An Undead Boy

I'm in school, more specifically the library, waiting for Danielle. So far this morning, I haven't seen Mark and his friends or James with his and although I know that I should be grateful for this, there's a small part of me that itches to catch a glimpse of them. Being so cut off from them now, I just want that sight of them interacting - to know that they're alright - even if Mark has gotten himself mixed up with the wrong people. I wish that their lives never became as screwed up as mine; I'm the cause for Mark and James not talking anymore. I'm the cause for Mark turning into some sort of people-hating psychopath and I'm not okay with that. He used to be so full of energy and jokes and just crazy, wonderful life. I've ruined everything. He's as dead as I am now.

"Charlie? You look kind of sad..."

Danielle is standing in front of me, half concealed behind a bookcase. I hadn't heard her arrive and I don't know how long she has been watching me for. Seeing her makes something click in my brain, a vivid flashback of the nightmare last night. I massage my forehead, trying to banish the unwanted thoughts, telling myself there is no blood on my hands and that Danielle is unscathed and definitely not dead.

"Are you - "

"Yes. I'm perfectly fine." I say, twitching my mouth into a smile. I don't want to tell her about the nightmare.

"If you're sure..." she mumbles, not completely satisfied with my unenthusiastic reply, and perches herself on the edge of the table nearby.

I look up at her from under my eyelashes, slouched low in my seat. In my head - if I were less wise or more brave - I would pull her into me, wrap my arms around her small frame and never let go. I'd tell her about the nightmare, the words would just spill out from my mouth and she'd brush it off, tell me it's fine because she knows that I would never, ever hurt her but I'd still insist that I wouldn't anyway. She anchors me to sanity and I nearly burst into incredulous laughter that a person so tiny can be so, so fierce - that I can rely so faithfully on someone I never knew a few months ago, that no doubts cross my mind when I think of her.

Right now, she's biting her lip, a sure sign that she is deep in thought. I'd give anything to be able to crawl inside her mind, to know what she is thinking - or, to know what she thinks about me.

"What are you - " I start.

"Do you want to - " Danielle blurts.

We both stop, look at each other, and laugh. Danielle's laughter sounds higher than usual, more embarrassed than amused. When our laughter dies, she scratches the back of her neck awkwardly and fixes her attention on the table top. I worry if I have disrupted her when she was trying to say something important.

"Danielle? What were you going to say?" I ask, pushing myself higher in the chair, wanting to look attentive. If I'm being honest though, listening to Danielle isn't very hard. I'm not saying that it's because she talks about trivial things or things that don't require acute concentration but because of the way she talks; her voice demands you to focus on every single syllable, without that arrogant tone of command. She's expressive, from the pitch of her voice to the subtle reactions in her facial features.

"Oh, well - it was nothing. Just silly - "

I raise my eyebrows. "Danielle. Just tell me. Please?"

Danielle has become highly interested in my shoes when she speaks again, something very unlike her. I wonder what has gotten her so twitchy and introverted.

"Okay, fine. It's no big deal but I was wondering if you wanted to come over to mine after school? Today, that is." she mutters hurriedly, now looking up at the ceiling.

I can't believe she is acting this shy about asking me to come over. I don't laugh about it or mock her though, knowing that if I did she would probably never forgive me. Even as a zombie, I know some things have to be dealt with a certain sense of decorum and I don't plan on making her feel any more apprehensive.

"Yeah, it sounds good. I'd love to." I tell her calmly, grinning when she snaps her attention back onto my face. I can't see why she appears so startled by my agreement, surely she knows how I feel about her?

"Really? My parents won't be in so we'll be fine. I just thought, well - friends invite each other over to their houses." she finishes breathlessly, her cheeks flushed.

Even though she is sat away from me, I can feel the heat radiating from her body. It smacks me in the face and I quietly sigh, missing the warmth of human life as I stare blankly at my own bloodless skin.

"I mean - you don't have to come if you don't want to. Don't feel pressured or anything."

Danielle is chattering away, like she thinks that if she talks long enough I will forget that she has invited me over. She must have caught me mourning what I used to be and mistook it for unwillingness to spend time with her. I have to stop being so melancholy around her, it might rub off.

"I want to go." I say simply and she blushes at my bluntness. "It'll be nice to have a change of scenery."

Her responding laugh sounds much like her old self again, gone is the timidity and I'm glad of it. I realise, as she eagerly launches into a recount of her morning, that she readily lay herself out on the line for me, that she exposed her vulnerability. Even when I was alive, I don't think anyone has ever done that for me. I don't think I was really worth that much to anyone before...

"Have you thought about what I said to you yesterday?" I say suddenly, interrupting her story of a boy in her Science class and an incident with a pencil.

She looks staggered by my question for a moment, then her eyes light up with realisation. She's biting her lip again.

"Oh - well, I don't know...it could be risky. I think we should, um - "

I've raised myself from the chair and have already walked over to the table where she is still sat. Casually, I rest my hand by the side of her leg and lean over her; her words have dissipated into inarticulate ramblings, any arguments against my suggestion have gone out the window.

"Let's not go over all that again, Danielle. Can we at least try hanging out in public?"

She ducks her head, tapping the table in a broken rhythm with a finger. I tug on her ponytail tenderly, wanting my answer.

"Well. I suppose we could try - "

I scoop her up and swing her around in my arms, her hands clutching the back of my neck for support. When I stop, she wobbles on her feet, a stern look in her eyes but her arms are still draped around my shoulders.

"But we have to go somewhere else first - I don't want to just walk out with you in front of the entire student body. There's no going back with this. Maybe we can try the cinema or something first."

"Anything. I'm just happy you're agreeing."

Danielle has that sad look on her face again; the one which, for once, makes me glad that my heart doesn't beat anymore because I know it would thump sporadically in my chest at the mere sight of that look, until I felt like I was bleeding from the inside out.

"I don't make any decisions about you lightly, Charlie. This is a life we're talking about."

Neither of us say a word; we're still tangled up when the bell sounds but we don't jump apart or even breathe (I know I don't have to) for a few seconds. Then, Danielle pulls back and gives me a coy smile before taking up her bag.

"Meet me outside the school gates later. We'll walk to my house together."

And with that, she vanishes behind the shelves of worn books, leaving me to stare after her with a crooked smile on my face.