Through the Zombie Glass - Showalter Gena - Страница 8
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I watched him until he disappeared inside the locker room, my heart creating a staccato beat in my chest. Veronica—Ronny—followed him. She paused at the door, and she did look back at me.
To smirk.
Chapter 3
Can’t Go Back to Yesterday
While Kat and I had run the treadmills side by side, and I’d tried not to worry about the vision with Gavin and Cole’s behavior before and after, Nana had been out buying me a big, puffy blue gown. Not from the thrift store. The shiny monstrosity had a lacy corset top, stripes on the skirt and a black hat to top things off.
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be—other than a Southern belle magician on crack.
Normally, I wouldn’t leave the house at night wearing anything with colors. And never anything this fantastical. I liked to blend with the shadows. Needed to. Tonight, however, I was making an exception.
I wanted Cole to see me in something other than the tee and shorts I’d sported the past few weeks, and the workout clothes from this morning. I wanted his eyes to light up, and for him to spend the night complimenting me, unable to keep his hands off me. We’d dance. We’d laugh. He’d kiss me. I’d kick myself for worrying about him and Veronica-slash-Ronny.
We weren’t allowed to fight tonight, but I wrapped a utility belt around my thigh anyway, my daggers hanging from the attached sheaths. I never left home without them.
I wondered what costume Cole would be wearing. He hadn’t said. Well, other than the naughty nurse, but I knew that had been a joke.
I stepped into the dress, hooked everything together and studied myself in the mirror. Not bad. Quite fancy. I wished my parents were here to see me. They’d—
I cut off that thought before it could fully form. I’d cry.
Something warm and wet trickled down my cheek. Great. I was already crying.
My cell phone chirped, signaling a text had just come in. I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand.
Cole McHottie: Sorry, Ali, but making plans w/U was a mistake. I need a break. Stay in & we’ll talk 2morrow
I had to read the words three times before reality set in. He needed a freaking break? Seriously?
From what? I wanted to scream. And what, exactly did “need a break” mean?
My anger and disappointment were as sharp as a blade.
Me: WHY? What’s going on w/you? Respect me enough 2 talk 2 me! Apparently that’s how relationships WORK.
A minute passed. Two, three. He didn’t respond.
I threw my phone across the room, and then had to rush over to make sure I hadn’t cracked the screen.
What the heck was he planning to do on this “break”?
And whom was he going to do it with?
This can’t be happening.
My cell phone chirped. Heart racing, I checked the screen.
Mad Dog: Where are U?
Me, pressing the keys a little too forcefully: Home.
Mad Dog: U ditched Cole??
Me: No. He ditched me.
Mad Dog: UH, HE’S HERE. Just walked in.
Wait, wait, wait. He’d meant he needed a break from me?
Yeah. He must have. He had to know Kat would contact me. He had to know I would find out he’d gone to Hearts without me.
He just didn’t care.
I trembled as I typed What’s he doing?
Mad Dog: He’s talking w/Lucas, Veronica & that hobag Trina & get this: he’s wearing a costume that says he’s a bad mofo—meaning, he’s not in costume.
Veronica again.
Me, grinding my teeth: He told me he needed a break from me.
Mad Dog: WHAT? Oh, I’ll give him a break—in both of his legs!! 1st, of course, I’ll spy.
For the next hour, I received nearly fifty texts from Kat.
He’s talking w/Frosty now.
Just came out of shadows w/Justin S—what’s up w/THAT?? Altho, he just had Frosty kick JS out of club & it wasn’t pretty (4 JS).
Just rubbed his knuckles in2 Veronica’s hair. She laughed, & I almost punched her teeth down her throat (don’t 4get my fighting lesson 2morrow!).
Handed hobag Trina a drink.
Handed Lucas a drink.
Talking heatedly w/Gavin.
Walking away from Gavin (I hate the C-man right now, I really do, but he sure does have a nice butt).
Telling me 2 stop following him.
Telling me he knows what I’m doing & getting ticked when I ignore him.
Walking away as I flip him off.
Telling Frosty 2 control me (like that’s really possible).
Becoming more agitated by the second, I stomped downstairs. I trusted Cole; sometimes I trusted him more than I trusted myself. But that didn’t mean I was going to stay here and let him take a “break” without talking to me about it.
Nana was at the front door, handing out the last of the candy to a ghost, a cowboy and a Smurf.
“Nana,” I said as soon as the door was shut. “This is probably the first time in history a teenage girl will pose this question to her grandmother, but, will you drive me to a nightclub? Cole’s there,” I rushed to assure her. “And Frosty and Kat.”
She frowned at me. “I thought Cole was picking you up.”
“I thought so, too,” I said a little bitterly.
“What about the—” her voice lowered to a frightened whisper “—the creatures?”
“You don’t have to worry. To my knowledge, they aren’t out tonight. And even if they do make an appearance, your car is protected with a Blood Line. They can’t get to you.”
Her smile was sad and affectionate at the same time. “I wasn’t worried about me, dear, but my inability to help you.”
Oh. “Nana, it’s my job to protect you.”
The sadness drained from her, leaving only the affection. “No, that’s not how things are supposed to be, but we won’t get into that tonight. Will there be drinking at this club?”
I wouldn’t lie to her. “Yes, but I won’t be doing any and neither will Cole.” Alcohol impaired judgment, and he took his responsibilities as leader seriously. Me? I’d watched alcoholism destroy my dad and was determined to avoid a similar fate.
“Well, I did buy you that...” She motioned to my dress.
What adjective was she looking for? Ginormous? Unforgettable? Behemoth?
“...unique costume,” she finished, “and I want you to be able to show it off. You look so beautiful.”
“Thank you. But, uh, what am I supposed to be, exactly?”
“Alice in Wonderland, silly. And you’re supposed to give the hat to Cole so he can be your Mad Hatter.”
“So you’ll take me?”
She sighed, nodded. “I’ll take you.”
I threw my arms around her. “Thank you, thank you, and thousand times thank you!”
Fifteen minutes later, I was stepping out of her car, and she was driving away. I approached the club’s entrance and gave the guards at the door Cole’s name. They let me inside without a hitch—if you didn’t count the people in line desperate to get in, complaining about my lack of wait.
Multicolored strobe lights flashed, and smoke wafted through the air. There were people everywhere, each in costume. For the girls, there was clearly a theme: slutty. A slutty devil. A slutty fairy. A slutty witch. I felt seriously overdressed. For the guys, there was no rhyme or reason. A shirt made out of cardboard. A toga with pictures of grinning waffles. Clown trousers paired with riding boats. Loud music blared, fueling the frantic motions of the dancers. I navigated up the stairs to the VIP lounge, the width of my skirt only tripping three people. I considered the low number of casualties a major win.
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