Chapter 9 #2
He groans, turning to face me. I stand a little taller and stare up at him.
Being this close to Blake, I start to notice things I didn’t before.
The small mole above his right eyebrow. The smoothness of his lips.
A thin scar emerging an inch or so from his tightly trimmed beard.
And then there’s an intensity he holds in his eyes that I think just might be anger.
Maybe I can get him to throw a punch at me.
My dad would definitely kick him out for that.
I shuffle even closer to him, my bust practically touching his body.
His eyes flicker, and the muscles in his neck and pecs flex.
Come on, Blake. Push me. Throw me on the ground.
Touch me with those big hands. Do something.
Give my dad a reason to toss you out on your ass.
He exhales noisily and shakes his head. “Doomsday, I don’t have time . . .”
“It’s Dr. Pearson,” I say with an air of authority, or at least that’s what I’m trying to say it with. I cross my arms over my chest and press my lips firmly together.
Blake glances over at Tessa, as if she’s going to give him any sort of support, but she’s on Team Casey. Always has been, always will be.
“Casey,” he lands on, not respecting my request but making a large improvement over his juvenile nickname. If I’m being honest, I don’t even like being called Dr. Pearson unless I’m at the hospital; otherwise it just comes off as pompous.
“Like it or not,” Blake continues, “we’re going to be bunking together, so . . .”
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three gunshots ring from outside, making their way up through the window and into our clustered trio.
It changes all our demeanors in an instant.
Dropping my arms to my side, I freeze, and my eyes widen with worry.
Tessa’s on her feet and standing next to me, reacting the same way.
Blake turns and lunges himself across his bed to look out the window.
“God dammit!” he yells. He wastes no time, pushing past us and darting out of the room, his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the house.
Tessa and I leap onto his bed and smush our faces up against the window to try to get a look at what’s going on.
There’s a clearing hacked through the trees, giving us a small unobstructed view of the front fence line.
A lone biter is tangled up in the barbed wire, snapping his jaw and swinging his arms wildly in the air.
My cousin Greg stands a mere four feet from it, firing rounds at the creature.
He’s either missing or only hitting limbs.
“What is he doing?” I shake my head.
“Looks like he’s trying not to kill it.” Tessa snickers.
I slide the window open. The screen is missing, so we’re able to pop our heads out and get a better look. Suddenly, Blake appears, sprinting across the front yard toward Greg. He wields a sword in one hand, yelling, “Hold your fire.”
I look to Tessa. “Where the hell did he get that thing?”
“He either picked it up on the way, or he’s a master of hiding long hard things down his pants.” She chuckles.
Thinking back to the night before, the image of Blake wearing only a pair of boxer briefs flashes before my eyes, as well as the bulge that took me by surprise. Part of me wants to tell Tessa that she isn’t wrong, but I save that detail for myself.
With one quick swing, Blake lops the biter’s head clean off. Black sludge sprays and oozes from its neck. The creature’s arms and legs convulse for a few brief seconds before its body goes limp.
“What the hell were you doing!?” Blake yells, his voice carrying all the way back to the house, as clear as if he were in the room with us.
Greg’s hands are animated, like he’s trying to explain himself, but in a normal voice that’s too quiet to hear.
“It was one zombie!” Blake continues at full volume, the conversation being served up in only a half portion for Tessa and me.
Greg continues talking with his hands, with the pistol still clutched in one of them.
“Give me that!” Blake takes the gun from him. “I don’t want to hear it. How dumb can you be? Wasting ammo and making noise that could attract more of them here?”
“Pfft, if he was really worried about loud noises attracting more biters, he would shut up,” I say.
“He can’t do that, Casey.” Tessa looks to me. “Remember, the louder he yells, the more authority he has and the bigger his penis becomes, so . . .” She flips her palms flat up, lifting them up and down to mimic a scale. “Priorities.”
We laugh, while Blake continues to very loudly reprimand my younger cousin.
Greg hangs his head, but I can’t tell whether he’s ashamed of his actions or just tired of being screamed at.
My gaze returns to Blake. The muscles in his back are pumped up and flexed, stretching out his tight white T-shirt.
The bloody sword is at his side, clutched in his hand.
“Blake’s kinda hot when he’s mad.” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I wish I could suck them back in. Objectively, he is a very, very good-looking man, but that doesn’t matter, because he’s a dick.
Tessa slowly swivels her head, her eyebrow already raised. “Are you lusting after the enemy?”
“Absolutely not.” I give her a light shove.
She laughs and pushes me back. “You sure about that?”
“A thousand times, yes. He’s the worst.”
“You’re right about that. You remember that crap he pulled with you in high school?”
I crawl across his bed and get to my feet. “Which time?”
“Senior year.”
I pulled into the student parking lot and hopped out of my truck.
It was the first day of senior year, and I had really grown into myself over the summer—a glow-up, as some would call it.
I was tan and toned from working outside in the sun on all Dad’s projects.
I had learned how to apply makeup and style my hair thanks to a combination of YouTube and Elaine.
The braces were off, and I wore clothes my size rather than a size too big.
Plus, my boobs had come in, and even if that were the only change, any high school boy would still consider it a glow-up.
I didn’t feel any different. I just looked different.
I remember hating that school had started up again.
I dreaded it because all that meant was another year of torment from Blake and his friends.
At least it would be my last before heading off to college.
I couldn’t help but worry, though. What would they call me this year?
What cruel pranks would they play on me?
Would they go out with a bang and try to top all the hazing they had done before?
I was late for first period because I had had trouble getting into my locker.
I thought Blake had already started his reign of terror, but it was just an old, screwy lock that I eventually got open.
I was also relieved to find my locker wasn’t stuffed with canned goods or dirt or garbage or rotten bananas—like he and his friends had done to me several times before.
When I finally made it to first period, there was only one desk open, and of course, it was right next to Blake Morrison.
A mix of nerves and anger made my pulse race.
I hadn’t had a class with him since freshman year, but it looked like my luck had run out.
That class had been absolute hell because Blake embarrassed me every chance he got.
I stood there, frozen at the front of the classroom, until the teacher told me to take a seat.
I didn’t want to, and the awkward tension in the room got Blake’s attention.
He lifted his head, and his mouth slightly parted, like he was surprised to see me.
His eyes traveled the length of my body and then made a round trip before meeting my gaze.
I’m sure I was scowling at him. But surprisingly, he didn’t return it.
Instead, Blake smiled. What scared me was that it seemed genuine.
But what scared me even more was that I couldn’t help but smile back.
I quickly change my top and glance over at Tessa, rolling my eyes as she climbs out of his bed. “How could I forget?”
“You should do it back to him, ya know, give him a taste of his own medicine.” She double raises her brows and smirks. “Could be fun, or at the very least, it could help pass the time.”
“No way. I’d rather dig holes or kill biters.”
“Fine, maybe I’ll do it for you,” she adds with a coy look.
I feel a tightness in my chest, and I tug at my sports bra to give myself some room to breathe. My stomach somersaults, and my heart seems to skip a beat. I grab the glass bottle of water from my nightstand and chug the rest of it.
“You all right?” Tessa asks.
“Yeah.” My head bobs as I force a tight smile. “But don’t do that,” I say.
“Do what?”
“Mess with Blake.”
Her eyes slightly taper. “Why?”
“Because we’re better than that.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Tessa grins. “But if you change your mind, I’m not opposed to taking the low road.”
I match her amused expression and say, “I’ll let you know if I do,” knowing full well I won’t. Blake’s an asshole, but he’s my asshole.