Page 56 of 10 Things I Hate About Zombies

Zoey nodded, looking thoughtful. Then—

‘Hey, it’s Celeste!’ she blurted, pointing at the curvy redhead who’d come strutting in dressed in an outfit that resembled an antique synthesiser: all knobs, cabling and black-and-white stripes. Even her hair had been twisted into cable-like lengths and secured with electrical tape and zip ties. (The local electrician’s union would be very pleased at the cable management.)

Ainsley’s eyes narrowed. Her hand made a fist around the Ro-mayor-O posters, irrevocably rumpling the top ones.

‘Ugh, and she looks good,’ snapped Ainsley.

‘So do you,’ pointed out Zoey. ‘Why don’t you leave your flyers with us before you mangle them into pulp and the whole paper-making cycle starts all over?’

‘No way. I’m not even making eye contact,’ said Ainsley. ‘See? Eyes on smoothies. Eyes on attractive tattooed women. Eyes on the sprinkler system. Eyes everywhere but there.’

Nick and Zoey exchanged a look. Nick remembered how Celeste had lit up at the mention of Ainsley at the art walk, and how the two of them had reacted to each other when they’d started competitively hammering cat signs into the sodden turf down Laurelhurst’s residential back streets.

Celeste passed by, tapping away at her phone as she headed to the stage set up in front of the ice-skating rink, where the Kiwi skaters were spinning about to the dulcet tones of Cannibal Corpse. Nick blinked as one of the skaters did the splits while waggling a forked, snake-like tongue.

‘Ten points for style,’ said Zoey, an eyebrow raised.

Ainsley sighed. Her shoulders slumped as she watched Celeste strike up a conversation with the sound guy.

‘I’m going to hand the rest of these out,’ she said, pretending she wasn’t interested in what Celeste was up to. ‘And my business cards. Who knows – maybe I’ll get some work out of it.’

‘You should talk to Reba,’ said Zoey, steering Ainsley in the direction of the tie-dye tent.

‘Oh, I love Reba,’ said Ainsley. ‘She kept me company while I was setting up the signage last night. Talk about stories! She makes Celeste look boring. Ugh, Celeste! I said her name again! Twice! Zo, make sure I put money in the mustn’t-say-Celeste swear jar.’ She scrabbled in her pocket, coming up with a two-dollar bill. ‘Here. That should cover it. I’m off to think about jumping into the Willamette now.’

She slouched off, heading towards Reba’s tent, the hostess of which was presently demonstrating tie-dyed hacky sacks to a bald guy with a tattooed scalp and earlobes that touched his shoulders.

‘Why didn’t you push her to talk to Celeste?’ asked Nick. ‘She obviously wants to.’

Zoey painstakingly adjusted the smoothie display on their cart, which was absolutely not in need of adjusting. ‘Because Celeste hurt her. It’s like I say … you get to know someone long enough, and eventually they disappoint you.’

Nick swallowed. It hurt his heart to think that Zoey was counting down the days until he inevitably let her down. That she was expecting it. And yes, arguments happened. Miscommunications happened. People hurt each other, whether or not they meant to. But not all hurt had to linger. It didn’t have to mean drawing a clean line and cutting someone out of your life. Forgiveness was a thing. Compromise was a thing. Not always, but it could be.

He touched his fingertips to her back. ‘You know that letting you down goes against every part of my nature, right?’

Zoey nodded, although she was still intent on her bottle- organisation task.

‘But also … it’s never going to be just us against the world. Even if things go sideways, or the shit hits the fan, there are people around us who love us and who want to help. Zoey, I want to be your person. But I’ll never be your only person. It’s not like when …’

‘When I was a kid?’ whispered Zoey.

Nick nodded. ‘Because you can choose your people.’

Zoey turned towards him, her hazel eyes thoughtful. For a moment, Nick thought she was going to kiss him, here, in front of everyone, but then …

‘Wait, is that my hairdresser? I could’ve sworn I saw her earlier. Hey, Nova!’ Zoey waved, trying to get the attention of a slim woman with pink hair who was shuffling along with what remained of the mall walkers after the whole ‘Thriller’ episode.

‘The one who gave you the weird scalp massage?’ asked Nick, trying to be all right with this sudden shift in their conversation. ‘The massage that bordered on fetish content?’

Zoey frowned as the woman kept on lurching along, oblivious. ‘I guess it was someone else. I suppose hot-pink hair and an undercut aren’t exactly distinctive here. Although, if she turned around and flashed a smile I’d definitely know … Oh fuck, here’s Beryl.’

The blue-tinged woman was shoving her walker along the tiled floor with a ferocity that even the ice skaters weren’t able to capture.

‘I want my discounted smoothie,’ she snapped, cerulean fingers digging in her coin purse for the voucher Nick had given her. Putting that together with a handful of quarters on the cart, she shoved the lot towards Zoey. ‘That one … Mind Mush.’

‘Brain Freeze,’ said Zoey, with a smile that said Fucking watch it, or I’ll cut you. She scooped the change towards her change tin, then passed a smoothie to Beryl.

‘Nice nail polish,’ said Joaquin, who’d come over during a break between clients.