Page 16 of 10 Things I Hate About Zombies

‘Our neighbour Priya is doing this whole rewilding thing, which basically involves throwing seeds over her shoulder everywhere she goes,’ explained Zoey. ‘The sunflowers by the interstate are all her.’

Nick chuckled. ‘I can think of worse hobbies than stealth sunflowering.’

‘Spoken like a mushroom guy. Give me a sec to put these in water and we’ll … do the mushroom thing.’

‘And the fridge.’ Nick gave the box a pat.

‘You really don’t have to. I’ve got it all sorted.’

Nick raised an eyebrow. ‘How exactly do you have it sorted?’

‘I was going to use … a skateboard,’ she admitted. ‘And many, many rolls of duct tape.’

‘I see.’ He leaned back on a heel, trying to see her vision. ‘You’re right. We should definitely do it your way. It’s far more efficient than a dolly and a truck.’

Ugh, she hated it when people were logical.

‘Fine. We’ll use the truck. Just let me put these away.’

Nick peered curiously around the doorframe as Zoey hurried back inside, dumping the flowers in a novelty teapot shaped like a haunted house.

‘Trust me, you don’t want to cross the threshold,’ she warned.

The walls shook as someone was brutally murdered in Winslow’s game. Meanwhile, from beneath Peta’s door came the sharp sounds of a staple gun. These were interspersed with shouts of joy or frustration depending on how her eBay bids were going.

Ainsley waggled her fingers at him from where she was working on sketches for Romero’s mayoral campaign. ‘Welcome to where the dark magic happens.’

‘Temporary tattoo?’ asked Joaquin, who’d emerged from their room and was preparing to head back to their shop. ‘All the cool kids are getting them.’

‘Sure,’ said Nick with a shrug. ‘I’m definitely one of those.’

Joaquin grabbed the kitchen sponge and pressed it to Nick’s arm. ‘You have good skin for tattooing. And good taste in tattoos. Is that one from Remy Maurice in San Diego?’

‘Good eye.’ Nick rolled up his sleeve further to reveal a geometric woodpecker on a muscular forearm. Joaquin nodded appreciatively.

‘You should stop by my studio,’ they said. ‘We’ve just opened on Hawthorne. Hence all the matching temporary tattoos.’

Ainsley showed off hers, and Zoey grudgingly did the same.

‘If we put our wrists together, do we summon Captain Planet?’ asked Nick.

Of course he was into Nineties environmental cartoons. What next? Frog and Toad?

‘Frog and Toad on your door, huh?’ he said, pointing to the framed print over the door marked Zoey. (Courtesy of Ainsley’s sign-painting skills.)

Dammit. No, this was ridiculous. He was not about to go wandering about the house pointing out all of their shared interests. Zoey was hanging on by a thread here. If he suddenly mentioned a passion for the Criterion Collection or Seventies British pop punk, she’d be unable to keep from dragging him to her bedroom.

‘Okay, we’re out.’ Zoey shoved Nick back out on the porch, trying not to notice that he was quite receptive to being physically manhandled. But still. Meeting the roommates was not something one should do on a first … whatever this was. First fridge-moving favour? First mushroom delivery?

First … date? He had brought flowers, after all. Even if they’d been partially stolen.

‘Quite the assortment of roommates you have there.’ Nick squinted as he counted the pairs of shoes by the front door.

‘Those are mostly Peta’s,’ she promised. ‘There’s Ainsley the painter, Joaquin the tattoo artist, Winslow the gamer, Peta the petty criminal and me, the smoothie lady.’

‘Perfect fodder for a sitcom.’

‘You got it. We just hang out on the couch all day and wait for someone to make a dramatic entrance. There’s a laugh track cued up on the Bluetooth speaker.’