Jen: Nope. Zero. Tonight he forced me to go to this weird-ass support group with him
Molly:...
Before she can say anything, I keep typing:Yeah, I know. I chose to go. I guess I wanted to see for myself if this is for real. Turns out there are other zombies. Who knew? Anyway, I need more ammo. I’m running out of ideas
Molly: Well are you still dating other guys? Why not bring someone home?
I stare at her message. Can I do that while Adam is staying here? Why shouldn’t I? I’m a free woman! And if there’s one thing that might work, it’s having to listen to me bang some other guy on the other side of the door.
Ha!
Jen: Great idea. I’m going to do just that.
Molly: Get it, girl! B safe tho
Jen: You know I always am
SIX
Adam
I hardly see Jen all the next day. She’s off to work early. I barely have time to hand her the coffee I made for her before she’s out the door with an odd look back at me over her shoulder. I’m so bored, at one point I actually google how to clean an oven, but it sounds like a pain in the ass, so I distract myself reading over the Friends of the Dead website again. Then I message Rosie, the zombie group leader from the support group, just for something to do. Rosie is the one positive about that god-awful meeting last night.
She responds right away:Hi, Adam. It was so lovely to meet you and your lovely friend Jen. How are you doing today?
She actually listens, when I tell her it’s kind of a rough day.
Rosie:Don’t worry, love. There are ups and downs just like there were when you were alive. You’ll get through it
Huh. I don’t really remember that many downs when I was alive, to be honest. Life just kind of went along as it always did. Come to think of it, there haven’t been that many ups either since I left Jen. Everything has just been kind of beige.
I thought it would be better. When I first met Jen, we always used to have a laugh, but then she got so serious about her job and got all these life goals out of nowhere. Stuff I wasn’t really ready for, like getting married and having kids. Serious adult shit.
I still feel like I’m not qualified to be an adult yet.
When it ended, stuff was pretty toxic between us. But somehow I’m the bad guy for drawing a line under it.
I send Rosie a thank you and she reminds me Friends of the Dead meet every week. I toss my phone onto the sofa without replying. I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but that support group isn’t for me. All those other losers just looked like sad sacks of meat. I don’t want to be that. And if I am that, I’d rather live in denial—or not live I guess. Is there even a word for what I’m doing now?
Unlive? Dead?
My brows scrunch together as I try to remember whether live is a verb or a noun or something else I don’t remember the word for and how that all works.
Eventually I give up and wander into the kitchen to open the fridge. Nothing in there appeals to me, but I could really go for another one of those raw steaks. That was pretty good.
My stomach rumbles, and to distract myself I get in the shower and run the water scalding hot—only hot water, as hot as it willgo. Even that doesn’t really feel warm. Nothing does anymore. I’m standing there staring at the wall when I notice a dark patch in one line of grout and that annoys me. I poke at it with my fingernail and it scratches away. Huh. Mold.
Curious, I climb out, leaving the water running, and fetch a brush from where I found them under the sink the other day. Then I scrub Jen’s shower until there are no more black patches and everything looks sparkling clean. By that point the water is completely cold, so I get out, standing back to admire my handiwork. It looks pretty good actually.
The front door opens, and Jen comes in, calling to me through the bathroom door. “Hi. Can you hurry up in the bathroom? I need to take a shower. I have a date.”
I poke my head out to grin at her. “Oh really? Who’s your date with?”
“Luca. Have you finished?” She jerks her head to indicate that she wants the bathroom.
I step aside. “Go for it. Only you might want to wait a minute. I don’t think there’s any hot water left.”
She only groans, rolling her eyes at me and completely failing to notice what an amazing job I did of cleaning. “God you’re an asshole. You know that?”
