Alice in Zombieland. Gena Showalter

the table, Wren said, “After that, you can’t deny you’re interested in Cole.”

      Well, great. I’d been so distracted, I’d missed her appearance. The sharpness had left her, at least; today’s expression soft and happy. But … was that a fringed shirt she was wearing?

      Reeve and Poppy were beside her, the entire group now surrounding me. They, too, looked to be wearing fringe. Had I somehow started a (horrible) trend?

      “No,” I said. “I’m not interested in him.” I was quickly becoming obsessed with him.

      “Oh.” Wren’s shoulders drooped as if she were a flower that had been left in a vase without water.

      “I thought you said I needed to stay away from him.”

      “I changed my mind,” she said brightly, toying with several locks of her hair. “You guys would make an awesome couple. Just awesome.” Now she sounded too bright.

      I wasn’t sure how to take that when I knew she considered him the worst kind of trouble.

      “Ali, Ali, Ali,” Kat said and tsked under her tongue. “Don’t look so forlorn. You’re making the right decision. Cole once ate a pound of rusty nails and claimed it tasted like unicorn tears mixed with fairy dust. True story. I was there.”

      Reeve nodded encouragingly. “I wasn’t there, but I can believe it. I once saw him body slam a teacher for daring to ask him the meaning of X minus Y.”

      “He put the guy in the hospital for three months,” Poppy said, tapping a fingernail against her chin. “Or was that a student he body slammed for daring to give an answer different than his?”

      “Probably both. He’s body slammed enough people to start a new country. And there could be a neighboring city for the people he’s punched in the throat.” Reeve’s delicate fingers fluttered up to her own throat, as if she were experiencing sympathy pains. Then she added, “The last time he did that was the most awesome thing I’ve ever seen,” and grinned. “Oh, oh.” Clap, clap. “It’s still on YouTube, I think. Give me your number and I’ll text you a link.”

      “Maybe Ali will luck out and Cole won’t actually body slam her,” Wren said.

      All the other girls burst out laughing, causing Wren’s cheeks to redden.

      “She’s the first person he’ll body slam,” Kat said with a snicker. “He’s probably imagined it a thousand times already.”

      My own cheeks heating to a lovely shade of red, I made a mental note: Do a search on Cole Holland the moment you get home. Not that I believed even half the things these girls had told me. Still, my curiosity was piqued.

      Even though I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d have my phone, I hit the girls with my digits and took theirs. Thing was, my grandparents probably wouldn’t continue to pay the bill. They were very fond of saying: Why do you need a cell phone when we have a perfectly decent landline at home? I knew they’d forked over the money during the summer months because my cell had been the last thing my parents had given me, and I would have freaked out without it.

      I had pictures of Emma stored in it, as well as her text messages. Even as young as she’d been, she’d had her own cell, too, because Dad had wanted us connected at all times, just in case. And no, I hadn’t looked at a single photo or read a single text; I just didn’t have the heart. Not yet. One day, though, I would. I hoped.

      “Here. Eat this.” Kat handed me half of her PB&J. “If I know my Ali, and I’m pretty sure that I do, you’re going to ignore my excellent advice and make a play for Cole. And if you’re going after someone like him, you need to keep your strength up.”

      “I’m not going after him.” I wasn’t that crazy, was I? “But thank you for the sandwich.” I’d forgotten my lunch and scarfed down the sandwich as if it were manna from heaven. “So … are you guys dating anyone?”

      “I am,” Wren replied. She sipped her bottled water. “He graduated from here last year, and now goes to UA. I usually see him on weekends. He’s premed, you know, and I plan to be a nurse. Once he graduates, we’ll get married and our lives will be perfect.”

      Poppy shrugged. “I keep my options open the first month of school, looking around, shopping really, until I find someone I want. Sadly, there are no leading contenders this year.”

      Reeve tossed her side-ponytail over her shoulder. “No one for me.”

      “Don’t lie to Ali.” Kat wagged a finger at her. “When she and Cole get married in a beautiful prison ceremony, because we all know that’s where Cole will be, she’ll be able to help your cause.” Bright hazels swung to me, pinning me in place. “She’s been crushing on Bronx for two years.”

      Her announcement hit me with the force of, say, a baseball bat. I never would have guessed that one. “But he’s so …”

      “Serial killer-esque?” Kat asked with an arched brow.

      Well, yeah. But like I really had room to judge. Bronx might give off a serial killer vibe, but I was obsessed with the guy he considered his leader.

      “I’ve tried to warn her,” Wren said.

      “Many times,” Poppy added with a nod.

      Reeve was the third girl to blush. She lifted her chin and said, “Bronx has made it more than clear that he’s not interested in me, so what I feel doesn’t matter.”

      As Wren capped her water bottle, she said, “And how many times have I told you that you’re better off?”

      “You really are,” Poppy reiterated.

      “Besides,” Reeve continued, “I’ve decided to say yes to John Clary and go on a date.”

      “John Clary!” Kat, Poppy and Wren said in unison. Then:

      “He’s so perfect for you!”

      “Such a doll!”

      “He can tutor you in math, help you get a good grade!”

      I had nothing to offer. I had no idea who John Clary was.

      As each of the girls launched a million questions at her, the bell rang to signal it was time to head to class. Poor Reeve. She looked as comfortable as if she were standing naked in front of her history class, giving a report on the Salem witch trials and using her own body as a visual aid for the torture.

      I said my goodbyes and stood. When I turned, I bumped into someone. I muttered an apology, my hands flattening on a hard chest as I sought to regain my balance.

      Whatever I’d meant to say next died a quick death the moment I realized my hands were on Cole Holland.

       My hands were actually on Cole Holland.

      I looked up … up … up … and there he was. I inhaled sharply, caught the scent of sandalwood and almost moaned. He smelled just like he had during the … Oh, sweat heaven. Was this a hallucination, too? Here, now? I dug my fingers into his chest. He was solid, warm. Which meant … this was real. This was happening.

      A gasp left me, and I tried to jump backward only to bang into the table bench. I couldn’t dart forward. He was too big, caging me.

      My stomach started performing stupid backflips, decided that wasn’t enough, and next gave a full-on circus trapeze act.

      “Well, well,” Kat said with a little too much glee. The other girls frowned at Cole before scurrying off. “You here to walk Ali and me to class or what, big boy?”

      A muscle ticked in Cole’s jaw, a sure sign of sizzling anger, blatant aggression, and—I could have been imagining here—that he hoped to one day be the heavyweight boxing champion of the world.

      “Well?” Kat prompted.

      “Ali.”