Quirk: Read Outside the Lines

The Bad Date

She rang the doorbell, rocks in her stomach from nerves, not anticipation. This was a stupid idea, yet here she was. The second time her finger smashed into it, the buzzer screeched.

A doe-eyed, tall man with a flop of brown hair answered. He was slightly hunched and otherwise average, but when they'd met at the café, he'd seemed so nice. And normal. Normal in this day and age was a huge plus. She'd been swept away by his passion. He'd been reading Rachel Carlson's Silent Spring, and they'd talked about nature and the environment. He, an urban planner in his last year of grad school, and she, a biologist who had just started to work for the state of Maine.

"Come in." Greg waved his hands, guiding Jayla into the living room. Sparsely but neatly furnished, the space held cheap hand-me-downs and Walmart brands. A rickety bookshelf stood center stage where most people would have highlighted the latest, largest TV.

"Would you like a drink?" He pushed his flop of hair off his forehead.

Jayla had trouble meeting his eyes. "No thanks. Nice apartment."

Greg shrugged. "Not really, but I don't plan on being here too long. Plus, you never know. Right?"

"Right." The conversation stalled as Jayla eyed the walls devoid of artwork.

"Let me grab my coat, and we can go. The movie starts at 8:10."

He smiled at her before turning and heading into the other room.

At least he hadn't brandished a knife, taken her hostage, and then tortured her before a slow and painful death. Those images had run through her mind the entire drive.

Jayla hadn't been thinking straight when they'd planned the date at the café. His apartment, dead center between her own and the theater, became the meeting point. She'd been stupid to agree when he'd put his address in her phone, but here she was. 

If he was decent or even tolerable, she might stay the night. It had been so long since, well, anything. Her last boyfriend, booky, into comic cons and video games, hadn't really excelled at the romantic stuff or the bedroom stuff.

She was hungry. Famished. She needed a night of wild debauchery. Wasn't that what her youth was for? She'd better not waste it. The future held a husband, kids, and the slow slide to death.

Waiting, she wandered over to the books. A couple of textbooks, a biography on George Washington, The Prepper's Pantry, World War Z, and The Zombie Survival Guide.

She took a step back and then another. Jayla enjoyed a good zombie flick as much as the next girl. Warm Hearts was even a zombie love story, but this guy was really into the genre or thought it might happen. The last idea concerned her.

"Ready to go?"

She started at Greg's voice. "Sure."

"You saw my books?" His eyes wouldn't leave hers.

"Yes."

"What do you think?"

She couldn't say what she thought. She'd trapped herself in a house with a delusional person. A possible murdering zombie fanatic. "I like zombie movies."

"It's much more than that. The possibility is real. So real that we must be ready. I'm prepped and have an escape route planned. I can tell you all about it after the movie. You need to know where the zombies will congregate. I've seen it all as an urban planner. Humans packed together in cities. Lethal diseases spread so easily. One of these days, it will be the zombie virus."

He led her out the door and towards his car.

"Great." She'd been so hungry. Hungrier than a hive of zombies. Now all she felt was dead on the inside. Maybe the zombies would rise and put an end to another bad date.