notice before," I said, looking down at my shoulder to see a crusty place near my bra strap.

  The zombie who'd ripped my sweater must have broken the skin. Great, now I was going to be on antibiotics for a freaking month, and they always gave me the most awful stomachache. And I'd nearly embarrassed the bejeezus out of myself by trying to put the moves on Ethan. Could this night get any worse?

  "Come on, let's go. We'll swing by SA headquarters and see the medic on duty before I take you home." He pulled away from me as if there had never been a single moment of tension. And there probably hadn't been. I had just imagined the whole thing because I was such a loser. Thank God Ethan hadn't seemed to notice me crushing on him.

  "Fine, but you're telling me about whatever's going on at my school on the way," I said, making sure to use my crankiest voice as I followed him back to his car.

  "Nope, don't think so."

  "Yes, I do think so."

  "Doesn't matter what you think. You are my lowly student and I the masterful teacher."

  I laughed at that-I couldn't help myself. "This from a guy with a C average?"

  "By the time I graduated, I had a B average." He opened the door for me and then ran around to jump in the driver's seat. "You missed a lot those five years."

  "Yeah, I guess I did," I said, feeling a little sad. I had missed a lot. Maybe it would have been better if I'd never lost my powers, if I'd just kept being a Settler. Then Ethan and I would have stayed friends and maybe even… eventually…

  No way. Ethan never was and never will be interested in you. You're like the annoying little sister he never had, and that's it.

  Right. I had to stay focused on practical goals, like learning enough Settler stuff to keep from dying, making sure my school was safe from black magic, and convincing Josh to finally asked me to the dance. Ethan was just my tutor and maybe my friend when he was in a good mood, nothing more.

  That shouldn't have made me even sadder, but it did.

  CHAPTER 6

  The next day passed in a haze, probably because I'd been up until midnight and Mom refused to let me have coffee because she was afraid it would stunt my growth. I was obviously already done growing, but that line of reasoning only led to arguments about decreasing bone density, so I'd learned not to try to get my caffeine fix at home.

  Sometimes Jess hooked me up with a latte from the 7-Eleven, but she was absent at a dentist's appointment all morning. I didn't see her until lunch, where the most caffeine we could get our hands on was a chocolate brownie. All the soda machines had been removed from the cafeteria last year to help combat childhood obesity or something lame like that. Hello, we were teens, not children, and Diet Coke had never made anyone obese.

  By the time we got to dance practice, I was wiped, but there was no way I could miss. It was our second-to-last chance to work on our optional routine before tryouts started next week.

  Of course, I would have been able to concentrate a heck of a lot better if it had been just me and Jess as planned, not me and Jess and my new tutor-who insisted on picking me up after school and driving us both to the studio so we wouldn't waste a second getting to the graveyard afterward.

  "Megan, are you ready?" Jess asked, and I could tell from the slight concern in her voice that it wasn't the first time she'd asked. Focus! I had to focus. Settler crap had already ruined my second first date with Josh and put my homecoming date situation in peril. I couldn't let it compromise my chances of making the pom squad too.

  "Yep, totally." I nodded to Kayla, who started the music.

  "Five, six, seven, eight." Jess counted down the beat under her breath and we both launched into the hip-hop sequence at the start of the next eight count.

  Four knees bent deep in unison; then we pushed into a roll across the ground that ended with a jump back to our feet, a scissor kick, a quick ball change, and some very sexy hip swivels. We were coated in fresh sweat and breathing hard by the time we tagged on the new sixteen count we'd just learned from Kayla.

  "Awesome, girls!" She actually applauded when we finished, a rare event from our jazz/hip-hop guru.

  Kayla had been second runner-up for Miss Missouri three years ago, and most said this achievement had been based on her mad dance skills alone. But mad skills or no, she certainly wouldn't have had a chance at a title this year. Not that she wasn't a cute college chick, but Kayla had become a bit too hard-core for the pageant circuit. With her jet-black hair and tendency to wear skull and crossbones-inspired clothing, she was committed to fashion choices that were not pageant-friendly.

  "Let's take it back to the beginning and learn the twenty-four-count entry sequence. I think you two are ready to slip a triple in there before the pas de bourrйe." Kayla took the center of the floor, and Jess and I fell in behind.

  We set a crazy pace from then on, both of us determined to lock down this new routine before we started dance squad clinic next week. On Monday we'd be inundated with new moves and knew we wouldn't want to be worrying about the optional routine. Of course, we really didn't have to do a fourth dance, but we figured any chance to show off our strong points was a good call.

  I couldn't wait for our extra class on Friday. If the rest of the week went anything like the past two days, I would be needing the stress relief by then, and dancing always made me forget everything that was bugging me. Well… almost everything…

  Ethan sat out in the waiting room, and there was no way I could completely lose track of the fact that he was watching me. No matter how I'd tried, I couldn't stop replaying that moment in the graveyard, when he'd been holding me and I was so certain we were going to kiss.

  Of course, kissing Ethan should have been the last thing on my mind. I had a mere week and a half to convince Josh to ask me to homecoming. Maybe less if he was really sick. He hadn't been in chemistry, and no one knew where he was.

  "Good work, girls. I think you're ready. If you don't make the squad, your competition must be ready to dance backup for Rihanna." Kayla shut off the stereo and started packing up her dance bag.

  "Thanks, Kayla," Jess said, pulling off her sweatshirt.

  I stuffed my dance shoes in my bag as Jess turned to help Kayla gather her CDs. "Are you going to be here next Monday after ballet class, Kay? We'll know the first routine for tryouts by then, and I'd love to-"

  "You might know more than the first routine," said a voice from behind us. Jess and I turned to see London standing at the studio entrance. She hadn't been at school today either, but I guess she was feeling up to dance class. "We're going to separate everyone into groups by ability. The advanced group might get in a routine and a half."

  Advanced group! She'd implied that we would be in the advanced group, and she'd actually smiled afterward. Obviously she didn't hate me for skipping out on them last night. "Hey, Megan, you feeling better?"

  I shrugged, trying to act as if it were normal for one of the coolest girls in school to be inquiring after my health, even though out of the corner of my eye I saw Jess's jaw drop. "Yeah, thanks. I felt better this morning. I think it must have been something I ate."

  "Well, it's probably better you left. The boys were acting so retarded, daring each other to jump off the giant hay
bales at the center of the maze. You heard Josh broke his leg, right?"

  No! Not a broken leg! That would mean-

  "He's out of football for the rest of the season," she said, as if that weren't a big deal. He was our quarterback, for God's sake! He was a vital part of our team. A broken leg was a catastrophe-one that could also mean he wouldn't want to attend the homecoming dance. What fun was a dance with a broken leg?

  "I was at the emergency room with him and Andy until one in the morning. I'm so beat," London said, stretching her arms above her head until her tiny midriff showed.

  Not that I would have noticed said midriff if Ethan hadn't taken that moment to enter the studio.

  "Megan, let's go. I don't have all night," Ethan said, glaring pointedly at his watch.

  "Hey, Eat!" London squealed, enveloping Ethan in a hug. Hello, didn't she remember she had a boyfriend? And what was with the "Eat" crap? What kind of nickname was that? "What are you doing here? Come to see Monica?"

  "Not that I remember. Did we have a date, killer?" Monica suddenly appeared behind Ethan, hugging him from the other side. Oh my God, the boy was now the center of a hot senior girl sandwich. How dare they rub their half-naked bodies all over my Ethan?

  Your Ethan'? Girl, you've got it bad.

  "Nope," Ethan said, seemingly unaffected by all the unnecessary fondling. "You stood me up for ice cream last time. I had to eat both cones myself."

  "Oh, poor baby. That must have been so bad for your girlish figure." Monica slapped Ethan on the arm before stripping off her sweater, obviously looking for an excuse to show off her own tiny midriff in her cropped tank top.

  This time I didn't notice whether Ethan's attention was lured to Monica's rock-hard abs, however, because my own gaze was pulled straight to the giant bandage on her arm. What the hell was that about? Not only was it hard to believe Monica would be generous enough to share her life essence with those in need, but her bandage was nearly three times the size of the tiny one Jess had gotten after she gave blood. Why would Monica need something that big to cover a tiny needle hole?