Dead Girls' Dance

“No problem,’” Eve said. She sounded much more cheerful now, and gave the sorority girls their ski

Nobody had actually bothered to ask Claire what her major was before. Of course, it was customary for a freshman to change three or four times before settling on something, but Claire had always been pretty definite. “Physics.’”

“Really?’” Ian blinked. “Wow. That’s pretty intense. You must be good at math.’”

She shrugged. “I guess.’” Modesty in action; she’d never failed to land an A, ever.

“Go

“I’m hoping for MIT,’” Claire said. “What about you?’”

Ian shook his head. “CE. Civil engineering. Yeah, I’ve got to take physics, but no way would I volunteer to take more. And I’ve got one more semester. Then I transfer out to UT Austin.’”

A lot of students transferred out to the University of Texas; it was a major school for just about everything. Claire nodded. She’d considered it herself, but…MIT? Caltech? If she had a chance, she’d take it.

“So…what’s EEK? A professional fraternity?’” Because there were some on campus; you paid your dues and went to some meetings and put it on your résumé later.

“It’s a bunch of guys who like to party, really.’” Ian looked embarrassed. “I’m in it because I’ve got a couple of friends…anyway, they do throw this really cool party every year—it’s a big bash. It’s called the Dead Girls’ Dance. All zombie-freaky scary-movie stuff.’” He glanced over at Eve, who was steaming milk. “Your friend there would fit right in as is. Most people wear costumes, though.’”

Was he asking her out? No, he couldn’t be. For one thing, she’d just met him. For another…well, nobody ever asked her out. It just didn’t happen.

“It sounds neat,’” Claire said, and thought, I just used the word neat in a conversation with a cute boy, and I should walk away now and shoot myself.

“It’s at the EEK frat house tomorrow night. Listen, if you give me your number, I can text you the details….’”

“Um…sure.’” Nobody had ever asked before. She stumbled over the digits; he keyed it into his cell phone and smiled at her. A nice smile. A really nice smile, actually. “Um, I don’t know if I can come, though.’”

“Well, if you can, you’d save my life. We geeks have to stick together while everybody else goes nuts, right? See you there tomorrow night at eight?’”

“Right,’” she echoed. “Um…sure. I’ll be there. Thanks. Um, Ian, right?’”

“Ian.’”

“Claire,’” she said, and pointed at herself. “Oh. Did I already say that?’”

He laughed and walked away, sipping his latte.

It was only when he did that she realized she’d just agreed to go out on a date. An actual date. With a boy who was not Shane. How had that happened? She’d meant only to be nice, because he seemed like an okay guy, and then he’d been all charming, especially by comparison with the other guys….

She had a date.

With a boy who was not Shane.

Not good.

“Hey,’” Eve said, and motioned her closer. “So, what was that? Is he giving you a hard time or what?’”

“Ummm….’” Claire’s mind went blank. “No. He just—never mind.’”

Eve’s eyes turned from concerned to shrewd. “He hitting on you?’”

Claire settled for a shrug. She had no idea how to tell, actually. “I think he was just being nice.’”

“Guys aren’t nice,’” Eve said. “What did you tell him you’d do?’”

Okay, that was scary, how quickly she’d nailed it. Claire shifted her weight uncomfortably, and fiddled with her heavy backpack. “Maybe I said I might go to this party. But it totally wasn’t a date.’”

“Oh, totally not,’” Eve agreed. And rolled her eyes. “Next up! Vanilla latte!…which totally describes you, by the way.’”

“I’ll, um, be over there,’” Claire said. “Studying.’”

Eve might have wanted to stop her, but the drinks kept coming, and Claire was able to fade away and go in search of her study table. Which, miraculously, was still unoccupied. She thunked down her backpack on the battered wood and sat, sipping her mocha. The UC seemed safer than most places in Morganville…. Anyplace packed with people reading couldn’t be that bad.

Almost like a real university.

Claire was reading ahead in her history text when a shadow fell over the page. She looked up and saw a girl she slightly knew from her old dorm, Howard Hall—a freshman, like herself. Lisa? Lesley? Something like that.

“Hey,’” the girl said. Claire nodded toward the empty chair opposite her, but Lisa/Lesley didn’t sit. “That Goth at the coffee bar, the one who used to work at Common Grounds—is she your friend?’”

Word got around fast. Claire nodded again.

“Might want to keep her from getting herself killed, then,’” Lisa/Lesley said. “’Cause she’s just pulled the pin from the Monica grenade over at the counter.’”

Claire winced and closed her book. She checked her watch; well, it was probably close to time to leave for class anyway. It was bad, and shallow, but she wished that Lisa Lesley had decided not to do her good deed of the day. It would have been nice to leave without another crisis.

Claire repacked her book bag and walked back toward the coffee bar. I’m just going to tell her good-bye, she thought. No agenda here at all. Totally staying out of it.

Monica, Gina, and Je

“Hey, Walking Dead, I’m talking to you,’” Monica was saying. “Is it true your brother tried to kill you?’”

“Yeah, was that before or after he tried to do you?’” Hand gestures and everything. Wow, that was low even for Je

“Tried?’” Gina snickered. “That’s not what I heard. I heard they were getting it on all through high school. No wonder they both turned out to be freaks.’”

Eve’s face was a still white mask, but her eyes…she looked crazy. In control, but just barely. Her hands were steady as she pulled espresso shots and mixed drinks; she thumped the finished products down on the counter, three across, and said, “If you don’t go away, I’m going to call my manager.’”

“Ooooh,’” Monica said. “Your manager. Wow, I’m terrified. You think some barely-over-minimum-wage brain donor stupid enough to work here is going to scare me? Do you?’” She leaned to the side, trying to catch Eve’s eyes. “I’m talking to you, freak face.’”

Gina noticed Claire standing a few feet away, and drew Monica’s attention with a hand on her shoulder. “Two freaks for one,’” she said. “They must be having some kind of special.’”

“Claire.’” Monica’s smile widened. “Sure, why not? You angry I’m ragging on your little lesbo girlfriend?’”

“Make up your mind,’” Claire said. Her voice sounded low and kind of cool, actually. Maybe it was easier doing this here in public, where she felt more comfortable. Or maybe she was actually getting used to facing down Monica. “Are we gay, or did she sleep with her brother? ’Cause you know, kind of not making much sense.’”

Monica actually blinked. Logic wasn’t her strong suit, anyway. Claire could almost see the Don’t confuse me with facts flicker across her brain. “You laughing at me?’”

“Yeah,’” Claire said. “A little.’”

Monica smiled. A big, genuine smile. “How about that?’” she said. “Claire’s grown a pair. I guess having a badass Protector hanging over your shoulder must be a real comfort.’” She threw a glance at Eve. “But it won’t last. My family means something around here. You freaks are just temporary. And…sad.’”

She flipped her hair back over her shoulders, picked up her latte, and walked away. Guys’ heads turned as she passed, with Gina and Je

“Huh,’” Eve said as she wiped down the machines with maybe a little bit more force than was necessary. “She doesn’t usually back down that easily.’”