Page 102 of 10 Things I Hate About Zombies

‘We didn’t know,’ added Zoey, who’d clocked what was going on as quickly as he had.

‘But I’d do it again,’ said Nick.

Zoey grinned. ‘Me too.’

BUT MOSTLY, I HATE THE WAY THEY MAKE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU

28

Zoey

The Smoothie Maven was in somewhat of a state when Zoey and Nick returned, with Romero looking furious in Alice’s travel crate. While the hordes of zombies had largely subsided, the clean-up from the combined Zombie Shuffle and zombie invasion was an ongoing thing.

‘I thought Portlanders would be better about handling their trash,’ said Zoey, as she picked up wads of green slime and errant socks.

‘It’s unconscionable,’ agreed one of the power-walker moms who regularly strutted up and down the street in Gore-Tex, complaining about minor social and environmental infractions. ‘I’m going to take it up with the Belmont Street Committee.’

‘Is there a Belmont Street Committee?’ whispered Nick.

‘I think it exists in theory, but mostly involves sitting around and eating vegan cheese platters. A bit like the Baby-Sitters Club. Because, really, who’d let a bunch of kids babysit their kids?’

‘Depends how much you like your kids,’ said Nick, with a grin.

‘Evil,’ said Zoey, with an even bigger grin.

‘Wait, is that Romero, the newly anointed Cat Mayor of Laurelhurst?’

It was Nolan, the owner of the zine shop next door. He was loading up his bicycle panniers with the day’s deliveries. He pulled out the Laurelhurst Gazette, a parody zine that covered the local area, and which featured a grainy photo of Romero covered in smoothie gunk and hissing furiously. Cat Nip This! read the headline.

‘Wait, he won?’ Zoey’s eyes widened.

‘In a landslide,’ said Nolan. ‘Although the ferret put up a good fight.’

‘They always do,’ said Nick amiably.

Zoey squeezed his muscular arm, first from excitement and then again for the pure tactile pleasure of it. Damn, what an arm. ‘Nick, we’re the part-owners of a cat mayor! Ainsley is going to love this.’

‘She absolutely is,’ said Nick. ‘Oh, thanks for the punk-rock zine, by the way. The crossword is a great zombie diagnostic tool.’

‘Glad you liked it,’ said Nolan, climbing on his bike. ‘It definitely puts the old noggin to the test.’

Zoey unlocked the front door to The Smoothie Maven, turning on the lights as Nick swung Romero’s cage inside, perching it by the windows. As he did, Reba and Gracie emerged from the retro arcade next door, waving frantically.

‘Oh, it’s morning,’ said Reba, with a yawn. ‘That place is like a casino. No clocks, keeps you there all night spending all of your quarters.’

‘Wow, but Reba is a pro at Tetris,’ marvelled Gracie. ‘My shutter doesn’t move fast enough to capture the magic.’

‘I’ve got that zen in me,’ said Reba. ‘Also, Tetris helps manage PTSD after a traumatic event, and the things I’ve seen on the road …’

‘Not to mention the zombies,’ offered Zoey.

‘Oh, I’ve seen much worse than zombies. But sure, zombies too.’ Reba shrugged. ‘Well, I think we got most of the stragglers. Now it’s just another day of slinging smoothies in the smoothie shop.’

Something twisted inside Zoey at the thought. She wasn’t sure she could bear another day of hearing the Vitamix rev or fiddling with pomegranate seeds or trying to field questions about the antioxidant properties of some super-seed she was pretty sure only existed in comic books.

A different future was opening up for her instead. Going back to school. Working with Nick. Counting the stars in the wide-open sky. Riding along in an old truck with Alice’s head in her lap.

Surely Maeve would forgive her. She’d done her part in carrying on The Smoothie Maven’s legacy.