Page 7 of 10 Things I Hate About Zombies

Well, he seemed okay.

Mrow!

‘I guess he’s staying under there for now,’ said Zoey.

‘There are worse places to be,’ said Ainsley, with a nod at Winslow’s room.

‘Pee bottles,’ all three roommates whispered, before dissolving into giggles.

‘Although this wine isn’t much better,’ said Zoey. Chugging her glass as fast as possible to avoid the wine touching her taste buds, she swiped at the lime-green paw prints with her sock. (She was one of those people who, no matter how hot it was, always had cold feet.)

‘Maybe we can spray him with the hose so he doesn’t go rancid,’ suggested Joaquin. ‘Is there milk in the recipe, Zoey?’

Zoey shook her head. ‘Thankfully, because no one wants to deal with a roaming rancid milk cat.’

Ainsley made a face. ‘Now there’s a name for an indie band. I could see them playing backup for the Wall of Knobs.’

The Wall of Knobs was a pretentious electronic group helmed by Ainsley’s ex Celeste, who somehow managed to play everywhere in town, despite being objectively awful. It was possible that they were ironic bookings, but really it was probably that Celeste was ridiculously beautiful, all fiery hair and an attitude that absolutely strutted its stuff.

It had been quite the breakup.

‘Yeah, I am out at rancid milk cat,’ said Joaquin, grabbing their helium balloon and heading off to their bedroom. ‘Gotta get in the headspace for an evening of tattoo-age.’

This they pronounced in a dramatic French accent.

‘So … tell me all about this mushroom guy.’ Ainsley jabbed Zoey with her toe as Zoey sank down on the couch, legs up under her as always.

Mrow, yowled Romero from beneath the couch.

‘You chose the couch life, Romero,’ pointed out Zoey, taking the topped-up glass of wine Ainsley had handed her. It was so full it had a convex meniscus.

‘Surface tension, sexual tension … perfect segue,’ said Ainsley, as Zoey sipped off the excess and tried not to gag.

‘I’ve had smoothie requests from Darina that have tasted better than this.’ Zoey angled herself to catch the languid summer breeze coming in through the open living-room window. ‘Anyway, there’s not much to tell about the mushroom guy. Except that he’s extremely hot. Beard. Tattoos. Forearms. And really well versed in mushrooms. Like, articulately well versed in mushrooms.’

‘We stan a mushroom nerd,’ said Ainsley. ‘Or any kind of nerd, really. Does he wear glasses?’

Zoey wasn’t sure. But according to her imagination, he definitely could.

Was it getting hotter in here?

‘I don’t know about glasses, but he does have a dog called Alice.’ Zoey went to the fridge to add some ice cubes to her awful wine. Yes, ice cubes in wine were sacrilege, but the real crime had been committed when someone had bottled this stuff. ‘She’s really cute – a blue Australian cattle dog, with a doggie bandana.’

‘Mushroom bandana?’

Zoey thought. ‘Actually, yes.’

‘Likes dogs. And dressing up dogs.’ Ainsley nodded appreciatively. ‘He’s already better than Kit.’

This was true. Unlike Celeste, Kit didn’t even have the perks of being hot and (arguably) musically talented. He was just … some guy. Some guy who’d somehow become Zoey’s pet project over the years, who somehow shambled through life without ever seeing a consequence. The last she’d heard he’d been thrown a middle-management role at the Nike campus in Beaverton. Someone had seen a post he’d made on LinkedIn, and boom, decent job with actual benefits.

Meanwhile, Zoey was over here running a smoothie shop. Which, although fine and a nice way to honour Maeve’s memory, was not quite the dream job in academia she’d always thought she’d land. But things didn’t happen for Zoey the way they happened for Kit and others like him. Everything she did, she had to do alone. Because the second she tried to lean on someone, even if it was just a little bit, the ground fell out from under her.

Like when her dad had offered to drive her to school in the mornings instead of taking the bus. Within three weeks she’d been facing a suspension for tardiness.

Never again.

‘I think you should ask him out,’ said Ainsley, decisively.