The Enemy Lives Next Door (bxb)

Part Three

Part Three

•••

Being a zombie fanatic has its downsides.

Maybe it's from watching too many horror movies. People call me a freak, and it led to someone running around with a bloody nose.

Back then, I was innocent but easily ticked off by the smallest things people said. But that word—freak—really gets to me. It feels like a slap in the face.

So, I punched someone in the face because he asked for it. He said he wasn't finished with me, and I told him to go die in a ditch.

When I hear a pebble hit my window, the first person I think of is the guy I punched today. My head snaps to the window, cursing whatever entity is out to get me.

I was angry and told him I'd be waiting, but that was just my anger talking. I didn't mean it. I wrap my hand tighter around my soft quilt, pulling it toward my chest for comfort.

My room is dark, the only light coming from my laptop on the bed. I turn up the volume—I'm not about to be a clichéd character in a movie asking, "Who's there?"

Another pebble hits the window. I duck under the quilt, silently praying to whoever is listening. I might have apologized for punching someone and for downloading things illegally.

My brother's room is right across from mine, so I could bolt into his room. He'd probably just mumble and go back to sleep.

I'm tripping over my instincts, convincing myself it's late and I should go to bed. Maybe someone is really out there looking for me. I'm having an episode.

If this is it, at least I've been good to my friends and family. Well, not completely, but the good counts for something, right?

Another pebble hits my window. I furrow my brows and slowly get out of bed. It's a difficult task since I'm so comfortable and scared.

Throwing the quilt over my body, I swing my legs out and plant my feet on the cold wooden floor. I walk to the window, my heart pounding faster than it should. I peek through the blinds and curse under my breath.

Of course, it's Satan. What is wrong with him?

Liam's eyebrows are furrowed, and he has a crease on his forehead that shows he's impatient.

What is he doing here in the middle of the night? He could get killed—not that I'd care; it would mean less drama for me.

Maybe he's here to see Gale.

I shoot my hands out to open the window. "Hey—"

A pebble hits me right on the nose, making me stumble back and hit my head on the window frame. Liam bursts into laughter, the jerk.

I rub the back of my head, glaring at him. His laughter finally subsides, and his usual power-grin returns. He waves for me to come down. "Get your ass down here!"

I wave my hands dramatically. "For what reason? If you think for one second I'd do that, you're mistaken!"

Liam pouts his lips. "Please? I need to ask you something!"