Careful What You Wish For (15 page)

I couldn't ask Lou for help. Maybe Mara's Daughters? They had powers, too. And they claimed to be the good kind of demons. But what if they weren't? What if everyone from the underworld eventually succumbed to evil? Even me. No. I got myself into this mess. I was going to fix it.

The footsteps behind me were getting louder. I turned my head. The zombie was gaining on me, and he looked really ticked. He let out a humongous roar. I screamed, too. I was living a horror movie. Hopefully I was the lead—not some sidekick. The leads never died. I sent the creature flying again. But while that happened, I wasn't really watching where I was going, and I ran right into the water fountain, then fell backward onto my butt. This wasn't the time to be clumsy. This was the time to find an escape. But I couldn't.

The monster was coming toward me again. How many times could I keep sending him away before he actually caught me—or gave up and went for one of my classmates?

It was hopeless.

Then it got worse.

An arm appeared from the janitor's closet and pulled me inside.

I did the only sensible thing.

I screamed.

This was it. I fell right into a trap. I must have created two zombies. The up side was that my problems were finally going to be over—I would no longer be alive to see them. I was going to be Angel food. Not the fluffy white cake kind. But the dark meat made
from
me kind.

“Shh,” it said in a harsh whisper. “Promise not to scream, and I'll let you go.”

This zombie spoke perfect English. “Promise?” it asked.

The thing had me gripped from behind, so I didn't even know what it looked like. How could I promise not to scream? What if its eyeballs were hanging out? That was definitely scream-worthy. But I decided to take my chances. I shook my head yes, and it let go.

I turned to face the creature. Only it wasn't a creature. It was just D.L.

Maybe I should have stuck with running from the zombie. D.L. probably wanted to use me as bait, offer me up to the monster on a plate, in exchange for letting him go free.

I pinned myself against the door. “What do you want with me?”

“Please,” D.L. said. “Don't flatter yourself. What would I want from you?”

Okay, maybe he didn't want to feed me to a monster, but he was still a jerk.

“And you're welcome,” he said.

Well, maybe not that big a jerk. He did just hide me from the zombie. “Thanks,” I said, and slid down to the ground.

“What are you doing in here, anyway?” I asked, making sure my coat was still closed. I didn't need him seeing my new chest.

“It was the only place to get away from those cameras. There's like five different cameramen roaming around trying to get set-up shots for that show and interviews about Gabi. And I don't know what they're doing now. It's like they're trying to turn it into a haunted house.”

Ooh! He thought the zombie was part of the show. Hopefully everyone else would, too! “And you don't want to be on TV?” I asked. “I would think someone like you would love it.”

“Someone like me?” His lip curled and he flung his head back, moving his hair from in front of his eye. “What does that mean?”

Umm. What it meant was someone hot and completely self-centered. But I wasn't going to tell him that—well, the hot part, anyway. “You just seem the type.”

“Well, you don't know me.”

I knew that he was a complete snob. The first time I met him, he wouldn't talk to me because he was afraid I'd hurt his “cool” reputation. I knew he loved to make fun of me and get people into trouble. And I knew he was into girls like Courtney Lourde—the mean Courtney Lourde—so I knew more than enough.

“You could have just gone home,” I said.

“Tried. Got busted.”

I didn't really know what to say next. It wasn't like D.L. and I were friends. More like the opposite. So we just sat there not speaking. But I could feel him looking at me. I glanced down when I felt a warm blush filling my cheeks. It wasn't like I was into him or anything. I mean, he was D.L. Helper after all. But his eyes were this aqua blue. They were kind of mesmerizing.

“Why'd you help me?” I asked to break the silence.

D.L. shrugged. “All that screaming, it sounded like you needed it.”

I was so surprised he bothered to help. I would have expected him to push me right toward the thing. “Thanks. I kind of got myself in over my head.”

He didn't respond, so I kept talking. It was better than just sitting there looking into his eyes. “The zombie won't stop chasing me. I need to figure out a way to convince the, umm, producers to get rid of it. All that and Gabi and I are in a war. Overall, my life is falling apart.”

It actually felt good to talk to someone. Even if that someone was D.L.

“So fix it,” he said.

“Thanks. Like I haven't been trying?”

He whipped back his hair again. “I think if you wanted to put an end to this madness, you would have. Just do it.”

“You don't understand the nightmare I'm living.” That was the truth.

He shrugged his shoulder. “Nightmares don't last forever.”

I thought about this for a moment. It's true—nightmares
don't
last forever. Was it possible that if I played out the entire dream from last night it would eventually end? That the zombie would dematerialize? It was a risk. Because in the nightmare the zombie actually caught me right before I woke up. If I was wrong, I was lunchmeat. But if I was right, the nightmare would be over. The zombie would disappear right after it caught me.

That would take care of one problem, but I still had Gabi to deal with. I bit my nail and tried to come up with a plan. What was I supposed to do? I felt D.L. staring at me. Oh no. Did he notice my mongo boobs? I peeked up at him. Luckily it was my face he was studying.

It was weird having him look at me without slinging insults my direction. “I'm just trying to come up with a way to make Gabi give up her . . . um . . . her . . .” I almost said wishes. That would have gone over beautifully.

“Reality show,” he offered.

“Yeah,” I said, relieved to have a sensible answer—one I should have been able to come up with in a heartbeat. Why was my brain getting all soupy around him? I was probably just in shock that he wasn't acting like his usual mean self. Maybe Gabi wished he'd turn nice like Courtney and Co.

“Those shows make fools out of people. Just make her realize it.”

He was onto something.

I knew just what to do. It was time for Gabi to play the fool.

It was hard to believe these words were coming out of my mouth, but I turned to D.L. and said, “Any chance you want to help me?”

He just looked at me.

“I think I know how we can get the cameras out of school and maybe put life back to normal.”

“Fine,” he said. “What do you want me to do?”

“Help set Operation Shut Down Gabi into motion.” I just needed D.L. to make sure Goode's new little star and her fans went to the auditorium, while I dealt with my other nightmare. “It shouldn't be too hard,” I told him after I explained what I needed. “Just tell them Lance Gold is in there. Gabi told me Elena was setting up a photo shoot with him, so everyone should buy it.”

He agreed.

“Okay,” I said, cracking the door open. “Ready or not. Oh . . .” I turned back to him. “If anyone gives you a hard time, just tell them it's what Max wants. They'll listen.”

D.L. rolled his eyes. “Let's just do this.”

I took one more second to think about the fact that D.L. was actually helping me, then shoved my head out the door. The zombie was down the hall to my left baring his teeth and smashing lockers as he passed them. He was angry. He was
hungry
. “Go
that
way.” I pointed D.L. to the right. I needed him to round up everyone. The zombie was
my
problem. And once I got rid of it, I'd put a stop to that other monster. Gabi.

D.L. and I parted ways.

After he was out of sight, I called out to the zombie. “Yo, Night of the Living Dead, over here.”

Please don't let this be a big mistake!
I thought as the creature made its way toward me. If my thinking was correct, the zombie would disappear. If I was wrong, well, I didn't want to think about that.

It was a gamble. A big one. But I was going to see my nightmare through.

A second later the zombie was in front of me. It reached its arm out. It was big and muscular, with nails that looked like they could rip through flesh. Survival instinct kicked in. I couldn't help it. I waved my hand, sending the zombie backward. It let out a roar.

“Attention, everyone,” a voice—D.L.'s—came over the loud speaker. “Everyone to the auditorium now.”

Mr. Stanton could be heard in the background. “Put the microphone down, young man.”

“Max sent me,” D.L. mumbled. Mr. Stanton didn't seem to answer. “Lance Gold is in there, everyone. We need you to go to the auditorium now.”

D.L. did his part, but was I brave enough to do mine?

“Go now,” D.L. repeated. “Do it for Max.”

Those words played over and over in my head as the zombie headed back in my direction.
Do it for Max. Do it for Max.
If I got rid of the zombie, I could work on fixing everything else. Turning Max back into his old self again, getting rid of the reality show, taking Cole out from under Gabi's spell, my boobs.

I
was
going to do it for Max. And I was going to do it for
me
. It was time to face up to all the trouble I'd caused. And with that, I stepped forward and let the zombie grab me.

The zombie's hands circled around my arms. Why wasn't it disappearing? Was my theory about letting the nightmare run its course wrong? My body actually started to tremble. The thing opened its mouth, showing off its teeth. Last night I woke up right as it, he, whatever it was, was about to take a chunk out of my bicep.

But that's not what seemed to be happening.

The monster was still big as life, and it was going in for the kill.

“Noooo!” I screamed, closing my eyes and bracing for the pain of razor-sharp teeth cutting into me.

Only it never happened. I opened one eye, then the other. The zombie was gone! How could I almost have forgotten the scream?! It's what woke me up from my dream the other night. My plan worked. I saw the nightmare out to the end, and I was still in one piece! I took a few deep breaths. The shaking finally stopped. I was okay. Now it was time to make my other plan work.

Operation Shut Down Gabi.

The auditorium was packed when I walked in, and it was pretty noisy. There were a lot of people asking about Lance. And others still freaked out about the monster they had seen earlier walking the halls.

I jumped up onstage. “Excuse me, everyone.” But no one paid any attention. Except the cameras. It took me a while to get everyone to be quiet. Eventually I just said I was Gabi's BFF, and they finally listened.

“Hi,” I said. “I know you're all waiting for Lance. But first, I have a couple of things to tell you. That zombie you saw in the hall. Um, he's an actor. He heard there was a reality show filming here and was hoping to get on TV. He apologizes if he scared anyone.” I hoped they were buying it. “Second, I'd like to call Gabi Gottlieb up here. Come on, Gabi. A star should be center stage. Everyone give her a round of applause as she makes her way up.”

People clapped like crazy. Gabi didn't have much choice. She came up onstage, but she didn't look happy about it. She smiled at the crowd, but spoke to me through gritted teeth. “What are you up to?”

She was going to have to wait and see, just like everyone else.

“As many of you know,” I said into the microphone, “Gabi is my best friend. So I thought I'd share a few of my favorite stories about her with you. Like the time she peed her pants in school while she was sitting at her desk. The teacher sent everyone to the library as a cover up. But it was really so no one would point at Gabi and make fun of her.”

“That was in kindergarten,” Gabi screamed.

“But don't you
wish
it was now?” Okay, I didn't think that would work—that she'd actually go to the bathroom in front of everyone. But the story annoyed her, and that's what I was going for. At least for the moment.

“No!” she screamed.

If I wanted to make her accidentally wish for something, it was going to have to be something she actually wanted. It was up to me to paint the scene.

“Another thing about Gabi is . . .”

“Enough, Angel,” she said. “I wish you'd stop.”

But her wishes didn't work on me.

I continued, “She loves junk food. If she could, she'd dive into a giant bowl of ice cream, with fudge, whipped cream, sprinkles, the works. Who wouldn't want a huge tub of ice cream to feast on? All that chocolatey goodness. Doesn't that sound amazing? Don't you wish you had that right now, Gabi?”

“No,” she said, but I knew she was thinking about it.

“Are you sure? All the ice cream you could eat right there in front of you. Heaps of whipped cream. All the fudge you could want, and the pick of any flavor of ice cream. Mint chocolate chip. Chubby Hubby. Triple chocolate chunk with Oreo bits? Don't you just want to take a huge bite?”

A second later Gabi was standing over a massive bowl of ice cream, scooping a handful of fudge into her mouth. The bowl was about the size of one of the spinning teacups in Disney World. I knew it would work! Make her visualize it and there it was.