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He surprised her by rolling his eyes. “Hardly. But at least it’s not hot here. I detest the heat.” His pointy nose crinkled.

  She had to smile. He was just so strange, but in a way that she could still appreciate.

  Before she could answer, her weird headache came back, followed by that odd pulling sensation. Her attention was drawn to the back of the cafeteria. The guy she’d smacked into was there, by himself at a table, with just a bottle of water. He wasn’t looking at her—or anything else for that matter. Instead, his brow was drawn tight and he was glaring at the table as if it had offended him. Every little while, he would gulp the water.

  Someone cleared their throat. It was Peg.

  “Grayson Patch,” she said, inclining her head toward him as she bit into her sandwich.

  Cori was still staring at him.

  “He’s bad news,” Peg continued. “Unless, of course, you’re into the bad boys. Then he’d be right up your alley. But I get the feeling he’s not really into high school girls.”

  “Or girls at all,” Rex added.

  “Or people, period.”

  “What do you mean?” Cori asked, distracted.

  “He’s what you would call a loner,” Rex explained. “A recluse. As antisocial as one can be while in high school. It’s quite possible that he hates everyone and everything. Including himself.”

  Well at least it isn’t just me, Cori thought.

  “I, uh, bumped into him in the hallway.”

  Peg’s eyes got wide. “Really. And you still have your head?”

  “Yeah. Barely.” Cori laughed nervously. “Do you think I should try to apologize again?”

  Peg and Rex exchanged a pitying look.

  “Doll, it wouldn’t matter if you apologized seventy times seven. He still would hate you—as he does everyone else,” Rex told her.

  Cori pressed her lips together.

  “Aw, don’t worry about it,” Peg said, patting her on the back. “He’ll hate someone else by the end of lunch.”

  Cori sighed. She didn’t want him to hate her.

  “Maybe he’s just misunderstood,” she tried.

  There was a pause. “Oh, good. You’re an optimist. We needed one of those around here,” Rex said with a grin that managed to be both friendly and sarcastic at the same time.

  Peg turned to glare at him. “What are you talking about? I’m an optimist.”

  “No, Peggy, you are a realist.”

  Peg’s face transformed into a scary mask between one blink and the next. “If you ever call me Peggy again, there will be hell to pay…Rexy.”

  Rex turned white. “Point taken.”

  Peg shifted to Cori again, her face returning to normal. “We’ve been friends since we were in diapers. Sometimes the names slip out.”

  Cori nodded. So they were friends and not more. Good to know. But she wondered if there was a story there.

  “Listen, it’s real sweet of you to think of Grayson like that…but he really is just a meanie, Cori. You’ll see.”

  Cori let it go and finished her salad.

  She decided she really liked Peg and Rex. They were different, like she was, and they were fun. But she couldn’t get Grayson Patch out of her head. She knew people like him only acted hateful because they were miserable. It was a way of coping. So what was his problem? His real problem. Why was he so unhappy? Maybe she could help him somehow. It was just her way to try to fix things—especially the things that seemed unfixable.

  “I think…I think I’m gonna try to talk to him,” she mumbled.

  “Um, okay.” Peg seemed truly puzzled.

  Cori stood. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

  After she dumped her tray, she wandered over to Grayson’s table. He didn’t look up when she approached.

  She cleared her throat, more for courage than to get his attention. “Um, hi.” He glanced up and then back at the table. And whether it was his action or that she needed more to eat, vertigo hit her hard. She steadied herself with one hand on a chair. “I just wanted to say sorry again for running into you in the hall, and make sure you came through unscathed. No textbook injuries, right?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Those things can be dangerous. I swear one of them weighs ten pounds.” She laughed nervously.

  He remained silent.

  “Uh…you’re Grayson, right?”

  Slowly, he lifted his head and stared up at her through slitted eyes.

  “Y-You never told me your name,” she sputtered.

  “I never told you because I didn’t want you to know it.” He spit his words as if they were weapons. Darts. Her face, the bull’s-eye.

  “Oh. Um, well…Peg told me.”

  “Did she? How precious,” he sneered. “Do me a favor, shortcake. Go away and leave me alone.”

  Cori remained right where she was. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she refused to be ordered around by a stranger. Or maybe because she didn’t think he really wanted to be left alone.

  “Are you deaf as well as clumsy?”

  She shook her head.

  “I said. Go. Away.” His face was cruel, which made it so much more disturbing that it was also beautiful.

  “Okay,” she said softly. She hated sounding so timid, but that’s exactly what she was. The fact that she’d found it so easy to walk over here and initiate a conversation was a complete mystery. But now her courage was gone and she felt like crawling under a rock.

  Cori walked away as fast as she could and didn’t look back.

  Chapter 5

  Using the Useless

  GRAYSON WATCHED CORI GO and he was more frustrated than ever. He didn’t have much time to think about it, though, because Peg Matthews was beelining it for his table.

  “What did you do?” she hissed.

  He just looked at her. He didn’t owe her any explanations.

  “What did you say, huh?”

  Still he didn’t respond. Why bother?

  “You listen here, Patch, that girl is sweeter than sugar. She’s probably in the bathroom now, crying her eyes out. What’s your problem anyway? Someone piss in your Cheerios this morning?”

  He didn’t eat Cheerios. Couldn’t. Meat only. And raw. But someone should invent zombie cereal. Meat chunks in a bowl with water. It could work.

  Peg threw up her hands in a frustrated gesture. “Just…be nice. She’s used to nice. I can tell.”

  With that, she stomped off in the same direction as Cori.

  What she really meant was Cori was timid and fragile. Fragile like most humans. And she was right. She probably was off crying somewhere. Which was just fine with him. She should toughen up. The world didn’t get any easier from here on out.

  Part of him though, a tiny, miniscule part, hoped she wasn’t crying because of him. After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong. Yes, she was a disappointment, but that wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know that he had practically bet his life on her—sight unseen. That was all on him. His fault. And now, at least she would get to live.

  The way he figured it, that was a good thing because those eyes weren’t meant to see the inside of a coffin. Hearts and flowers and butterflies maybe. But never a grave.

  Grayson dreaded going home after school. So he didn’t. Instead, he went to his favorite place: the cemetery, known to the locals as Stonehenge. He liked it there because it was peaceful. Something about the dead staying dead comforted him—to rest in death was only an figment of the imagination for him and his kind.

  His favorite place of all was beyond the rows of headstones. A thick strip of trees lined the outer edge of the farthest lawn, and if you walked through them you could find your way to the river.

  It was solitude.

  Quiet.

  And best of all, wet.

  Glancing around to make sure he was really alone, Grayson stripped down to his shorts and jumped into the cool water. Immediate relief, as if his skin cells were drinking through a straw. He floated on his back, ever
ything except his eyes, nose, and mouth covered in cool liquid bliss.

  As he stared at the overcast sky, his mind was finally calm enough to think rationally about the events of the day.

  He wished things could be different.

  Like, he wished he hadn’t been so mean to Cori. And he wished he could’ve just looked at her and known the answers to becoming human again. He wished that nobody had to die to get him there. Most of all, he wished he didn’t hate being a zombie so much. Maybe then he could just live out his existence like Leiv and Raina, more or less happy. If only he could be satisfied with the life he’d been given…if you could even call it a life.

  His thoughts drifted to Cori.

  Her eyes…they were so…what? Beautiful? No, he didn’t want to use that word. Intriguing? Yes, but that wasn’t enough. Stunning? Again, yes. But still not adequate. Magical? Yeah. That was it. They were…magical.

  Grayson didn’t believe in magic either—he didn’t believe in much—but Cori’s eyes were magical in some way. Mysterious and puzzling and altogether unsettling.

  But so what? So there was one spectacular thing about her. Everything else was painfully normal. Well, she also had that tinkly musical voice.

  But still.

  How was she supposed to help him? Pretty sure none of the Oracles’ trials involved singing or eye modeling.

  When darkness fell, he climbed out of the water and dressed. He was quick and he went through the woods so he was home in record time. Just as he feared, his brother and sister were waiting barely inside the door.

  “How was it?” Leiv asked at the same time Raina said, “Did you talk to her?”

  Grayson went past them and into the kitchen where he started in on a jug of water. They both followed.

  “Gray? Was she there? Did you meet her?”

  “Yep.”

  Leiv’s whole face lit up. “Awesome, bro! What do you think?”

  He forced himself to look his brother in the eye. “She can’t help me.”

  He hated the way Leiv’s face suddenly became a shadow. And he couldn’t even look at Raina.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice sounding broken.

  “I mean just what I said.”

  “Well, describe her.” Raina’s expression was one of confusion, her perfectly plucked eyebrows dipping low.

  Grayson swallowed more water and it rebelled going down.

  When he could speak, he said, “She’s a tiny little thing, timid and frail. She’s shy, quiet. She isn’t strong enough to deal with zombies, let alone save one. She’s just…weak.”

  Leiv and Raina were stone quiet. And then his sister’s eyes got all misty and a sad little smile found her lips. “She is perfect for you, Gray,” she whispered. “She could make you happy, I know it.”

  Perfect for him?

  He looked at her like she’d lost her mind. Anger welled up, and he was completely helpless to stop it. “What are you talking about, Raina? You act like she’s supposed to be my girlfriend or something. I’m not looking for love. I’m looking for a way out. I hate living like this. Despise it!”

  He was seeing sepia again. For the second time today his fury had turned his world sick shades of brown. He could feel the veins in his eyes constricting.

  “Grayson, calm yourself!” Leiv had lost his normally jovial tone.

  Grayson turned to the sink and braced his hands on the counter. His breathing was hard and a furious growl was rising in his chest. He just let it come because it was nearly painful to stop it. The gnarled, desperate sound thundered through the kitchen. When he was done, he hung his head and waited for the rage to leave his body.

  It did. Eventually. What replaced it was a sinking sense of reality.

  “She cannot save me. I am just as doomed as the both of you, and that’s the truth of it. I’ll be in my room.”

  He left them staring after him as he struggled to keep his temper in check.

  In his room, he went straight for the bed, not bothering to kick off his boots first. He didn’t even know who he was angry with, or why exactly. Or even where all the anger was coming from. But there was so much of it inside him, he felt like he could blow. He had to get a grip. Breathing was the key. In and out, steady.

  He must have lain there for hours, staring at the ceiling. Eventually, there was a knock on the door. It was Leiv.

  “Hey, bro. You hungry?”

  Grayson sat up. “Yeah, a little.”

  Leiv was carrying a platter-sized plate of several different cuts of steak. Another plate held half a chicken and several pork chops. All raw. The scent of the bloody flesh wafted over to him, and his stomach responded with a fierce growl.

  They ate in silence, and when it was all gone, Leiv finally spoke. “You can’t give up yet, brother. You’re looking at this all wrong. Instead of hating yourself for what you are, try giving who you are a chance.”

  What did that even mean? Leiv was much, much older than Grayson. And wiser. He was ninety-four years from rising and nearing the Age of Deterioration, which, for most zombies, took place sometime around the hundred-year mark, give or take a few years. He still had some time. Grayson hated to think of what life would be like without him.

  “Tell me about the girl,” he said.

  “I told you. She’s basically useless.”

  Leiv gave him an awful look. “No being is useless, Gray,” he admonished. “Now, you told me all the things that are wrong with her. Tell me something good about her.”

  Grayson didn’t want to. Didn’t want to think like that. It was a waste to.

  “She’s very…plain.” Liar.

  “Oh, really.” Leiv raised a skeptical eyebrow. The pierced one. The stud glinted in the light, reflecting the blue walls of the room, and reminding him of Cori’s eyes.

  “Yeah.” Big fat liar.

  “But—”

  “But nothing.”

  Leiv narrowed his eyes. “I can read you, little brother.” Grayson stared at him with a blank expression. “Come on, stop trying to be tough. Tell me what you like about her. Or are you just looking for a reason to discard her?”

  Suddenly he couldn’t face his brother any more, so he got up and began pacing the area in front of his bed. There wasn’t much room, but it was better than sitting under Leiv’s scrutinizing gaze.

  “What does it matter? I’m not supposed to like her. I’m supposed to use her. Isn’t that how it works?” It made him sick inside to say it, but it was the truth. If by some chance he succeeded where no one else had, if Cori stood any chance of passing the tests, and if he discovered the secret to the life-for-life stipulation…he would no longer be a zombie, but he would certainly be a monster.

  He couldn’t stand to think about it, so he blurted, “She has these eyes—they’re honest. Open. Like they don’t have any secrets. They’re just…they’re clean, you know?”

  He kept pacing.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw his brother nod and instantly wished he hadn’t said anything.

  “What else?”

  “Nothing else. That’s it.”

  Leiv was silent. Which was annoying.

  “Oh, fine.” He shouldn’t say it. He shouldn’t. “There’s something…nice about her. She’s just, you know…nice.”

  “Caring. You like that.” Leiv made it a statement instead of a question, so Grayson didn’t answer. He did like that. But he equally hated it. Despised everything about her, really, because she couldn’t be nice or caring or pure and still save him.

  His brother got right in his face. “Don’t give up, yet. She can still help you. I know how miserable you are. I know because I was right where you are once. It is possible for you to be happy, little brother.” His big hand landed on Grayson’s shoulder. “You simply have to wait for it.”

  He really didn’t understand his brother.

  “Leiv, can the old ones be wrong?” Maybe this was a mistake and his Save was someone else. Someone more suitable.
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  “No. Never. She is the one who was meant to help you, Grayson.”

  When he was alone again, he sank down on the bed, exhausted. This day had really taken it out of him. He didn’t want to think any more. He just wanted to sleep.

  And so he did.

  Chapter 6

  The Newer New Student

  CORI RUSHED HOME AFTER SCHOOL, even knowing her mom wouldn’t be there. She’d be working late, of course—it was her way of coping. Cori couldn’t blame her really. She had a way of coping too: sleep. And besides, her mom didn’t truly know how hard Cori was taking everything. She’d done well at hiding it.

  Truth was she missed her dad like crazy. So bad it made her throat burn and her head pound with repressed grief. Everything reminded her of him. Movies they’d watched. American Idol. Fried chicken. The sound of a door closing. It made doing anything hard. Except sleeping.

  Ready to ignore life, she went straight to her room and collapsed on the bed. Sleep was the great eraser of all things bad. She knew that if she could fall asleep, she could be numb for a while. Eight hours was what she was aiming for.

  It took only a matter of minutes for her brain to shut down as she fell fast into a state of mindlessness that she was oh so thankful for.

  But things didn’t go exactly the way she’d hoped. The numbness didn’t last.

  She was dreaming—the kind where you know you’re dreaming. It was as if she were reliving the day. She saw herself walking toward the doors of the school. Then she was inside. She was looking for someone. Who? Up and down the halls she went, searching. Suddenly, she felt that same strange pulling sensation she’d felt in class and again at lunch. She followed it, feeling excited and happy. Funny, but she couldn’t remember feeling that way earlier. Finally, she came to a stop and looked around.

  Icy fear came over her when she realized she was looking at herself through someone else’s eyes. She watched as she dumped her backpack in her locker and turned to talk to the snobby girl. The train wreck kiss. Coach’s whistle. She saw Peg standing off to the side and knew what was coming next.

  But then she was overcome with heavy disappointment, a feeling of hopelessness. Whose eyes was she looking through? And why this feeling? The aching heaviness of it was nearly unbearable. She could only compare it to how she’d felt when she first learned of losing her dad. It was awful and ugly and she wanted to run away from it. But she couldn’t. It was as if it was a part of her. As if the feeling had melded with her soul, never to be separated.