Confessions of a Teenage Zombie

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. Jon was right; my face did look like shit. The concealing makeup looked like it had started to smear, showing some of my natural zombie coloring. Under my eyes, I looked like hell.

Had I been sweating horribly or something? Maybe that hit from the car did it. Either way, this wasn't exactly going to go smoothly. I took my phone out of my pocket and dialed the number to the house.

"Hello?" It was Art, the guy I was hoping for.

"Art, oh my god, I need you now!" I whined. He didn't say anything; he was waiting for me to give him an address or something, probably. Either that, or he just wanted an explanation. Knowing him, it was the former. "I'm at a Pizza Hut. Um... Charleston Boulevard, I think? It's the one near my old place. Anyway, my makeup is looking horrible, and I'm with some friends. Help!"

"I'm on my way." He hung up, and I closed my phone.

Twenty minutes later, and Art was in the bathroom. I pulled him into a huge hug. He smiled and sat me down on the counter. I felt bad; I was a complete asshole to him earlier, and he acts like nothing happened.

"I'm sorry I was rude to you earlier," I said. He looked at me and smiled, giving me a hug.

"It's okay, Brendon. I mean, I'd prefer you not get upset at me for something I couldn't fix, but it's not like you do it all the time." He pulled concealer out of his bag and started applying some to my face. "So what happened to get your makeup so messed up?"

"I have no idea, man," I stated. "I got hit by a car, so maybe that did it. I also cried a bit since I went by my old place. Those two probably totally did it."

"How was it?" Art looked me right in the eye. I had never noticed how blue his eyes were. I should've answered instead of staring, but damn. "Brendon."

"Uh, it was sad." I shook my head. If a zombie could blush, I would've been doing so. Art continued applying the makeup. "I knew the place had burned, but I didn't know it was so bad. I wonder if the kitty got out okay."

"Kitty got out fine," Art said. I arched an eyebrow. "Newspaper. The only survivor was the kitty. She was named Pookie, right?"

"Yeah!" I smiled. Knowing the cat got out somehow made me feel really okay. I loved cats. Art chuckled. "So... I'm a little surprised you're not upset I went to my old home."

"Why would I be?" Art cocked his head to the side a bit, probably making sure the makeup was on just right. "You're good."

I got off the counter and looked down at Art.

"Well, I mean, you didn't really seem to enjoy when Ryan and Shane were out doing their thing. Ryan went back home when he left the house." I poked Art on the nose. He wrinkled his nose and blinked twice.

"I didn't enjoy it because they were calling a lot of attention to themselves," Art explained. He took in a deep breath. "I just want you all safe, honestly. I think if you went up to someone and told them you were a zombie, they'd probably put you in a hospital if they thought you were serious. It's just not right. You guys didn't wake up and ask to be the way you are."

"So is that why you take care of us? In a way, you're kind of looking out for the defenseless ones?" I inquired.

"Yeah. Kind of." Art smiled. Why he totally believed in zombies, vampires, ghosts, and whatever other undead creatures there were was beyond me, but at least I understood a little bit better. Art was all for the underdogs, and just wanted to help them step up.

We left the bathroom. Art walked with me back to Alex and Jon. Jon was jamming pizza in his face, which was really gross, actually. I couldn't remember if he ever ate like that. Alex had a slice of pizza on his plate, and he looked like he was waiting ever so patiently for me.

At least he had manners.

"Dude, the pizza's getting cold," Jon said. The pizza in his mouth was just lovely. Now, I know I'd be sad if the situation for me and Jon were reversed, but I wouldn't eat like a pig. He swallowed his food and looked at Art. "Hello."

"He's taken," I nearly hissed it out. Alex kept looking between Jon and I. He bit his bottom lip and arched his eyebrows before erupting in a nearly psychotic fit of laughter.

Probably the amount of tension between Jon and I had eventually broken some part of him down, and instead of making him nervous, he just found amusement in it.

I cleared my throat.

"So, I'm getting over a horrible sickness, and that's why my face looked odd," I lied. I smiled at Art, who was staring at Alex. Intently. Why, I didn't know. "Art's like a brother or something, so he brought me medicine to take care of it."

"Wanna eat with us?" Alex smiled at Art. He got out of his seat and walked over to us. He extended his arm to shake Art's hand. "I'm Alex."

"Art." Art smiled back at Alex and shook his hand. He looked around. "I actually should get going. I have laundry to do, and maybe I should really start cooking dinner."

"You sound like a fifties housewife," Jon said.

"I'm the only one who can cook in the house." There was an edge to Art's voice that I rarely ever heard. I understood why he would be edgy, but damn if I was ever on his bad side. He turned to me and gave me a hug. "Take care, and I'll see you later?"

"Yep." I hugged him back. He waved at Alex before walking out of the place. I sat back down in my seat, and Alex sat in his. Jon watched Art. "He is taken. Really taken. Grossly in love with his partner."

"Dude, are you his partner?" Jon looked at me, an eyebrow arched.

"No, but that doesn't mean I can't tell you're you're probably thinking bad thoughts. Like, you know, you're big enough to jump him." I could be protective if I wanted to.

"Okay, so maybe that was my thought when I saw him walk in, and maybe kind of when you two came over, but not as he was leaving," Jon explained. "Actually, he looked kinda familiar. I probably saw him at the store once or something."

"Probably." I was probably just being rude because I hated that Jon was lashing out at fake me because I looked just like the real me. I shook my head, because I wasn't even thinking well. "Pizza. In my mouth. Now."

"I think I heard something similar to that in a porno once." Jon chuckled as I grabbed a slice of pizza. I glared at him before taking a bite of pizza. Alex also started on his pizza. "Hey, I'm just trying to lighten the mood a bit."

"Your general bitchiness towards me doesn't help it." I didn't want to be mean to Jon, but it came out. I guess I just hated that my best friend was being mean to me. Granted, he wasn't my best friend due to grim circumstances, but still.

Jon looked down at the table. He closed his eyes and sighed before getting up.

"I'm gonna head out for a smoke. I'll be back." He got up and left. I watched as he left the building. I sighed and put down my pizza. It was really gross, and I didn't want to put up a facade of enjoying the pizza.

"He's just going to be like that no matter what. You're fine," Alex said. I smiled and pushed my plate of pizza to him. "Not hungry?"

"Yeah. I had a big lunch." I rubbed my stomach and attempted to burp. I taught myself how to burp on command when I was twelve. My parents didn't quite go for it, but I thought it was pretty damn awesome. Instead of burping, an odd, almost squeaking noise came out. Alex giggled.

"I heard mice don't eat a lot," he stated. He chuckled. When he wasn't being depressing, he was actually funny. It's a shame he had such low self-esteem, because he could go places, I could tell.

I bet if his parents believed he could go somewhere with his singing, he would feel so much better about himself. I think all the kid really needed was some tender loving care, or something, and dammit if I wasn't going to make someone happy today!

And not in the creepy, perverted way, because Alex wasn't legal, and I'd probably end up rotting in jail.

Literally.