C a t h e r i n e A u s t e n
160
Advance Reading Copy
Ö
Xavier barely speaks when I arrive at his door the next
morning. He doesn’t smell right. His fruitiness has fermented.
He hunches inside his gray suit and his hair hangs stringy. He
has a Christ-on-the-cross sort of beauty that dazzles me. I want
to offer him a cup of water, sling him over my shoulder, carry
him somewhere safe.
“Take care of him,” Mrs. Lavigne says, her face tight,
resigned to whatever’s coming next.
Xavier leans backward as he walks, like he’s being blown
by a fierce wind. He cracks his eyes half open and nods lazily
when I ask if he’s okay. If I didn’t know him, I’d think he was
either stoned out of his skull or the most premium kid on
the planet.
“There’s the jail,” he mutters when we pass the little
zombies lined up in rows.
“That’s the elementary school,” I say. “Ally’s old school.
Remember Ally?”
He gives four slight nods while glancing at me sideways.
“Fruits and vegetables,” he says. Then he squints like he’s
in pain.
I pat his back. “Whatever you say, man.”
“I say I love you, Max.”
Christ, he kills me. He sounds just like my dad.
When we reach the high school, Dallas marches over and
says, “Zombies eat brains.”
“I bet they taste good,” I answer.
“It’s nice to see you back at school, Xavier.”
