Double Feature: Attack of the Soul-Sucking Brain Zombies/Bride of the Soul-Sucking Brain Zombies (The Russel Middlebrook Series Book 3) (16 page)

"It's not you," I said. "It's me." I thought about what I'd just said. "Wait, that sounds like I'm breaking up with you."

"Breaking up?" said Leah. "I didn't even know we were going out."

I smiled. "You haven't been a lesbian very long, have you? You're never supposed to know when you're going out with someone."

"Wouldn't you
have
to know?" she said. "Wouldn't there be, like, kissing? Candlelight dinners and sweet nothings whispered in the ear?"

"Like I said, you
really
haven't been a lesbian very long!"

At that, she laughed. The lightened mood made me laugh too.

"Anyway," I went on, "I
am
avoiding you, but it's not because I don't want to see you."

"Um," said Leah, confused. "Okay."

I shook my head. "I had no idea this would be so complicated." I tried again. "I do want to keep seeing you. I just wanted to think about what we've talked about. Get a sense of how I feel about everything. I didn't know what to say to you—as you can kind of tell from this conversation right now, I might add. Anyway, that's why I was avoiding you."

"Ah," she said. "That makes sense. Well, now that the avoiding-me thing is shot to hell, any chance you want to come over to my house to watch DVDs after the shoot?"

"Unquestionably," I said.

*   *   *

Leah's bedroom wasn't what I was expecting at all.

She had framed movie posters on the walls, from monster flicks like
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
and
Cat People
. She also had one of Princess Leia from the original
Star Wars
, but not in a metal bikini. She had shelves and shelves of books—almost all science fiction and fantasy. She had good taste too: excellent books by Jacqueline Carey, Octavia Butler, and George R. R. Martin; graphic novels from Neil Gaiman and Alan Moore; and bound reprintings of old EC and DC Comics.

For knickknacks, she had dragons and plastic figurines of classic monsters like Wolfman and Frankenstein. Not a pony or Barbie anywhere in sight.

Her room was dark, but not drab; clean, but not neat-freaky; and quirky, but not cluttered. It smelled like lavender—real lavender—but I couldn't find the source. The bed had been made, but only very loosely.

In short, it was the bedroom of someone who, if I didn't know her, I would really
want
to know. That made me think that she hadn't been lying when she'd said that the Leah I knew was the "real" one, not the girl who hung out with her cheerleader friends.

By now she had closed the door to her bedroom. On the back, there was a big poster of Xena and Gabrielle from the old TV series
Xena: Warrior Princess
.

"Oh, my God!" I said. "You
are
a lesbian!"

"You weren't sure?" said Leah. "And you can tell that from my Xena poster?"

I gave her the fish-eye. "You're kidding, right?"

She laughed. "I love that show. I have all six seasons. And it's not just the lesbian subtext or whatever. I like that it's so dark—that the world is this bleak, scary place, and that Xena has this ugly, evil past that she has to atone for."

"Oh, I
completely
agree," I said. "And I just
love
all the self-sacrifice. Again and again, Xena has to make some impossible sacrifice—giving her son away to be raised by centaurs, taking Callisto's place in hell, even forfeiting her life!—all because she has to make amends for that evil past, but also because these things are just the right thing to do. And most of the time, no one except her sidekick Gabrielle even knows the true cost of her sacrifice. I love that!"

Leah laughed again.

I looked at Leah's coat, which she'd put on her bed. "Hey," I said, "let's switch coats."

"What?" she said.

"Let's trade."

"I'm, like, three feet taller than you."

"Okay, then let me just try it on." I slipped hers on. It was way too big, even with the sleeves rolled up. However, it smelled like her. It felt like I was wrapping her around me. "Just for a little while, okay?"

"Really?" said Leah. "Like I'm a guy giving you his letterman jacket?"

"Yes, except that I don't go for the butch-femme thing. And even if I did, you would so not be the butch."

"Okay. It's not like I can wear that jacket to school anyway."

I fingered one of the epaulets. "What do you want to do now?"

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. "Leah!" her mom called. "Your friends are here!"

Leah and I stared at each other, eyes wide. Friends? Outside the door, the stairs squeaked and groaned under approaching footsteps.

A second later, Dade, Savannah, and Alexis glided into the room. Each one was wearing torn jeans and sipping a different brand of diet cola.

"Hey, Leah!" said Dade.

"Oh," said Alexis, noticing me. "Min." She wasn't being an outright bitch, but she didn't sound ecstatic to see me.

"Hi," I said to them all. Suddenly the bedroom felt too crowded, like an elevator way over capacity. I definitely wanted to get off.

They all took seats—on the bed and at the desk. They reminded me of cats, sinking into sleek, angular resting positions. Leah and I stayed standing. If we'd been animals, it would have been something twitchy and anxious, like squirrels.

"So what's going on?" Leah asked her friends.

"Nada," said Savannah. "We were just hanging." She looked at me. "What, did you and Leah trade jackets?"

"I'm just borrowing it," I said. I could tell from her expression exactly what she thought of that decision.

"We were just hanging too," said Leah. As I watched, she relaxed before my eyes, becoming more catlike by the second. I tried to relax like Leah, but the best I could do was only something slightly less twitchy, like a rabbit. How was it, I wondered, that her friends couldn't see from her bedroom what a dyke Leah was? She had a poster of Xena on her door, for Christ's sake! Was it because she didn't "look" like a lesbian?

"I can't
believe
Debbie didn't go crazy when he posted those pictures on the Internet!" Savannah was saying.

"Don't tell me she didn't know," said Alexis. "She knew. I know she knew."

"Why didn't she post the pictures of Zack?" said Dade. "Damn, he is so hot."

"Yeah," said Alexis, "but that army surplus thing has so got to go."

"I like it," said Savannah. "It goes with his Hummer."

Leah's friends kept talking about their school and people they knew. No one asked me anything, and Leah hardly contributed anything herself. I pretended to listen, but really I tuned them out. At this point, my plan was to stay as long as necessary to be polite, and then take the first opportunity to leave.

"Oh, my God, Hunter is such a fag!" said Dade suddenly.

That perked me up.

"Did you see that shirt?" Dade went on. "He looked like a pirate!"

"A gay pirate!" said Savannah.

"A gay pirate from the sixties," said Alexis. "It was tie-dyed, people.
Tie-dyed!
"

"And don't get me started on all his little friends," added Dade. "I see them prancing down the hallways on their way to play rehearsal."

Leah didn't say anything. Suddenly it was absolutely imperative that she rearrange the plastic monsters on one of her shelves. That said, at least she didn't look like a relaxed cat anymore.

"Why do they have to go to our school anyway?" said Savannah. "I thought they had their own high school. Harvey Mink or something."

"Milk," said Dade. "And that's in New York."

"So?" said Savannah. "Why can't they go there? We can ship all the fags to New York, then we can blow up the bridges, like what they did to all the criminals in that movie
Escape from New York
."

I glared at Leah, but she was snapping a tiny plastic bat back onto Dracula's shoulder, so she didn't notice. Meanwhile, her friends didn't notice my bug-eyed expression either, because they were still ignoring me, as if I didn't even exist.

Leah had to know I was upset by her friends' rank homophobia. How could
she
not be upset? So why didn't she say something? However, no matter how hard I glared at her, she wouldn't even look up.

Point of fact: I wasn't that upset with Leah's friends for making those antigay comments. Yes, they were stupid and bigoted, but that was about what I expected from people like them.

What upset me was that Leah didn't say anything—that she
still
wasn't saying anything.

My eyes were lasers burning into her head. She fiddled with her mummy now, which was ironic, because in my mind she'd turned into something of a monster herself.

At last she turned to face her friends.

"Did you guys know there's no evidence that pirates ever made anyone walk the plank?" she said loudly. "Which isn't to say they didn't throw a lot of people overboard."

Nice try, I thought. Changing the subject, however, is the same as not saying anything.

"Uh, that's real interesting," said Alexis. "But what the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing," said Leah. "You guys just mentioned pirates."

"
Gay
pirates!" said Savannah. "We were talking about Hunter and his faggy friends."

I still didn't speak up, even though it was killing me not to. I had to see if Leah ever would. It was a test of sorts.

"Well," said Leah, trying again to change the subject, "he doesn't have anything on Loren. The guy has, what, one T-shirt?"

"Someone told me it's not all the same shirt," said Dade. "He has, like, ten identical ones."

"That's true!" said Savannah. "He sits in front of me in English, and there's this yellow stain on the neck. But it only shows up once every two weeks!"

In other words, this time it worked, and the subject really did change. Leah never had said anything about the antigay comments.

Dade and the others kept chattering on about boys, and clothes, and TV shows. By the time they rose to leave twenty minutes later, no one had even noticed that in all the time since they'd made those homophobic comments, I still hadn't said one word.

"Okay," said Leah as they were leaving. "Bye! See you soon."

They left, and Leah and I were alone.

I cleared my throat.

"Don't start," said Leah.

"Don't start what?" I said. I didn't sound nearly as innocent as I'd intended.

"Look, you didn't say anything either."

This made me mad. "Because I was waiting to see if you would! Because I thought you would jump all over me if I did!"

She fell straight back on her bed. "Min," she said wearily, "I already told you. I'm not ready to come out."

"This has nothing to do with coming out!" I shouted. We had officially reached the outburst stage. "This has to do with not tolerating bigotry!"

"Yeah, well, in this case, it's the same thing."

"Let me get this straight. If you'd called them on those stupid jokes, they would have thought you were a lesbian?"

"Maybe! Between that and finding me alone in my room with you."

"The girl with purple hair."

'Yes! The girl with purple hair! I keep explaining this to you, and you say you understand, but you never do!"

I fumbled for the door. "I can't talk about this right now. I need to think."

"Fine," said Leah. "Go think. While you're gone, I'll think too!"

I slammed her door on the way out.

I had already left the house and was in my car before I realized that I was still wearing her coat.

*   *   *

I was too mad to think; it was all I could do to keep my hands on the wheel as I drove home.

A few minutes after setting out, however, I passed a familiar car. I was sure it was Kevin's. I don't know why I cared, but I couldn't help but wonder where he was going on a Friday night.

I was still too furious with Leah to think about the whole situation with her. Kevin's car, however, suddenly gave me something else to focus on. I clung to it like a boulder in the middle of a raging current.

I needed direction, and Kevin's car gave me some, so I turned my car around and followed his.

*   *   *

He pulled into the lot of a deserted park. A playground of sand abutted a soccer field. Beyond the playground, next to a greenbelt, a picnic gazebo rose from a strip of grass.

I parked my car on a side street and watched as Kevin hurried across the park toward the gazebo. I recognized this place. It's where Russel and Kevin used to meet when they were still going out. Russel had pointed it out to me.

That had to be why Kevin had come here now: to rendezvous with Russel. They must have made plans to meet just like before.

Were they getting back together again? Suddenly I understood why Russel had been so distracted lately. But what about Otto? Was Russel planning on leaving him?

I thought about the conversation I'd had with Otto the day before, how he had reminded me so much of Russel. Otto and Russel were perfect together. Kevin, meanwhile, was a selfish weasel.

There wasn't anyone waiting for Kevin under the picnic gazebo. He had beat Russel here.

I desperately needed to talk to Kevin before Russel arrived. I slipped out of my car and started toward the gazebo. I passed the playground of sand, which had a jungle gym made up of two sets of a monkey bars—one in the shape of a teepee, one in the shape of a wagon. The sun had set long ago, and the park had no streetlamps, so everything was dark. I was struck by how different everything looked at night. Nothing had texture or shade; everything was either light or dark. It felt like I'd stepped right into a black-and-white movie. I could only hope it wasn't a monster movie.

As I approached the gazebo, Kevin peered out at me through the darkness. "Russel?" he said. "Is that you?" He had mistaken me for a guy because I was wearing Leah's coat.

"No," I said, stepping into the gazebo. Russel hadn't been kidding about this place being stinky. The smell of methane was overpowering.

"
Min
?" he said, flabbergasted. "What are you doing here?"

"The question is, what are
you
doing here?"

He turned away. "That's none of your business." In the black-and-white movie in my mind, he looked different too: flatter, almost two-dimensional, but cleaner. His features stood out in the moonlight, a classic leading man.

"Come on," I said. "I know why you're here. You're meeting Russel."

The silhouette that was Kevin just shrugged. "Maybe."

"Please don't do this."

"Don't do what?" said Kevin.

"What you've been doing all along, which is try to win him back."

"I don't see how any of this is any of your busi—"

"He's my best friend," I spoke emphatically. "I care about him. That makes it my business."

"Min, just go."

I couldn't go yet. It had something to do with what had just happened with Leah. I couldn't figure out how to react to her, what was the right thing to do. It was all blurry in my mind. This situation was clearer. I guess I had more perspective when it came to someone else's life.

"Russel has moved on," I said. "He has a new boyfriend now. It's time for you to let him go."

"I'm sorry," said Kevin. "But don't you think that's Russel's decision, not yours?"

"You're right," I said. "It's not my decision. But it's not Russel's either. It's yours."

Kevin looked over at me, squinting. The confusion was clear on his face.

"I'm sure Russel still has feelings for you," I said. "Don't you know how you broke his heart? He pretended to be strong, but he wasn't. He was devastated. Do you know how many times he cried in my arms? His feelings were so strong then that he just might go and do something really stupid now and dump Otto to get back together with you. And why wouldn't he? You've planned and schemed it all perfectly. Don't think I don't know how you left your headlights on on purpose!"

"It wasn't a scheme," mumbled Kevin.

"Is it because you're an athlete? You like to win? It somehow drives you crazy that you lost Russel, so now you want him back? That's it, isn't it?"

"No!" said Kevin, his fists clenched, wrestling with imaginary manacles and chains. "That's
not
it! Did you ever think that maybe I love him too? That maybe I cried just as much as he did? And that eventually I realized what a stupid mistake I'd made? You think it was easy coming out to the whole school? When you guys came out, you had each other, the whole Geography Club. But I had to do it alone! But I did it for him, because I know how important it is to him."

Kevin had a point. It hadn't occurred to me that he'd had to come out alone. He'd probably also lost friends, and quite a bit of his popularity, because of his action. I remembered his black eye that one morning in the parking lot. I couldn't help but think of Leah. Would she pay such a price to get together with me? The evidence spoke against it.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to Kevin. "Maybe you do love him. And I didn't think how hard coming out must have been for you."

"I just want another chance."

Yes, Kevin loved Russel. I accepted that. Even so, that didn't mean they belonged together. Russel had moved on, and he and Otto were now perfect together.

"But, Kevin," I said, "don't you see? You
had
your chance. I'm sorry that you blew it, but you did. Now he needs a chance to love Otto."

Kevin let his arms fall to his sides.

"What are you saying?" he whispered.

Suddenly I realized why it had been so essential that I follow Kevin, and why I was conversing with him now.

"I'm saying," I said, "that you need to tell Russel you've changed your mind. That it's over, and that he has no chance with you."

"What? I can't do—"

"And then you need to leave him completely alone!" I went on. "Otto lives eight hundred miles away. As long as Russel thinks you two might still work out, and as long as you're right here in town, he's never going to be able to love Otto. So you need to cut him out of your life completely. It's the only way he'll ever have a chance with Otto, the only way Russel can ever really be happy with him."

"But—" Kevin raised his hands, as if to struggle again. At that moment, however, he caught sight of something behind my back.

"Here he comes!" whispered Kevin. "You have to get out of here."

I stared at him a moment longer. "You know this is the right thing," I said. "Please. Do it for Russel."

I didn't wait for Kevin to answer, or even look to see his reaction. There wasn't time—Russel might have already spied me as it was. I hustled off into the bushes.

I knew it wasn't right to eavesdrop on Kevin and Russel, so I immediately started trying to work my way around the park and back to my car. Unfortunately, the greenbelt was dark, and the undergrowth thick. Under my shoes, cold mud squished, releasing the smell of wet clay and rotting leaves; it mingled with the strong odor of methane from the swamp. The whole area was impossibly still, almost like time itself had stopped.

That stillness, and the acoustics of the park, made it so I could hear absolutely everything, every whisper and every little gasp, that was going on back at that gazebo, where Russel had just reached Kevin.

"Who was that?" I heard him ask Kevin.

"Huh?" I heard Kevin respond.

"That guy I saw you talking to. Who was it? He looked older." Russel had seen me in Leah's coat, so he'd also mistaken me for a guy. He'd thought the jacket was an overcoat, making me look like a man. In the dark, the epaulets had probably also made my shoulders look broad.

Kevin didn't answer. Was he going to tell Russel the truth, that it had been me? I wasn't sure how I would ever explain why I'd been talking to Kevin.

"He
was
older," said Kevin at last. "In his twenties. He was hitting on me. I've seen him here before."

I stopped in the bushes, confused. What was Kevin saying?

Russel was befuddled too. "Kevin, what are you talking about? What do you mean you've 'seen' him here?"

"What do you
think
?" said Kevin. "Russel, relax. I haven't done it that many times."

I turned back toward the gazebo, which I could still make out through the leaves.

Russel and Kevin were both black-and-white silhouettes now, and I could only see Kevin from behind, but his arms hung limply from his sides. He wasn't thrashing against imaginary chains now.

'"That many times'?" said Russel. "Are you serious?"

"Look!" said Kevin. "What'd you want to see me about?"

"Well, I'm confused," said Russel. "Last week you were all moony-eyed over me. You came out to the whole school so we could be together. Now you tell me you've been out picking up old guys in parks?"

"Well, it's not like we were together then," said Kevin. "And it's not like that has anything to do with us anyway. That's just sex."