Zombies vs. Unicorns (31 page)

Maybe they’re not as mindless as we thought, or so dedicated to turning every last human into one of them. Like Kalyn says, they were just bored, waiting for something better to happen.

And that better thing is us.

“Princess Prettypants”

Holly
: Unicorns exist in pop culture as bubble-gum colored, riding over rainbows, full of sparkles and stars. They have been made into stickers, posters, and adorable toys. Unicorns of this type are often used as symbols of pure happiness, hope, and awesomesauce.

You might see this kind of unicorn on the T-shirts of hipsters, in ironic animated videos, and as an antidote to unpleasantness on blogs.

Meg Cabot’s “Princess Prettypants” is a fantastic and hilarious send-up of a unicorn of this type, dropped into the very real world. It also features one of my favorite explanations for why unicorns have recently come back from extinction.

Justine
: Once again Team Unicorn cannot hide its shame. Little known fact: Meg Cabot is a zombie lover and would have much preferred to be on Team Zombie, but Holly was getting desperate for Team Unicorn members so Meg succumbed to pleading and bribery and joined Team Wrong, er, I mean, Team Unicorn.

The result is yet another anti-unicorn story. Which even the ringleader of Team Unicorn admits is a send-up of the dread rainbow-farting unicorn. It seems churlish to mention that Team
Zombie has won this contest hands down. So I’ll just say that my pity for Team Unicorn continues to grow.

Holly
: It is sad to me that Team Zombie is apparently without any love of irony.

By Meg Cabot
 

It was Liz Freelander’s seventeenth birthday, and so far it could not have been going worse. It had been her turn in debate, and the critique notes she got back afterward—which were supposed to be anonymous, but of course Liz recognized everyone’s handwriting because she’d been going to school with almost every single person in the class since the first grade—ranged from the banal to the offensive:

Good job! And happy birthday,
Kate Higgins, who had the same birthday as Liz, wrote, adding a winking smiley face.

Kate was the most well-liked girl in their grade, revoltingly perky even at eight in the morning when school started, and always screaming the loudest at the Venice High Gondolier pep rallies.

And yet Kate had never asked Liz to come to a single one of her birthday parties, even though she threw one every year in the huge media room in the basement of her parents’ house in town. Everyone else in their entire grade was invited, to dance to Kate’s parents’ incredible sound system, play pinball and air hockey, and more recently to drink themselves to unconsciousness in Kate’s parents’ newly installed outdoor hot tub.

At least three girls had passed out in the hot tub at Kate’s birthday party last year. Liz knew this only because her (now ex-) boyfriend Evan Connor had taken her to the party,
not
because she’d been personally invited.

Kate obviously just felt Liz would prefer to celebrate her birthday with her own family and friends.

The only problem with that was, with the exception of Alecia and Jeremy—and Evan, of course, but not anymore, because of what had happened in his dorm room last month—Liz had hardly any friends to speak of.

And when Liz opened the next critique note from her debate, she remembered why:

Debate on success of second-wave feminists? Sucked. But don’t worry, you got your two biggest POINTS across:
!!! Love them titties!!!

Liz felt her cheeks heat up. What the hell? She looked down at her chest. She was wearing an embroidered top her aunt Jody had bought for her on her last trip to the Adirondacks, where she’d gone last year with her friends from the Society for Creative Anachronisms. It was a very girlie top—like all the other things Aunt Jody gave her as presents, since Aunt Jody seemed to think Liz was still seven years old and fond of all things pink and princess-themed—and Liz wouldn’t have considered wearing it to school if all the rest of her clothes hadn’t been in the wash. It was pink, and not at all revealing, especially considering the fact that Liz was wearing a bra …

… except that, thanks to the brutally cold temperature at which the sadistic staff of Venice High School kept the building in order to lower their electricity bill, Liz could see both her nipples poking out under the soft cotton fabric …

… something Douglas “Spank” Waller apparently found objectionable, since he’d seen fit to mention it in his critique.

Liz recognized his handwriting immediately from the notes he’d frequently left on the windshield of Evan’s truck after school last year. The two of them had been on the football team together, and—despite the fact that Evan was a year older and, in Liz’s opinion, light-years more sophisticated and mature—they’d been as thick as thieves. Liz was sorry to say she’d spent more than a few nights cruising around downtown Venice in Evan’s truck with Evan, Spank, and whichever cheerleader Spank had been dating that week, stealing lawn ornaments out of people’s yards, then hiding them in Liz’s barn.

(Although she’d often been bothered by the immorality of this, Evan, a soon-to-be poli-sci major, had argued that this was a socially conscious act. Most lawn ornaments—such as plaster geese wearing frilly aprons and bonnets or yellow raincoats—were hideously ugly, and by removing them from the public eye, Evan felt that he and Liz and Spank were beautifying the community …

… an argument that Liz had tried, unsuccessfully, on her friend Jeremy, when he’d found out about her nocturnal activities and expressed disapproval.

“No,” Jeremy had said, shaking his head. “Nice try, Liz. But it’s actually called petty theft.”

After reading Spank Waller’s note, Liz turned in her seat to throw him a look of disgust.

He caught her glance, winked …

… then ran his tongue lasciviously around his lips.

Liz had to look away, or risk feeling the tacos and Coke she’d had for lunch in the school cafeteria come back up. She
then turned her attention resolutely back to Mrs. Rice. Mrs. Rice was, as every student in the whole school knew, completely unqualified for the job of teaching eleventh-grade debate, since she’d actually been hired to be a PE teacher.

But that’s what came from living in a town the size of Venice.

Venice, Indiana, that is.

Liz sighed. Should she really have been surprised that her birthday was going so horribly? The day had started off badly, with her father joking about the “big surprise” that would be waiting for her in the barn when she got home from school.

Had Liz’s family been like any other, she’d have gotten her hopes up that the metallic blue Volkswagen convertible Beetle she’d always wanted would be parked in the barn when she got home, with a big white bow on the hood.

But because she knew her parents couldn’t afford extravagant gifts on what they’d been pulling in lately from the family farm, she was certain what she’d find in the barn after school instead would be something more along the lines of a laptop—most likely purchased secondhand and refurbished by her dad, who was good with his hands.

Or possibly, if she were very, very lucky, her parents would give her back her old cell phone.

Which was extremely unlikely, considering the bill she’d run up earlier in the semester, texting Evan every night. She’d sworn she’d pay her parents back, and she was still trying to, working weekends at the Chocolate Moose downtown and babysitting whenever she could.

Mostly, though, she was just mad that Evan, after first
making her promise not to date other people while he was away at his freshman year of college, and then swearing that he himself wouldn’t desert her for some gorgeous religious studies major with naturally straight hair, had immediately gone and done so …

… but only after stringing her along for seven weeks and twelve hundred dollars in texting fees (not to mention what Liz had paid for birth control pills the whole time they’d been going out … at least until she’d walked in on him and that religious studies major in bed together during a surprise visit to his dorm one weekend. She’d paid another two hundred and eleven dollars in round-trip bus fare for that pleasure).

She should have known her day wasn’t going to go well when, that morning on the bus to school, Jeremy and Alecia had decided it would be funny to sing “Happy Birthday” to her.

But even that couldn’t have prepared Liz for Spank’s critique note during Mrs. Rice’s fourth-period debate class.

“He’s disgusting,” Liz said to Alecia when school finally let out and they were heading toward their bus. Spank had just elbowed past them on the way to his Camaro in the student parking lot.

“Douglas?” Alecia pushed her glasses up her nose. “I thought you two got along. Besides, I think he’s hot.”

“That’s because you were homeschooled for nine years,” Liz reminded her.

Spank chose that moment to notice whom he’d just pushed out of his way. He turned around and yelled, “Is it a half hour before dusk? Because Freelander’s got her headlights turned on!”

“Oh, hey,” Alecia squealed excitedly, grabbing Liz’s arm. “He’s talking to you!”

“Yeah,” Liz said. “He’s making fun of my nipples, all right? Just keep walking.”

“Oh.” Alecia smiled. “My mom says if a boy teases you, it means he likes you. Isn’t that right, Jeremy?”

Jeremy made a face. “Uh,” he said. “No. In the case of Spank Waller, I suspect it just means he’s an asshole.”

Alecia’s lower lip jutted out. “That’s not what my mom says. She says that’s why Douglas is always making fun of my glasses and the fact that I wear such long skirts every day. Because Douglas likes me. And, Jeremy, you shouldn’t swear.”

“Yeah,” Liz said, shooting Jeremy an aggravated look. “That must be why, Alecia. Because he likes you.” She grabbed her friend by her enormous backpack and steered her onto the bus. Jeremy, standing behind them both, gave Liz a perplexed look.

“Why’d you tell her that? You know Spank Waller doesn’t give a shit about her.”

“She’s got a crush on a guy who in a million years will never like her back,” Liz said. “She has so little. Let her have her fantasies.”

“Whatever,” Jeremy said with a shrug as he swung himself up onto the bus behind Alecia. “Spank thinks he can do whatever he wants, without consequence. Because he can, and as you know perfectly well, he has. His dad is the sheriff. Believe me, no good will come of encouraging Alecia’s crush on him.”

Liz rolled her eyes as she followed Jeremy to a seat toward the back of the bus.

“Guess where I’m going tonight?” Jeremy said as he sat down.

“Let me guess,” Liz said. “Kate Higgins’s house, for her birthday blowout.”

“No. Your house. Your mom’s having a surprise party for you.”

Alecia, seated in a row ahead of theirs, squealed, “Jeremy! You weren’t supposed to tell! Now you’ve ruined the surprise.”

Liz blanched. “Tell me you’re shitting me.”

“Liz!” Alecia looked scandalized.

“
High School Musical
theme,” Jeremy went on. “Your mom got matching hats and plates and everything half off from Party Kaboose. You know Debbie Freelander always knows what the cool kids are into.”