by Kasie West
My phone rang five seconds later.
“Wow, you’re so personable,” I said when I answered. “A written response would’ve been fine.”
“Sometimes typing it out takes twice as long as just saying it.”
I remembered what Abby had said to me about how I called more than I texted. “I feel the same way.”
“I don’t have your packet. I just had the one that I gave to you, which I didn’t think to document with pictures.”
“Will you do that next time?” I teased. “For moments like this.”
“Of course. I live to serve you,” he teased back.
“I’ve long suspected that might be the case.” I put my feet up on the wall beside my bed. “I’ve been told people give me anything I want.”
“Whoever told you that should’ve kept it to themselves.”
“He really should’ve, because now I’m impossible to deal with.” I tapped my foot on the wall, knowing I should probably hang up but not ready to. “So . . . how’s life?”
He chuckled a little. “Are you bored, Lacey?”
“Yes, tell me more about you. I know you have a younger sister. Any other siblings?”
“No, just me and her.”
“And what do your parents do?”
“My mom is a nurse, and my dad is a camera operator.”
“Like for movies?”
“For a news station right now.”
“That’s cool. I’ve always thought that would be a fun job.”
“It’s not as glamorous as it seems.” Was that bitterness in his voice?
“You’re right. Fun and glamour are two totally different things. Do you not get along with your dad?”
“Not usually.”
That sounded like my life lately. “Why?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re nosy?”
“Yes, actually. But then they answer me anyway.”
“You really are impossible,” he said.
“And yet . . .”
“My dad? You want to know about my dad.”
“Yes.”
“My dad is the type of person who says he’s going to be there, show up for things, and only does about ten percent of the time.” Considering how private Donavan was, I suspected that was hard for him to say.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ve long stopped expecting him to, but my sister still holds out hope, and that’s what makes me angry.”
“Is it because he’s busy? I mean, what’s his excuse?”
“Work. Always work. He’s always trying to get ahead. He takes on all sorts of side projects—short films and indie features—thinking that one day some big production company is going to pick him up, but the odds of that happening are so low.”
“It’s easy to start thinking that something is going to launch a career. I mean that’s what I’m doing: taking on this campy horror in hopes it will send me to the next level.” The now familiar anxiety that accompanied that thought expanded in my chest.
“It’s not the same,” Donavan said. “You’re seventeen. He’s been running in circles at the expense of his family for decades.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again.
I should’ve hung up now, let him go to bed or do whatever it was that he was doing before he called. I sensed he didn’t want to be on the phone with me talking about this. But I couldn’t end our conversation on that note. “What are you doing?”
“What am I doing?” he asked.
“It was a pretty straightforward question.”
“I’m talking to you.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Before this I was writing a review of Sail in the Wind.”
“Oh yeah? Was it good?”
“It was actually.” Two breaths went by, then he said, “What about you? What were you doing before this?”
“I was not getting abducted.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“I know. I got locked out and my dad’s on a date and he leaves keys lying around by the front door. I’m lucky to be alive.”
“Does your dad go out a lot?”
I rolled over onto my stomach and propped my head up with one hand. “That’s a good question. I didn’t know he went out at all, so this is news to me.”
“And you don’t like his date?”
Had I sounded like I didn’t like her? “I don’t know who she is. So, yes, I probably hate her.”
He laughed a little. “I suppose it’s good that everyone starts on an even playing field with you. Even if it means you don’t like anyone in the beginning.”
“So true.” That really was true. How had I not realized that about myself until now? Probably because I was really good at faking it until said people eventually grew on me. But Donavan had obviously seen through that. I took a deep breath. “It’s just I’m . . .” What was I? Was I upset about the date? I didn’t think so. “I actually have the opposite problem as you in the dad department.”
“How so?”
“My dad is always around, always there. And you’d think that would be a good thing, that I would feel supported, but it’s actually the opposite. I don’t think he’s there to see me or hear me. I feel like he’s there waiting for something to go wrong, waiting for my dreams to blow up in my face. And I’m sure he’ll be there to support me then, but somehow he can’t bring himself to actually support me now.” I’d just said all that out loud to my tutor. Why? I was usually pretty open, but only because I didn’t ever share anything important. I wanted to take it all back, I felt exposed. Like I’d let him see some of my insecurities. The one that said: I need my dad to be proud of me in order to feel accomplished. “Anyway,” I said, when he didn’t say anything. “Poor me, right? I get to star in a movie.”
“You’re allowed to feel upset.”
“I’m not, I’m just annoyed more than anything. And I’m happy that my dad is on a date tonight. Maybe it will give him something else to focus on.”
“Maybe,” Donavan said.
“I better go. I’ll let you know when I finish the rest of my packet.”
“Okay.”
“Bye,” I said, and hung up quickly. I buried my face in my comforter. My face felt warm. Why did I care that I’d shared so much with him? We were friends. He told a story. I told a story. We were even. I was just tired. I needed a shower and sleep and then I’d feel normal again.
Dancing Graves
EXT. FOREST—NIGHT.
SCARLETT, who drank the formula but still seems to be deteriorating, stalks an unsuspecting TOWNSPERSON as he and his dog are following a trail through the woods home. Because she has maintained some of her human traits, she is smarter and more deadly than the other zombies, who only operate by instinct. She knows how to hide, sneak, reason, and predict reactions.
TOWNSPERSON
Did you hear something, Pepper? We better walk faster. It’s not safe out here.
It’s too late. SCARLETT has him cornered, and he doesn’t even know it yet.
Twenty-One
“Did you miss me?” Grant asked on set the next day. We still had one more day in the library before we moved on to the lab. And today, for the first time since we started filming, we were shooting my prezombie scenes, so for today, I was human.
“Since yesterday?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Surprisingly, very little.”
He laughed like it was a joke.
“My mom’s cat is named Pepper,” I said.
“What?”
“I was just thinking of that scene where Scarlett kills her first human. The scene we’re filming at the end of the week in the mountains. The dog’s name is Pepper. I just remembered that. It’s crazy that her cat is named Pepper too. It’s a rescue cat and came with that name.” I was rambling because I was nervous, I realized. Today was the day. Today I had to (got to?) kiss Grant James.
“So crazy.”
“You don’t think it’s crazy.”
I glanced over at him and realized he was right next to me.
“You know,” Grant said. “If you were a human all the time on set, chemistry would be no problem whatsoever.” He rested his hands on my shoulders.
I pushed against his chest and rolled my eyes. “And if you were this shallow all the time, you’d have to fight off the girls with a stick,” I said drily.
“Already do.” He leaned close. “Get ready to have your world changed forever.” He said it like he was kidding, but I got the sneaking suspicion that he really believed it.
Remy was going over blocking with the camera operator. Half the time on set was waiting around for something to happen, the other half was repeating the same scenes over and over while the camera shot different angles. It was nothing like theater, where there was only one chance to pull off a perfect performance.
“So hey,” I said, changing the subject because, seriously, Grant really wasn’t helping me at all in the pretending-to-be-in-love-with-him department. “What did you and Amanda do after I left yesterday?”
“Not much. She thought I needed kissing tips. You’ll have to tell me today if I do.”
If I rolled my eyes anymore they might roll onto the floor.
Remy stepped over to the desk behind us. “Did someone mess with the hot set?” The art director scurried forward and rearranged a few items on the desk.
“This has to look exactly the same every time for continuity,” Remy announced.
“We’re missing the ink and quill,” the art director said.
Oh crap. “Sorry, I borrowed it. I’ll go get it.”
I didn’t wait to see Remy’s reaction to that statement, just left quickly. I got to my trailer, found the items, and then leaned against the counter by a mirror on the wall. “Okay, Lacey, you can do this. You may not like Grant James romantically, but Scarlett loves Benjamin. You are Scarlett.” My stomach churned uncomfortably when I realized that wasn’t going to work. “How about this, then?” I said to my mirror self. “Pretend he’s Donavan.”
A small smile touched my lips, and I watched as color came into my cheeks. “Are you happy, self? You finally admitted it. Amanda was right. You like Donavan. Too bad there’s nothing you can do about it.” Aside from my self-imposed ban on boys, Donavan didn’t date actresses. It was just my luck that the first guy I ever liked wasn’t interested.
Back on set, I gave the ink and quill to the obviously irritated art director.
“Sorry,” I said.
She didn’t respond but took them to the desk, where she placed them carefully onto their spot.
“You’re in trouble,” Grant whispered.
“I know. I should’ve told them that you were the one who gave them to me. Nobody gets mad at Grant James.”
“This is true.”
Remy stepped out of the library and behind the monitor. “You two ready?”
I nodded.
Grant said, “So ready.”
This was the scene that took place two days after I was bitten and it was obvious I was slowly turning, just like the others Scarlett’s father had tried the cure on. I closed my eyes and put myself in that situation. How would I feel if I knew that unless my father produced a miracle, I was going to slowly forget the person I liked? How would I feel if I never got to see Donavan again? A surprising weight of sadness settled on my chest. I hung on to that feeling.
“Quiet on set,” Noah called. “Slate in, sound rolling, camera rolling.”
“Scene nine, take one.”
“And action,” Remy called.
“Come here,” Grant said. He took my hand. “Everything is going to be okay.”
I pulled my hand away and turned my back to him. “It’s not. It will never be okay again. I should leave, me staying here, you watching this, will only make it harder.”
Grant wrapped his arms around me from behind and put his face in the place where my shoulder met my neck. “I don’t want to have to live without you.”
“I don’t want to make you live with what I will become.”
He put his hands on my hips and turned me to face him. My arms were trapped between his chest and mine. I let my eyes flutter closed so I could imagine Donavan there, his brown eyes, his lips about to meet mine. His lips on mine. My breath caught and I rose slightly on my toes, pushing my lips more firmly against his. His hands traveled to my back, steadying me. My hands inched up his chest and then gently followed the line of his collarbones.
“And cut!” Remy yelled, startling me. My eyes flew open and our lips separated, but Grant kept hold of me.
He leaned his forehead against mine and whispered, “Wow.”
“That was perfect,” Remy said. “Let’s reset for a wide shot.”
Eighteen times. Between the establishing shot and the mid-shot and the close-ups from each side, that’s how many times I had to kiss Grant James. And as nice and “perfect” as that first kiss had been, we had to replicate it eighteen times. Eighteen.
I walked off set opening and closing my mouth to stretch it out.
“Lacey,” Grant called, catching up with me. “Guess we didn’t need practice after all. We’re kind of naturals at that.”
Was he fishing for a compliment?
“Yeah, it went well.” A smile played on my face. It went well because of Donavan.
He continued to follow me. Where was Amanda? I thought she’d have been watching the kissing scene but I hadn’t seen her anywhere.
“Don’t you have a scene with Lord Lucas right now?” I asked. I was done for a couple of hours.
“After lunch.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll see you later. I have some homework I need to finish.” In my completely hopeful and very optimistic heart, Donavan would be waiting in my trailer. He would’ve read my mind, realized I liked him, ditched school, and come to see me. Then I would . . . I would what? Tell him I liked him but couldn’t date him because I was in the middle of making my dreams come true? Ask him if he’d wait a couple of years for that to happen?
Even if I found a way to make this work . . . somehow . . . I knew Donavan. Not only would he not ditch school and be in my trailer, but he would also never date me. He had a future career to think about too.
I went to my very empty trailer.
My phone was sitting on the table where I left it during filming. I picked it up to see if Donavan had texted. It went straight to the home screen without making me enter my passcode. Which meant it had been on recently. I checked my morning alarm. It was set for 6:00 a.m. like always. I checked my calendar. It didn’t look like anything was missing. I clicked off my screen, then clicked it on again. The prompt for a passcode came up. I entered it and was admitted to the home screen. My head snapped up, and I looked around my small trailer. I went still, listening. I couldn’t hear anything. I walked slowly to the bathroom and checked the shower. Nobody was there. I shook out my hands. Who did I think would be here? A zombie hunter?
I laughed a little, then exited the trailer and walked down the row to knock on Amanda’s door. I stood there for several minutes. There was no answer. I moved to walk away, when I heard Amanda call out from behind me, “Are you looking for me?”
“Where were you today?” I asked as she let us both into her trailer. “I thought you’d want to be there for the big kiss.”
“You really thought I’d want to be there for that?”
“No. I don’t know.” I sat on her couch and leaned my head back against the cushions.
“Grant and I had our own really good kissing session yesterday. I didn’t want a new image in my head. How did it go?”
“Good, actually.” I sat up.
Her eyes went down to the floor.
“Because I did that thing you told me to.”
“What thing?” she asked.
“I imagined someone I really liked.”
“Oh yeah?” A slow smirk came onto her face. “Who?”
“You know who,” I said grudgingly.
&n
bsp; “Tutor boy?”
I smiled. “I don’t think he’d like that nickname.”
“So you finally realized you like him.”
“Yeeees,” I groaned.
“Why is this a bad thing?”
“Because I need to stay focused. I have a career to develop.”
“And kissing a boy you like is going to somehow ruin this?”
“It’s the liking part I’m worried about. That’s just going to distract me, get in my head. I’ve never really had the need to like anyone before. Freshman year, I was kissing Hayden in Guys and Dolls. He was a great kisser. Need satisfied. Sophomore year it was Ryan in The King and I. Junior year there was Brady in Some Like It Hot.”
“Okay, I get it. So what you’re saying is that your pattern of kissing costars has gotten you to where you are and you’re worried to disrupt the pattern?”
“Something like that.”
“So it needs to be: senior year, kissing Grant James in Dancing Graves? Need satisfied?”
“That sounds pathetic.”
“It does,” she agreed. “And I just realized something.”
“What?”
“You’ve never really been kissed. That’s so sad.”
“Yes, I have, I just told you about all of them.”
“You just told me your only kisses have been scripted. Lacey, you have no idea how much different it is off script. You need a real kiss. Your first real kiss. Seriously, it’s so much better. You will never want to stop.”
“You do realize you’re not helping. That’s exactly what I’m worried about. That this will completely derail me. Do you know my mom quit college for my dad? They had to move for his grad school, and she didn’t want to be left behind. And she never finished.”
“And she regrets this every day of her life?”
