Kyle
“Die, assholes!” Kyle yelled.
She tapped the screen of Beau’s iPad repeatedly, dispersing more grapefruit and strawberry bombs. They arced toward the killer zombies that were slowly stumbling their way toward her majestic princess castle. She had to kill the ones with the yellow eyes first, because they were the most powerful. The rest of them, the red-eyed ones, were useless—except when there was a pack of twenty or more, at which point their strength and speed increased exponentially.
Level three ended: 2,438 points. Awesome.
As Kyle waited for level four to start, she thought about Kass, wondering if she had made it home safely. Kass had taken off about an hour ago to make the ten-minute walk to the house she shared with Kamille. Kyle had tried to get her to crash in her old bedroom, but Kass had insisted on sleeping at her own place . . . “in case Eduardo comes over, plus I need to fold the laundry and do my taxes.” WTF?
Kass had also insisted on driving, but Kyle had very cleverly taken her car keys away from her and hidden them in the refrigerator, in a tub of Greek yogurt. It was the smart thing to do, considering that Kass had personally polished off about a gallon of Patrón.
Level four booted up. Kyle sat up straight and adjusted the beach towel she was wearing. (It was a warm night for November, and she’d taken a spontaneous dip in the pool just after Double D-Lite.) One of the red-eyed zombies lurched menacingly across the drawbridge. Kyle repositioned her earphones, which were blasting the game’s screeching metal sound track, and prepared to attack.
It was then that she felt a light tap on her shoulder.
She screamed and jumped to her feet. Benjy was standing behind her, smiling sheepishly.
“What the fuck?” Kyle shouted.
Benjy said something that she didn’t hear. She realized that she still had on her earphones. She yanked them off and repeated: “What . . . the . . . fuck?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Benjy apologized. “What are you playing?”
“Zombies versus Fruit Salad, if you must know,” Kyle replied testily. “What are you doing here?”
“Um, I live here? I just got back from—”
Kyle fake-yawned. “That’s fascinating. You can go now.”
“Yeah, well . . . you might want to know that my dad texted me before, and they’re going to be home in like five minutes. And I’m not sure how psyched they’re going to be when they see your party spread.”
“What party spread?”
“This one?” Benjy waved at the coffee table, which was littered with two Patrón bottles, two shot glasses, pizza crusts, a bag of Double Stuf Oreos, and half a joint.
Oops.
“Yeah, I guess I’d better clean that up,” Kyle agreed, massaging her temples. Her head was still spinny from the tequila, not to mention all the zombie-killing. “What time’s it, anyway?”
A car door slammed outside. Benjy glanced around, then began methodically picking up the items and stashing them under the couch.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Kyle demanded.
“Saving your ass.”
“Huh?”
The front door opened. Coco and Chanel bounded down the stairs, barking. There was a peal of laughter—Kat’s—then Beau’s voice saying: “You think anyone’s still up, darlin’?”
“That wasn’t five minutes!” Kyle whispered furiously to Benjy.
In response, Benjy clamped his hand over her mouth and tackled her to the floor, behind the couch. Kyle tried to wriggle away, but he was too strong.
“Stop moving! Shhh!” Benjy hissed in her ear.
Footsteps, more laughter . . . then Kyle heard her mother and Beau walk into the living room and sink down onto the couch. They seemed to have no idea that she and Benjy were on the floor right behind them.
“That was fun,” Kat said. “We should have a date night more often!”
“Date night’s not over yet,” Beau replied. “Mmm, come here.”
“What are you doing, Beau? The kids!”
“I’m sure Benjy and Kyle’re asleep by now. Mmm, you smell so good.”
“Mmm, so do you.”
Silence. Then kissy-smacky noises. Then heavy breathing. Then bodies shifting around on the couch. Then more heavy breathing. Then unzipping sounds.
“I want to see you naked.”
“I want to see you naked.”
Kyle’s eyes widened in horror as various items of clothing came flying over the back of the couch: T-shirts, shorts, bra, panties, jeans, boxers, and more. Were the parents having sex? On the couch?
Ew!
“Oh my God, yes!” her mother moaned.
“You want more of that, baby?” Beau murmured.
Kyle turned her head to stare at Benjy. He looked as freaked out as she did.
Benjy put his finger to his lips and started belly-crawling across the floor, toward the dining room. He indicated for her to do the same; she obeyed.
Unfortunately, Coco and Chanel bounded over and began licking Kyle’s face with their nasty dog-breath tongues. She wanted to tell them to cut it out, but she forced herself to keep quiet, for the sake of not getting grounded for the rest of her life.
After what seemed like hours, although it was probably more like minutes, Kyle reached the safety of the dining room. She got to her feet and followed Benjy, who quietly slid open the terrace door and stepped outside.
“Holy shit!” Kyle blurted out as soon as Benjy had closed the door. “Can you believe it? They were having sex right in front of us! That was like the most vomitatious experience I’ve ever had!”
“Yeah, we’re probably going to be in therapy for like a hundred years,” Benjy said. His gaze dropped. “Uh, Kyle? Speaking of naked . . .”
Kyle glanced down. She seemed to have misplaced her beach towel someplace between the living room couch and the terrace. All she had on was a pair of black boy briefs with the words GO FUCK YOURSELF on them.
“Ohmigod!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Where . . . I mean, when . . . I mean, how long . . .”
“Just now. There’s your towel, there, on the dining room floor. No worries, I didn’t see anything.”
“Bullshit!”
Benjy took off his Korn T-shirt and handed it to her. “Here, take this. I’m going to try to get upstairs somehow. I’m totally wiped. So, um, good night.”
“Good night.” Kyle slipped on his shirt, grateful for the coverage, even if it was Korn. “Hey, Benjy?”
“What?”
“You don’t think I’m a slut, do you?”
Benjy started. “Where did that come from?”
“ ’Cause I’m not. I know I act like it sometimes. But it’s just to confuse people, because I don’t like everyone thinking they can figure me out.” She added, “Besides, it drives Mom crazy.”
“So . . . you’re saying you want to drive your mom crazy?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“That is such a teenage cliché.”
“Thanks.”
Kyle wanted to say more, about that day they’d made out, about how fun and really nice it had been. How it hadn’t been a teenage cliché. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“Hey, Benjy?”
“What?”
“Yeah, so I have this bio test coming up.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s gonna be a bitch.”
“You want some help with it?”
“Sure! How about Monday after school?”
“Monday’s drama club. How about Tuesday?”
“Tuesday’s great.”
Benjy waved and disappeared. Kyle stared after him.
And just like that, everything was okay between them again. Okay-ish, anyway.