Page 103 of 10 Things I Hate About Zombies

‘I’m putting the shop on the market,’ said Zoey, with certainty.

‘On the market?’ echoed Nick.

‘On the market, huh?’ Reba tugged a dangly beaded earring thoughtfully.

‘Maybe Voodoo Doughnuts will go for it,’ said Zoey, with a shrug. ‘Zombies and voodoo seem like a good pairing. And we both have the vegan thing going on.’

‘Ugh, don’t remind me,’ said Reba. She sipped the Irish coffee she’d carried over. ‘You know, I just might have a buyer for you. You’re plumbed for a coffee shop, aren’t you?’

Zoey nodded.

‘And given the whole zombie thing, you don’t mind if the new owner has a morally grey past?’

‘Don’t all small-business owners?’ asked Zoey. She’d weighed out some difficult decisions in the past, like whether raccoons counted as pests or friends, or whether it was all right to use equipment she’d found out on the kerb.

‘Anyway, they’re a lovely couple,’ said Reba. ‘He’s a grumpy Australian; she’s a theatre type. They have a coffee shop in Brooklyn, but I could see them expanding out here. Sometimes you just want worse weather, you know?’

‘The rain is good for creative types,’ mused Zoey. ‘It sends you into a depressive spiral so that you can create your best work.’

‘Makes for great lighting, too,’ said Gracie, from behind her camera lens. (She was snapping photos of Laurelhurst’s newly minted cat mayor.) ‘You don’t need to do the Vaseline lens thing when everything has a foggy mist to it. It’s like built-in airbrushing. Plus you get that dewy glow from the humidity.’

‘Well, if your Brooklyn people are interested, I’m happy to talk. Because no offence to successful smoothie shops, but fuck this place.’

‘Um, no, not fuck this place,’ said Terriffany, who’d just come in and was sloughing off her backpack. She stooped to pat Romero in his crate. ‘I really like The Smoothie Maven.’

Zoey blinked. ‘You do? But what about the Entrepreneurs’ College in the Mojave? Weren’t you applying for school there?’

Terriffany folded her arms – luckily, for Romero had been about to bite her, although not in a zombie-like way. In a regular grumpy cat way.

‘For unschool,’ she corrected. ‘But this place could be my startup. It’s profitable. And scalable. I’ve been talking about it with my mentor. And also … I think Maeve would like it if I took it over.’

Maeve’s photo rattled on the counter.

‘That was just me,’ said Reba. ‘I bumped the old girl. I think. Although it could be Reba’s Razor …’

‘I think we’ve had enough supernatural weirdness for a while,’ said Nick. ‘Don’t you?’

Reba’s eyes twinkled as she sipped her coffee. ‘Never.’

Bursting into a grin, Zoey wrapped Terriffany up in a hug. All right, so she wasn’t ordinarily a hugger, but this was different. ‘You’d be so good as the owner,’ she exclaimed. ‘Do you want to talk to my guy at the bank?’

Terriffany, who was less of a hugger than Zoey, extricated herself, dusting down her slacks like a scientist emerging from a biohazard zone. ‘No need. I made a good crypto play last month – I’ll cash it out tonight. My mentor’s lawyer can handle the paperwork.’

Oh, to be seventeen and brilliant, thought Zoey. When she’d been that age, all she’d had to her name was a battered Jane Austen omnibus and some grapefruit marmalade a weird neighbour had given her.

Just then, Zoey’s phone rang. Terriffany made a face when Zoey picked it up. (Terriffany only did asynchronous communication, and made a case for why as Zoey spoke.)

‘It’s the shelter,’ Zoey said, when she’d rung off. ‘Romero has his first piece of mayoral business.’

‘Well then,’ said Nick, looping his arm around her shoulder. ‘Shall we get this show on the road?’

Nick and Zoey pulled up to Second-Hand Tails on Sandy Boulevard, a cute green-and-white Art-Deco-looking building with charming animal murals in the windows. Ainsley had done their signage, and it had taken all of her willpower not to come home with an army of kittens.

‘Stay there, girl,’ Nick told Alice, who whined sadly. ‘I know you’d be fine, but the others might get a bit rowdy.’

‘Because you’re such a beautiful girl,’ whispered Zoey, as she hefted Romero in his crate. ‘They’re just jealous.’

Alice’s tail thumped, and Zoey patted her soft head. ‘Back in a minute. Promise.’