Page 26 of 10 Things I Hate About Zombies

‘Goddammit, these glass bottles are weak sauce,’ muttered the shop assistant, as he fanned the front doors as another worker swept up bottles of smashed fragrance.

‘Mind yourself.’ Nick gently looped an arm around Zoey and pulled her out of harm’s way. ‘You don’t want to be smelling like a Woodsman or a Grizzly Bear Hug or something else dreamed up by the hard-working copywriters at Wieden+Kennedy.’

Zoey’s immediate instinct was to pull away – she could handle herself, after all. But Nick’s arm felt so certain, so sure against her. Perhaps she should accept the help. Just this once.

She allowed herself to sink into the strength of him, be guided down the gum-spattered street between the rainbow vendor tents and the milk-crate guitarists. So many milk-crate guitarists.

‘Do you think there’s a shop that sells both milk crates and guitars?’ suggested Nick, as he reached into his pocket for some change for the buskers.

‘There’s one next door to Reed College.’

‘Location, location. Meanwhile, I had to go to two different shops to procure my milk crate and guitar.’

‘Did you also have to walk seven miles to school?’ Zoey had to speak up to be heard over someone in a blow-up unicorn suit playing a piano accordion.

‘Trudged. I trudged seven miles to school.’

‘Same,’ said Zoey. ‘My dad wasn’t the best about getting up in time to take me.’

Nick shot her a sidelong glance, but didn’t pry further. Zoey appreciated this: too often people refused to let the conversation move along until they’d shaken the clock of your childhood trauma to figure out precisely what made you tick. Zoey hadn’t had a bad childhood, but it hadn’t been a great one, either. She’d spent most of it fending for herself.

‘Still, I’d mastered the perfect mac and cheese by age six,’ she added.

‘A mac and cheese prodigy.’ Nick pretended to be awed. ‘I’m just grateful that you were allowed to have a normal childhood instead of being forced to pursue your mac and cheese PhD aged twelve.’

‘Grateful, huh? About cheese?’

‘Boo, boo,’ said Nick. ‘Terrible. I’m revoking your pun card.’

‘Speaking of cards,’ said Zoey. A mime had thrust a card at them, making a sweeping gesture that only those fluent in mime could possibly hope to guess. ‘Um. Turning people into stone with our Medusa hair? Was I close?’

The mime shot her an offended look, then stomped off.

‘He was miming a poetry-reading session, you goose,’ said Nick.

‘I know,’ admitted Zoey, with a grin. ‘I just hate mimes. I had a roommate who studied at the mime school in Paris. Absolutely insufferable. Cried silent tears when you were particularly mean to him. However, I do love awful poetry readings. Can we go? Unless there are mimes.’

‘This is why I love Powell’s,’ said Nick. ‘No awful poetry readings. Just rooms and rooms of floor-to-ceiling shelves.’

‘Which room is your favourite?’ asked Zoey curiously. ‘No wait, let me guess. Blue room, specifically the small-press section, but partly because it’s near the westerns.’

Nick chuckled. ‘It’s the plaid that’s giving it away, huh.’

And the beard. It had a small-press woodsman vibe to it that was inspiring some inappropriate thoughts. Perhaps she should run back to the hipster cologne shop and pitch Small-Press Woodsman to them. They could split the profits.

Nick shot her a thoughtful look. ‘My turn. You’re the Pearl Room, with that rare-books section all encased in wood. Although you’re mostly there for the first-edition Moomins.’

Zoey grinned. He wasn’t wrong about the Moomins. ‘And the coffee shop. Especially when it’s cold and the windows are all fogged up. Although I tend to end up at the Hawthorne location. It’s closer to my usual haunts.’

‘Hey, doggie.’ A curvy woman with a fiery red mane paused to greet Alice. ‘Wait, Zoey? Babe, you’re looking great. Love the new hair.’

‘Celeste! How are you?’ Zoey allowed Celeste to embrace her then add a few air kisses to the mix. Two? Three? She could never remember what the ideal number was. ‘Nick, this is Ainsley’s ex, Celeste. She’s a musician. She helms the Wall of Knobs?’

‘You don’t have to insult the poor woman, Zoey.’

Zoey was about to explain herself until she saw Nick’s eyes twinkling. Right. ‘So you’re familiar.’

‘I’ve seen you lot down at the Crystal Ballroom a few times. Cool sound.’