Confessions of a Teenage Zombie

I stared at Art’s teacup as I waited for him to get back. I slowly pulled the cup toward me, peering into it. I never liked tea. I was more of a coffee and scone type of person. I originally started eating scones because I thought it would make me seem like a classier person, but then I ended up loving them.

I sighed and put the cup back where it was. I couldn’t have a scone ever again. At the very least, it wouldn’t be too enjoyable. The third day I was here, Art had made some cookies, and they tasted like dirt to me. I’m sure it was me, and not Art’s cooking, because Shane swears that Art’s cooking is perfect.

But then, Shane might be a bit biased about that.

I tried some chips a few hours after that, and they also tasted like dirt. It’s not like I actually need food or anything, being a zombie and all, but still. I liked the taste of a lot of food.

I heard breathing, so I turned around, seeing Ryan. He looked sad, but I guess that’s really not unusual.

“Still mad at me?” he inquired, making his way to sit across from me. I arched an eyebrow and stared at him. He sighed heavily. “You slammed my door; I don’t know what I did, but it was probably something bad. Sorry.”

“It was an accident,” I shrugged my shoulders. “I closed it way faster than I meant to. I’m not mad at you, Ryan. No one’s ever mad at you when you think they are.”

“I guess.” He sighed again. I rolled my eyes as he looked around the room. “Where’s Art?”

“He went to get me some make-up so I can go outside,” I explained. Ryan nodded his head and sighed. At this point, I should’ve started getting used to all the sighs coming from him. I don’t know why they still bothered me. I barely knew a thing about him; maybe that’s why it bugged me. Like, why was he so sad all the time? “So… any hobbies?”

Ryan’s eyes widened, and I was pretty sure I hit a sore spot, not that that was too difficult a task with him. He started sobbing and ran out of the room. I’m not sure why I still bothered; two months, and no further progress with getting to know him. I should just stick with getting to know Shane and Art, and try to ignore Ryan and his outbursts.

A few minutes later, and Art was back in with a huge bag full of different types of make-up and brushes. We went into the bathroom, and he immediately started applying a huge amount of concealer to my face.

“You’re the best, Art,” I said, smiling at him.

“I’m okay,” he replied, squeezing some more of the cream onto a brush. Having had sisters, I knew that ordinarily, concealer was never applied with a brush. That kind of made me sad, although it was funny. “Anything exciting happen during my absence?”

“No. Ryan’s crying like a baby again,” I mumbled. Art stopped and stared at me. “I just want to know the guy, and he freaks out if anyone asks him anything. It’s getting annoying, Art. He makes Moaning Myrtle seem like an optimistic bunny.”

“I know it’s hard living with someone you know nothing about, but give him time, Brendon,” Art said. “We all have stories, you know? He doesn’t share himself easily.”

“You know something?” I inquired. I waited for him to give details as he continued applying make-up to my face. When he said nothing, I spoke again. “Art, what’s his story?”

“I can’t tell you,” Art said. He dabbed at the concealer with the brush. “It’s not cool to tell people someone else’s story, you know? When he wants to tell you, he will.”

“Yeah, I guess. Wouldn’t want him crying more when he found out you told,” I mumbled. Art sighed and shook his head.

A few minutes later, Art stood up. He cocked his head to the side and furrowed his eyebrows, holding his chin. He smiled and nodded before stepping back.

“You’re good to go,” he stated.

“Yay, thank you so much, Art!” I pulled him into a quick hug before dashing out of the house.

I looked all around, wondering where to go first. I shrugged my shoulders and took a right. I took in a deep whiff of the fresh air, and immediately started laughing. My laughter was almost maniacal, and an elderly couple across the street stared at me. I waved at them before continuing along.

I looked around, seeing if there were any stores I could go to. I wanted to pick up some clothes; Art had been buying me all my stuff before, and while he definitely made good choices, I missed just getting my own stuff.

The only thing nearby was a Starbucks, and I figured that was a good start for my first day back out. I walked inside, surprised that there were only a few people in the place. Whenever I used to go to Starbucks, the place would be packed.

I walked over to the counter, a huge smile on my face. Even though I couldn’t necessarily enjoy any beverage, I still wanted to look cool to passer-bys. That is totally shallow, but who cares?

My smile faded when the barista came to the counter. My old friend Jon was staring right at me, his eyes widened.

Back when I was alive, Jon was one of my few friends. He was a few years older than me, but he never minded. We used to joke that it was because he was a dirty old man who enjoyed the company of younger boys.

I looked around, trying to quickly think of how to get out of this situation. I don’t know why it never occurred to me that I would probably run into someone I knew. I wonder if Art thought about that, and made it a reason he didn’t want me outside.

“Um, can I get a frappuchino?” I asked, smiling again. I figured that if I played it cool and pretended I didn’t know what was going on, it would all slide. Jon was sometimes a total space cadet.

“Uh, um… yes.” He blinked and turned around to face the huge menu on the wall behind him. He turned back to me. Last I remembered Jon, he was kind of bumming it out and slept on a friend’s couch. I guess he got a job.

It makes sense he’d work at Starbucks; we both loved the place.

“Venti mocha?” I inquired. I usually got the java chip with tons of whipped cream, but I couldn’t do that. Jon would catch on.

“Yeah,” Jon grabbed a cup and started on my frappuchino as I searched my pockets, realizing I didn’t have any money on me. I looked around, wondering if any of the patrons would be willing to pay for my drink. I mean, people at school always wanted to get me coffee. I could use my good looks. “Whipped cream?”

“No!” I shrieked, possibly way too dramatically for the situation. Jon handed me the cup, still staring at me. I had to play stupid and act like I didn’t know the guy, but all I wanted to do was jump the counter and pull Jon into a massive hug. “Are you okay, dude?”

I figured that if I also used different words than I used to, Jon wouldn’t find out. I guess I should’ve changed my voice, maybe made it deeper. Or an English accent would’ve been a nice touch.

Damn, I’m not good when I need to think on the spot.

“You look just like this guy I knew,” Jon mumbled.

“Knew?” I giggled. “What, did he die or something?”

That was totally the wrong thing to say, because Jon looked like he was about to cry or something. I guess my humor went too far. I sighed and looked down.

“I didn’t know,” I mumbled. Jon shrugged his shoulders pulled some money out of his pocket, putting it into the register. “Oh, I’ve got—“

“Nah, it’s cool. If my friend were still here, I’d give him free stuff,” Jon said. He smiled at me. I wanted to cry. “I guess we all have our identical twins somewhere, huh? I guess I found his.”

I once brought up the fact that each person in the world had someone that would look and sound just like them, and it would be their twin from another mother. Or their actual twin from the same mother. I forgot about that.

“I guess,” I smiled at Jon. I had no idea how to really say bye to him, so I just gave him the thumbs up. I kept my eye on him as I walked to a table and sat down.

I took my eyes off of Jon, finally, and went to drinking my frappuchino. It tasted disgusting, but I was fully expecting that. I glanced at Jon, who was serving another customer. Jon was saying something about me, because he kept jerking his head in my direction.

The customer turned and looked at me, blinking a few times. He looked at Jon for a few seconds before turning back to me. The customer looked young; maybe sixteen or seventeen. Not that I could say that was young, of course, being nineteen myself.
I wonder if Jon picked up a boyfriend in the time I was away. I mean, he did joke tons about liking younger boys. Maybe he was actually serious.

I turned to look out the window, because if felt weird to watch Jon muttering things about me. What if he was catching on to the fact that something fishy was going on? My plan for making Jon think I was a completely different person wasn’t that great.

I got up from my seat and dashed out of the building immediately, nearly hitting the door on my way out. I ran all the way back to Art’s, not really caring who saw me running like a maniac.

I slammed the door shut and locked it the second I was inside.

“Brendon?” Shane walked over to me, clad in Superman pajamas. I pulled him into a huge hug, because boy did I feel like Lois Lane right now. Granted, I was actually in no danger, but I guess seeing Jon was just weird. Like, I didn’t think I’d actually run into an old friend.

I knew I’d have to man up if I wanted to go out again, but for now, I was just going to stay home.

Maybe I’d treat myself to some fun and push the notebooks off of Ryan’s desk later.