Undeadly

by Michele Vail

  “Where’s Gena?” I asked.

  “Talking to Mason.” She waggled her brows, but I could see the flicker of envy. When you’re taller than most boys, they don’t really talk to you much. But there was also the matter of Becks being completely gorgeous, and that was probably extra intimidating to guys. At least, that’s what Nonna said. “Beautiful girls need confident boys,” she’d said. “Not so many of those around, bella.”

  “He doesn’t really seem like her type,” I said. Mason was a little too angst-driven for Gena, who was the perkiest non-cheerleader you’d ever meet. Mason was in the drama club and took it way too seriously. If I had to hear one more of his lectures about “the craft of acting,” I would kick him in the shins.

  “She’s attracted to the damaged ones,” said Becks. “She thinks she can fix them.”

  “Mason isn’t broken,” I said. “He’s just serious. He never smiles. It’s strange.”

  Becks smiled. “Says the girl who makes zombies.”

  “Ha.” I took her by the shoulders and looked up into her eyes. “Truth. How does the party rate on the Mina scale?”

  “Hmm,” said Becks. “Too early to tell, but the arrival of football players, the cool music and the to-die-for food...yeah. It’s heading toward a solid six.”

  I nodded. The Mina birthday scale was hardcore. Here’s the deal:

  Last May, Mina Hamilton had had a blowout for her Sweet Sixteen. Not only had she gotten a snazzy Corvette, but her parents had allowed alcohol. Sorta. They left the house for the whole night and let Mina and her friends do whatever they wanted. That’s the gossip, anyway. I wasn’t invited, so I don’t know what really happened. I just lapped up the rumors along with everyone else.

  “You can let go of me.”

  I was still clutching Becks, so I let her go. “Sorry.”

  “It’s cool. I know you’re dying to see if Rick made it yet.” She grinned at me. “Go on. I’ll do a food and drink circuit, make sure everyone’s stuffing their faces.”

  “Thanks.” I walked through the living room, scanning for Rick. I felt like I’d swallowed a sack of rocks. What if he didn’t come? What if he was teasing me about that kiss? What if—

  Chills crept down my spine.

  Ever since I’d woken up from that fitful rest, I’d felt different. It was a subtle feeling, though. More like a hushed expectation—you know, like that creepy silence before a bad storm. Nobody had said I looked any different, and I hadn’t noticed any manifestation of über powers. I wasn’t sure that Anubis had granted me gifts—I mean, the dream seemed so fuzzy now. But maybe they hadn’t kicked in yet. Or maybe I was way too concerned with dreams and destiny.

  Still, the chill didn’t dissipate. To my left, I saw a flicker of black. When I turned to look, nothing was there. But I could feel something. Someone. Frowning, I stepped into the empty space...and felt as though I’d fallen into a snowdrift. It was like standing in the Arctic Circle.

  In the blink of an eye, I saw a boy leaning against the wall.

  His eyes, the amber color of Nonna’s sun tea, filled with surprise. For a second. Then his expression blanked.

  I looked him over, head to toe. His chocolate-brown locks brushed his shoulders. His face was angular, his lips a slash of angry red. His T-shirt, jeans and sneakers were all black. Usually, one-themed looks totally didn’t work, but for him...yeah. Black was the new hot. He crossed his arms, which showed off his muscles big-time. It also tightened his T-shirt to reveal the flat plane of his stomach. He couldn’t have been much older than me...maybe a year or two. Was he a senior? I didn’t remember ever seeing him before.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “You can’t see me.” The voice whispered over me. I’d been around enough zombie-making magic to know how it felt. And his command held magic. Oh, no, he did not. What kind of necro-idiot tried to use his mojo on a living person? Did I look like a corpse? No, TYVM.

  “Hel-lo,” I said, irritated. “I’m looking right at you.”

  One chocolate eyebrow rose. He studied me, taking in my red short-sleeved cowl-neck top, faded blue jeans and black peep-toed shoes. Hmm. Was I imagining it, or was his gaze lingering on my cleavage? His eyes meandered back to mine. “You’re new.”

  “I’m new? I’m standing in my own house, where I’ve lived my whole life.”

  He looked at me, one eyebrow raised, his gaze assessing. “Definitely new. And mortal, too.”

  “Mortal?” I asked. “You mean like every breathing human being on earth?” Sheesh. I didn’t know him, but that didn’t mean much. Some of the people I’d invited had brought along friends who attended different schools. I couldn’t quite get over the weirdness that he seemed perplexed by the fact I was an actual human being. He peered closer, as if doing so might give him a better view of my so-called mortality.

  “This is...unexpected,” he said.

  He was kinda creeping me out, especially the way he was looking at me—as though I was some kind of science experiment gone terribly wrong. I put my hand on my hip. “So, who are you?” I asked.

  For a moment, he looked like he wasn’t going to tell me. Then he said, “Rath.”

  “Rath?” I know I looked skeptical because...c’mon. Rath? Who names their kid Rath? “I’m Molly.”

  “Molly. Never met anyone like you. You’re odd.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I was so stunned by his comment, I couldn’t make with the words. Then Rath looked around, his expression tense. “This is my show tonight, rewbie. Got it?”

  What was he talking about? And what was a rewbie? The derisive tone he used suggested he wasn’t calling me a pretty gem. I snapped my mouth closed. “My house, remember?” I pointed to myself. “Birthday girl.”

  “Well, I’d say happy birthday...” He shrugged. “But it’s not gonna be particularly happy.”

  “Rude much?” I asked, stung by his prediction.

  “Truth is truth, brown eyes.” He eyed me. “How about I just say congrats?”

  “Gee, thanks.” I layered on the sarcasm, but he wasn’t fazed by it.

  Rath cocked his head, his gaze going distant. “Finally.” He tapped my nose. “Watch and learn. And don’t get in my way.” He moved past me, taking the glacial air with him. I found myself standing alone near the foyer, shivering. Watch and learn what? I had no idea what the guy was talking about. Too bad that in his case, cute meant cray-cray.

  The front door opened. The rocks that had been tumbling in my stomach sank all the way to my toes and anchored me there.

  Rick stood in the doorway.

  And beside him, possessively clutching his arm, was Mina Hamilton.

  Rick had brought Mina? My heart kicked into overdrive, and I felt my face go hot. So. Embarrassing.

  Rick shook off Mina’s curled fingers and walked toward me, grinning. He looked happy to see me. The tight feeling in my stomach loosened. He reached me in three long strides and handed me a wrapped gift. “Happy birthday, Molly.”

  “Um...thanks.” My gaze went over his shoulder to Mina. To make my party sooo much better, I saw her two best friends, Danette and Kylie, lurking behind her. Terrific. Rick’s gaze met mine. He mouthed the word sorry.

  Mina and her minions approached, scorn in their gazes as they assessed my house and my guests and my party-in-progress. I felt lame. Really, really, horrifyingly lame.

  “Nice party,” said Mina, her voice filled with contempt. She slung her arm over Rick’s shoulder. “Remember my Sweet Sixteen, Rick? Remember that present I gave you?”

  Rick’s face went red. He pushed off Mina’s arm. “Go home,” he said. “You weren’t invited.”

  Mina was obviously stung by Rick’s response. Her blue eyes snapped with fury. She glared at me, looking all beautiful and rich and vengeful. “Is that true, Molly? Me and my girls aren’t invited?”

  Her voice rose, and the room behind me went silent. The music suddenly seemed too loud. I cleared my throat. “You’re welcome here
,” I said. “It’s cool.”

  “See, Rick?” she pointed out in a saccharine-sweet voice. “It’s cool.”

  She pushed past us and her hags-in-waiting followed her. On the up side, Mina being at my party meant points in the popularity column. On the down side, she would probably do something nasty, or at least humiliating, and I would have to throw myself under the school bus to escape the fallout.

  Not that I’m being dramatic or anything.

  “She just showed up at my house. I tried to shake her, but she followed me here. I’m sorry, Molly. I know Mina isn’t always...nice.”

  Try never.

  “You dated her for a long time,” I said, unable to keep the accusation from my tone. “She can’t be all bad.”

  His face went red again, and I realized that Mina had been a full-service girlfriend. Another wave of embarrassment heated my cheeks. I knew about sex, okay? And I knew that kids my age had sex. But I wasn’t ready to do it. I had to tell Rick, because if he was just trying to get in my pants, then we were over before we’d begun.

  “I can’t be like her,” I said softly. I stared at the present. It was thick and rectangular. A book? Disappointment pricked me. Rick had gotten me a book? “I’m not... I won’t...” I looked up, unable to say what needed to be said.

  He looked around, then took me by the elbow and steered me through the kids to the fireplace. It was the only space that didn’t have people crammed into it. I put the book among the piled gifts and then turned toward him. “Rick—”

  “Mina and I are over. I don’t want her or her poison.” He drew me into his arms, right there in front of everyone (including Mina...nyah, nyah) and leaned down. “I like you, okay?”

  I nodded.

  “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” by Simple Minds started to play. Dad! He’d gotten that damned song into the mix after all. Rick smiled. “Wow. This is old school, Mol.”

  He held me closer and I lay my head on his shoulder as we swayed to the music. Someone turned off the living room lights. The lamps on the end tables were on, but their muted glow barely pierced the darkness.

  Still, I could see Rick lean down, his nose almost touching mine. I’d brushed my teeth twice and refrained from food and drink. Because I wanted our first kiss to be perfect—you know, without Doritos taint.

  His lips ghosted across mine. My belly pulled tight with excitement. I was chest to chest with him. OMG.

  “Sweet Molly,” he murmured. He angled his mouth against mine and I opened for him. My eyes fluttered closed. Tentative, I met the gentle thrust of his tongue. I felt electrified. I clung to him, completely unsure about what I was doing.

  He drew away, just a little, took a shuddering breath and returned. I was pressed so close to him that I could feel how his heartbeat matched the ferocity of mine. I felt awkward and amazed and—

  The lights snapped on. I opened my eyes, blinking, horrified that Dad might have come down to check up on us crazy teenagers and freaked to see me lip-locked with Rick.

  “Mina! No!” Rick tried to push me out of the way, but he ended up projecting me right into Mina’s path.

  The full contents of the punch bowl showered me. Red liquid splattered my face, hair and clothes. Ice cubes fell down my shirt and spun off my toes. Some of the sticky sweet drink dribbled into my mouth. Shocked beyond words, I could only stand there like an idiot.

  “Damn it, Mina.” Rick’s expression was murderous. He looked like he wanted to hit her. I just wanted to melt into a puddle of shame.

  “Oops,” she said in a bored tone. She let the plastic bowl drop to the floor. She flicked an icy glance around the room. No one laughed, which was a blessing. Usually Mina’s cruel humor got all kinds of chuckles—at least at school. But even though the music played on, every conversation had stopped. People were looking at me, at Mina, or at the floor.

  “Smile for YouTube,” said Danette. That’s when I noticed that both of Mina’s friends were using the video cams in their iPhones to film me. I swallowed the knot in my throat and felt hot tears gather in my eyes.

  “That’s enough,” said Rick. He moved to stand in front of me. “Get out.”

  “This party is a yawn fest.” Mina swung her blond hair over her shoulder. “We’re outtie.”

  She and her minions spun on their Prada heels and pranced out. The front door slammed, echoing above the soft drone of the music. Rick looked down at me, fury and regret warring in his gaze. “Mol, are you okay?”

  I managed to nod.

  “Aw, man. Is the party over?” I couldn’t pin the voice, it had drifted from the back of the room. People stirred, looking at me. Some started putting down cups, picking up purses, turning toward the door.

  “No way,” I said, moving past Rick. I pasted a smile on my quivering lips. I really wanted to cry, but I wouldn’t. Mina couldn’t have my tears. “I just need to change.”

  I sensed the hesitancy, the awkwardness.

  “C’mon!” I said, nervous that people would leave. Then Mina would get exactly what she wanted. Me, humiliated and abandoned. “If you go, you’ll miss out on Nonna Gina’s triple-chocolate cake. And homemade ice cream.”

  Stupid, right? So totally stupid to bribe partygoers with cake. I was glad Dad hadn’t made a surprise appearance. Then the party really would be over.

  “I’m staying,” said Rick. He grasped my arm, not seeming to mind that it was covered in punch. “I’ll clean this up, Mol.”

  Cake had nothing to do with keeping my guests here. Rick was just as popular as Mina. Probably more so, since he was likeable. He was staying. His friends, the jocks I’d seen in the backyard earlier, would stay. So, everyone would stay.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, not quite able to meet his eyes.

  Then Rick leaned down and kissed me again. I was sticky and gross, but his hands cupped my face and his lips melded with mine. People laughed, whistled and one joker yelled, “Give her the tongue!”

  We broke apart, grinning at each other.

  Kissing me had been the perfect thing to do.

  When I turned to go to my room to change, Gena and Becks rushed over and met me by the stairs.

  “Ohmygodwewereoutsideandtotallymissedkicking—”

  “Breathe, Gena.” I put my hand on her shoulder. Her eyes were wide and she was panting as if she’d just finished a marathon.

  “We didn’t know Mina was here. We were outside talking to Mason and his friends,” said Becks. “I can’t believe that bitch threw punch on you!”

  “Sucked,” I admitted. “C’mon. I have to get cleaned up.”

  I ran upstairs to my bedroom, and my BFFs followed. I gave them the quick rundown, then I jumped in the shower. While Gena and Becks concocted ways to make Mina pay for her crimes, I got ready as fast as I could.

  Ugh! Every minute that ticked by rattled me. What if Rick decided to leave? And everyone left with him? I got so paranoid I sent Gena and Becks downstairs twice, and both returned with reassurances that everyone was still hanging out. I blew dry my hair, did a quick makeup job and wiggled on another pair of jeans and a V-neck T-shirt that was tight but not nearly as nice as the cowlneck. I hoped I could get the punch out of the material. Stupid Mina.

  “Would you go down first and make sure we still have plenty of food and drinks?” I asked. “I need a sec to just breathe, you know?”

  “No prob,” said Becks.

  Gena gave me a hug, then she grabbed my shoulders and stared hard at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “As long as Rick is still here, I’m perfect.”

  She nodded, and she and Becks left. I stood in the middle of my bedroom and took deep breaths to steady my nerves. Rick had kissed me! And I hoped that he would kiss me again. My stomach squeezed, and I grinned. Then I threw open my bedroom door and yelped.

  Rath was leaning against the hallway wall, directly in front of my door. His arms were crossed. His amber eyes assessed me. An odd tingle coursed through me, which freake
d me out because, hey, I really needed to save my tingles for Rick.

  “You all right?” he asked gruffly.

  I bit back the urge to say, Why do you care? Instead, I shrugged and offered, “Yeah.”

  “He did a cool thing. Your boyfriend.” He frowned, his gaze somber. “It sucks. But you know the deal, right?”

  What sucked, exactly? Mina throwing punch on me? Confused, I stared at him. He didn’t seem compelled to say anything else so I said, “Deal. Right. Um, okay. Thanks.”

  He nodded. The air felt freezing again and I knew it was because of him. He walked down the stairs ahead of me and disappeared into the crowd of kids milling in the foyer.

  I was relieved to see that people were still here. Most had drifted out to the backyard. Some were in the kitchen, and a few people lingered in the living room. Rick and one of his pals—um, Curt, I think—were chatting near the fireplace. The punch spill had been cleaned up. You could barely see the puddle spot on the carpet.

  “Thanks for taking care of the mess,” I said. The punch bowl was gone, too. A couple sat in Dad’s recliner, the girl slung across the boy’s lap. They were drinking out of red plastic cups and giggling at each other. Then they started kissing. I looked away, my face going hot.

  A couple girls I knew from English class were piling up paper plates with appetizers and cookies. They were engrossed in a conversation that had something to do with Taylor Lautner.

  “What Mina did was not cool,” said Curt. He was a big guy—definitely on the football team. “She’s such a bitch.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I just smiled like a deluxe moron and stared at the carpet. Luckily it was a rich shade of coffee brown and stains didn’t show up easily. The stickiness might be a problem, though. Nonna Gina tended to notice things like that.

  Curt flashed me a grin then clapped Rick on the shoulder. “See you, man. Later, Molly.”

  He headed outside. I think he was one of the smokers I’d seen, but maybe not. What kind of athlete smokes?

  “Open my gift, Mol,” said Rick. He turned toward the fireplace.

  I don’t know why he lost his footing. Rick’s eyes went wide as he twisted, falling, his head bouncing off the corner of the stone fireplace.