Gerard is waiting in my room when I leave the shower the next morning. He's curled up in my armchair, face tilted into the light breeze coming in my open window. He's reading one of my essays.
"Do you mind?" He says, lifting the pages.
"I'm working on that." I wince, "It's not finished."
His eyes are on my scribbled words, and he begins to read aloud. "Friedrich Nietzsche's concept of nihilism was a truth widely acknowledged before the world ended. We knew, objectively, that we were tiny specks of meat and bone hurtling through the abyss of space on a spit of rock. Yet still we were dominated and controlled by the fantasies we'd constructed; money, religion, beauty. There's a dozen concepts I could name. But now I live at the end of all things, and there is no use for any of it. There is only what we are willing to do, for ourselves and for each other-"
"Stop that," I groan, and snatch the papers. "It's not finished."
Gerard's smiling, eyes tender. "I like it, so far. You'll be able to write a book one day."
I roll my eyes, "Maybe you should have an album ready for when things like that matter."
His eyes spark, and he grins. He relaxes into the chair, and I turn away to change out of my towel.
"Now," he says, as I face my mirror and start to drag a brush through my wet hair. "What did you and Frank get up to last night?"
My heart squeezes, and I decide to lie.
"We just went for a drive-"
"He already told me about Stonehenge." Gerard waves a hand. "He ran the idea by me before he took you."
I purse my lips, "Is there anything else he told you?"
He shrugs innocently and won't meet my eyes. Irritation prickles in the pit of my stomach.
"Is there something else I should know?" He hedges.
I spin towards him and glare. "He told you?"
"Frank tells me a lot. You're going to have to be specific-"
"He told you about last night?" I demand.
He rolls his big hazel eyes, "Yes, Nevaeh, I know-"
My stomach rolls. "He told you we had sex?"
Gerard's mouth drops open so fast I'm surprised he doesn't break his jaw. "You two had sex?" He gasps, too shrill and too loud.
Oh, god. Oh, god! "You said you knew! He told you-"
Gerard's on his feet, hands over his mouth. "He told me about the Milky Way! And the sunset and that you'd finally spoken about your family. About meeting us before. He didn't tell me you'd fucked!"
I'm panicking, and thinking about lobbing my hairbrush in his direction. "I can't believe-! This is all your fault!"
"My fault!" He hisses, throwing his hands in the air. "It's you two that's been sneaking around-"
"We have not been sneaking around!" I gape, "That's the first time anything like that has happened! It was... Well, it was, like? I don't know, it was a spur of the moment thing. It shocked us both."
"So shocked that you stopped, right?" He quirks an eyebrow.
"Well," I frown, "No."
"So a couple of weeks ago you were in the shower together-" My face flames scarlet, "And now you've slept together, anything else?"
I say it through gritted teeth, "No."
He narrows his eyes, "Nothing?"
I squeeze my eyes closed, "We've been sleeping in the same bed."
Gerard slumps back into the armchair like he's feeling faint. He's gaping at me. "The bastard did not tell me that. You've been sleeping-"
"That's all." I hold up my hands in surrender. "Nothing more. He was struggling, bone-tired-"
He waves a hand, "He's been like that since the beginning of all this. He's always struggled with his sleeping pattern, even before, I'm sure it's why he's so miserable."
I shrug, helpless and unable to meet his eyes. "He slept okay with me while I was sick, so we figured we'd test. It helps. How can I say no?"
Gerard's nodding, but his eyes are narrowed and he's got his fingers against his temple like he's fending off a headache. "Of course you wouldn't turn him away. It's good that he's sleeping. It's great that you're good enough friends that he's comfortable enough to ask. But Nevaeh..." He gives a big sigh and scrubs a hand through his blue hair. "Isn't this all a little complicated?"
I sit on the floor with my back against my bedframe and my legs crossed. "No. It isn't." I insist against his disbelieving frown. "We spoke about it last night. It didn't mean anything, we both agreed. We're still friends, only friends. It was just... In the moment."
Gerard's eyebrows flick upwards, "Did he initiate it?"
My eyes go to the raised and bumpy scars covering my knuckles. "No."
"You did?" He squawks, and blows out a breath. "That's... Not what I expected."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I squint.
"Nothing." He says quickly, and shakes his head. "You're saying there's no feelings? At all?"
I splutter, "Well, I mean... Obviously I care about him. He's a good man, and a good friend. But I don't want anything more than that."
He looks at me with those stark, honest eyes of his. Almost green. "I'm not saying I wouldn't want the two of you to be happy if you did start something-"
"Which we won't-"
"But if things go bad," he waves me away, "We've all got to live with the awkwardness. In the middle of a zombie apocalypse." His eyebrows go up.
"Okay, all right." I hold up my hands, "I get it. Stay away from Frank."
"That isn't what I'm saying." He rolls his eyes and extends a long leg to give my ankle a gentle kick. "I'm saying stay away from Frank unless you're sure."
"Won't be a problem." I say, crossing my heart with my pinky. "Promise. On my black, broken heart."
***
In the weeks after Stonehenge, as the summer starts to slip away, we settle back into routine. I go scavenging every couple of days, only when it's necessary. Everyone else finds ways to stay busy.
Natalie takes up knitting, which is cute of her. A blanket for the winter, she says. Alissa starts to get pretty good at embroidery, and she takes to decorating her own clothes with elaborate, colourful designs. Gerard starts writing, scribbling at paper just as furiously as I do most days.
As the pearly white clouds of summer deepen and darken, and rain comes more often than sunshine, I take everyone out for supplies. One by one, we venture out into the world.
Ray and I have a difficult job in a music shop, caught by a corpse trapped in a locked room. It takes me off my feet before I know what's happened, and Ray saves my life when he wrestles it away and shoves it over a stand of CDs.
Alissa and Mikey and I go together, and they hide while I fight four corpses in a dressing room Alissa insisted on visiting. Frank tends to my scraped palms and my bloody nose and the gouge of flesh taken out of my left hip.
Natalie and Frank have quiet (separate) trips. We come home unscathed and armed with hobbies and clothes and food.
Gerard and I have a rough time. Pandora gets left behind in the car, and the two of us head for a sleek and glossy gym. He wants work-out gear, and we find plenty of it. That, and a dozen big and beefy corpses. They're all in the late stages of decay, with sunken faces and sickly grey skin and patches of missing flesh.
I get thrown into a mirror, which shatters around my back and leaves me gasping for breath. Gerard scoops me up and we book it. Not before we get stuck in a stairwell, with the corpses battering at a door I can't lock.
I brace my back against the rattling door and plant my feet.
"Go, Gerard." I order through gritted teeth as the wood smacks against my spine. "I'll follow as soon as you're at the bottom."
"I'm not fucking leaving you!" He shrieks, eyes wild. He's sweating, and his knuckles are scraped and his cheek is bloody.
"If you don't we'll both die!" I holler back, and I'm furious. "Run, Gerard. Keep running. Now!"
He stares at me, at the little glass window with all those rotten faces pressing in close, and he does it. He turns and runs down the stairs, and he leaves me behind.
"Quickly!" I shout after him, "Keep going, Gerard. Keep running!"
"I'm here!" He yells, and his voice echoes from far below. "The door's open! Come on, Nevaeh!"
I take a deep breath and do a mental check to make sure my ankles and legs and my spine is working properly, and then I run too.
Woodchips rain over my back as the door shatters behind me, and the snarls are loud and full of hunger.
Corpses are clumsy at the best of times, but their rotten, broken feet are not reliable supports on the uneven floor I hurtle down. I hear bodies crashing, shrieking as they tumble after me. One flight down and I'm clear of their destruction, clear of the falling bodies.
Two fly over the bannister and soar four stories down. Even from the third floor up, I hear the bones shatter and the skin tear.
"Nevaeh!" Gerard shouts, and his voice wobbles with relief as I stumble into view.
His hands catch me, and we slip and slide through the mess of the two shattered corpses. The foyer of the gym is blessedly empty, and the doors are heavy. I snatch Gerard's baseball bat and slide it through the handles, bracing the door.
Bodies hit the other side with dull thuds and responding snarls, and the doors heave outwards like a mouth opening to yawn. The bat is wedged tight though, and the barrier holds.
"Are you okay?" I turn towards Gerard, breathless.
His arms are already around my shoulders, his chin on the top of my head, his hold on me painful but welcome.
"Don't ever fucking ask me to leave you behind again." He says into my hair, and his body shakes around mine. I smell his sweat and the salt of his blood and tears.
I chuckle, and pat his back, and lay my cheek against the sharp angle of his collarbone. Too sharp - I need to make sure he's eating more at home.
"Come on," I mutter, and pull out of his arms. His cheek is grazed, and I twist his jaw into the grey sunlight of early afternoon so I can see the wound beneath the blood. "Let's get back to Frank, he'll deal with the injuries."
He's waiting for us in the driveway, sat at the front door like a puppy waiting for it's humans to get home from work. His knees are up by his chest, chin on his forearms, the door open at his back. He perks up as soon as he sees the car.
"He cares too much." I sigh. It's an odd opinion, a harsh opinion, one I didn't realise I had until it's out of my mouth and squatting in the air between us.
"You can't blame him for that." Gerard mutters, as Frank jogs towards us.
Gerard's face is bleeding, and the colour is vivid against his pale skin, so Frank aims for Gerard's side of the car.
He's inside before Gerard can get to the handle.
"Look at the fucking state of him." Frank snaps, and there's an accusation in his eyes when he glances at me.
"She saved my life, Frank." Gerard rushes to my defence, "It's just scrapes, honest."
"Just a scar on this pretty face of yours." Frank grumbles, but his next glance in my direction is apologetic, and his half-smile asks for forgiveness.
I don't offer it, climbing out of the car and slamming the door closed.
I leave them behind as I stomp into the house. Ray is in the kitchen doorway, wiping his hands on a tea-towel. His eyebrows go up as I shed my backpack and weapons and my gloves, leaving a messy trail in my wake.
"How'd it go?" He asks hesitantly as I breeze past him.
"Fantastic," I snarl over my shoulder, "Just ran into a horde of beefy dead gym-bros. Had my fucking ass handed to me. Be sure to check on Gerard though, he has like... Two whole cuts."
I duck into my room and slam the door hard enough to make the frame shudder.
There's a rapid fire knock, ten seconds later.
"Fuck off." I say, and I'm sat on my bed, trying to bend over my knees to untie my laces. My spine is throbbing though, and my muscles won't strain downwards properly.
"Can we talk about it?" Frank asks, and his voice is quiet and full of guilt. I can hear Pandora whining, and I can imagine she's at his hip.
"There's nothing to talk about." My voice is angry because I can't undo my fucking laces.
"Nevaeh, I didn't mean-"
"Just piss off!" I shout, and it's been a while since I shouted at him, at anyone, for anything. I regret it immediately, because he doesn't deserve it, not really. I sigh and scrub a hand through my tangled hair. "I'm tired, Frank. Let me rest."
There's silence on the other side of the door, and he's listened - for once - and I start to breathe deeply, fighting tears, and-
"Can I untie your laces, at least?" The question surprises me, and I look down at the tangled mess I've turned them into by clawing at the string.
I huff, exasperated, loud enough that he hears it and interprets the noise as confirmation.
He slinks into the room like I might be waiting to throw something. He cut his hair a few days ago, sheared it close to his head again. There's stubble on his jaw and his jeans are ripped dramatically at the knees.
He kneels at my feet without speaking.
I sniff, because my nose is starting to run. Frank's shoulders tighten, but his fingers don't stop plucking at my shoes.
"How'd you know I needed help with them?" I ask roughly.
"Because I watched you tie them." He shrugs, "You always wrench them too tight, and Gee told me what happened; guessed you're at least a little hurt."
My scoff acknowledges what he's said, and he picks at the mess in silence, and after five minutes of struggle he pulls my boots off and sets them neatly aside.
"I didn't mean to upset you." He says, still on his knees, head tilted towards the floor.
"I'm not upset."
"You're crying." He disagrees gently.
"I am not fucking crying." I hiss, and the force of my anger makes tears bubble at the corners of my eyes.
"Okay," he holds up his hands, warding me off. "You're not crying," he shrugs, even though he can clearly see tears glisten silver as they spill down my cheeks. "I shouldn't have assumed you didn't look after Gerard. I shouldn't have blamed you. When I saw him bleeding, it just-..." He sighs, and shakes his head.
"Made you angry, because I failed." I snap, because I'm embarrassed at how quickly my voice has become crumpled and shaky. "Because it's my job, and when things go badly I'm the one that has to fix it, and when things go worse it's my fault, and if someone gets hurt, if someone dies, that'll be my fault too."
Frank looks stricken, looks horrified at the words. "I wouldn't ever blame you, Nevaeh. That's not fair-"
"Like Alissa doesn't blame me?" I demand, and I wrench to my feet and pace away from him, so he can't see the cracks appear. "Like Natalie doesn't blame me? For Mark and Drew and everything else?"
I feel his hesitation in the air, but I don't turn to look. "You've... Never spoken about Drew."
"Everyone else has, no doubt." I'm facing the window. I can see the dense forest just beyond the garden wall. "Told you what happened, did they? Told you I went in with him and came out alone?"
"Something like that," Frank mutters.
"I let him die." I say it out loud for the first time, and something snaps in my chest. Something important. "His family were already gone. His sister stayed home sick from school, but she was infected. She was eating his father. Scooping his insides out and slurping them down like they were soup or something. Seeing that... I felt myself go dizzy with the horror of it all, so I don't know what the fuck it did to Drew. It's like he went crazy, right then and there. Just... Came undone. He walked towards her and when I tried to stop him he hit me. By the time I got up-" My voice breaks, and wobbles, but I finish the story. "He didn't even flinch when she bit into him. He told me to leave, so I left."
I wait for the accusation, for the horror. For the confirmation that Frank cannot trust me with any of our lives.
"Sounds like..." A long exhale of breath, "Sounds like there was nothing you could have done."
I spin towards him. "Would you say that if you'd known him?"
Frank is hunched over his knees on the edge of my bed, fingers linked together. He's frowning.
"Yes." He says.
"Liar." I accuse, and I feel my chin wobble ridiculously. "One day I'll come home without Gerard or Ray or Mikey, or you, and I'll never be forgiven for it."
"I wouldn't blame you," he insists, and his eyes are dark and stern. "How could I? How could I hate you for someone dying when you're the only reason all of us are still alive? I saw how you fought for Mark, and random strangers on the fucking street. If you came home... Alone one day, I'd know you'd done everything you could, because that's what you do. Everyone would know the same."
I shake my head and cross my arms over my chest, and blink more tears down my cheeks.
"What's even brought this on?" He opens his hands, imploring and confused. "Because I looked at you funny? I'm sorry-"
"I don't give a shit about that." I wave him away, "It's just... It's been a long day, and it was scary. It could have been worse and it wasn't because I'm the one that took the risks, which is always the case. Which is fine, because I'd rather it be me than you. But... One day I'm going to disappoint you. The same as Alissa and Natalie. One day I won't be able to save one of your friends, just like I couldn't prevent Gerard getting that scratch on his cheek today, and you'll never forgive me."
"Jesus, Nevaeh." Frank's voice is angry, and I don't expect that, so when I turn to look I turn into him as he stands and steps towards me and grabs at my cheeks. His eyes are glistening with tears, and my head rattles as he gives me a little shake. "I'm sorry. There was blood down his face and it panicked me. But his face is his fucking responsibility, just like our lives are our fucking responsibilities. We live in a fucking apocalypse and we're all on borrowed time here, and any of us could die any day, and you're the one that pushes that inevitability back. I'm grateful for that, and I'm sorry I made you feel like I'm not."
Maybe it's the shake he's given my head, rattling some sense into my brain, or perhaps it's the gentle brush of his palms against my cheeks, but something settles in my chest. The clawing panic snatching at the breath in my lungs eases it's attack. My tears dry up, leaving only the damp tracks etched into my flesh.
Frank watches me calm down, and when I give a wooden nod, an acknowledgment of his words, his fingers sink into the hair at the base of my neck. He draws me in, anchoring me to his chest, and he hugs me hard.
I shouldn't let him comfort me. Just like I shouldn't be letting him sleep in my bed, or tend to my wounds. I realise, hard and fast, that I have let Frank inch too close. He gives me one look of judgement, and it's enough to undo all my careful control? To bring me to tears because I've... Disappointed him?
The realisation sends ice into my spine and horror into my heart.
I wrench out of his arms and swipe at my cheeks.
"Thank you for apologising," I tell him, turning away. I can't help but wince as I turn, as my back is jostled. "I'm gonna shower."
He reaches for my wrist, but I twist my arm and his fingers slip off my skin. He's frowning, eyes cautious.
"We're okay, right?" He asks, hesitant. "Me and you?"
"Of course," I shrug, because it doesn't matter. Can't matter. "But I'm dirty and tired. I'm going to shower and rest."
He flinches back, just a little shift away from me, and the guilt that lances through my chest hits hard enough to cause physical pain. But that pain, that protest, convinces me that something must be done. I must wedge some distance between us - I should have done it long ago.
"Well, if you need me-" He offers, and he's looking at me like I've hurt him. The expression disappears quickly, and he closes himself off in record time.
He leaves quietly, and I shower, and I hide in my room for the evening. And when he knocks on my door in the middle of the night, I pretend to be asleep.
***
Fall, 2008
"I reckon it's nearly the end of October." Gerard announces. We're in the back garden, wrapped in blankets and drinking from hot mugs. He's got coffee, I've got tea.
It's a cold morning, though the sky is a clear, unbroken blue. At ground level, the shadows are long and the heat of the sun is faraway. Our breath curls in long ropes of white smoke above us, and the tips of my fingers and the end of my nose are numb with cold.
"It'll soon be winter," I agree with a nod, "I'll have to start preparing properly-"
"Frank's birthday is October 31st." Gerard cuts me off, and watches my face as he does it.
Something must happen, a spasm of awkwardness, or sadness, or panic, because Gerard's dark eyebrows lift and stay high.
Frank hasn't been sleeping in my bed, not since Gerard came home bleeding. He doesn't knock anymore, though he persisted for three nights. He gave up after that, and now he's got plum coloured bruises under his eyes, and he can't get through a sentence without yawning. He's grown irritable.
"So?" I ask, not looking at Gerard.
"So," he nudges me in the side, gently. "I was thinking we could do something to cheer him up. Get him some presents. Have a movie night. Horrors only."
"We have no way of knowing when it actually is-"
"Who gives a shit?" Gerard scoffs, "We pick a day and we'll celebrate then. Get some beer, some pizzas. It'll be fun."
How can I say no? I'd like to do something for Frank. Alissa is going to flip out that we've never celebrated any birthdays, and that we should have been celebrating hers all along, but that's an easy argument.
I give Gerard a smile and a nod of consent, "Get a list from everyone then, I'll get presents and supplies."
He grins, and kisses my forehead, and wraps his arm and his blanket around my shoulders.
We sneak around for the next week, and I venture out a few times for everything we'll need.
Horror movies, party food, alcohol, presents - everything needed to cheer him up. Mikey even ventures out with me, because he's good at picking presents. We don't have any trouble, and return home unscathed.
"So it's a movie night, then?" Mikey asks, we're hiding the presents in his room.
"I was thinking of building a bonfire, actually." I shoot him a glance to check his reaction. "Exchange presents there, do some drinking, then we'll do horror movies that night?"
Mikey's nodding, thoughtful. "He'd like that. Won't it bring... Attention? A big fire?"
I clap him on the shoulder and offer a smile, "We'll do it in early afternoon. When it starts to get dark, I'll stamp it out. Nothing to worry about."
Three days later, we're all up early and in the kitchen for the moment that Frank stumbles out of his room.
His hair is stuck up wildly on one side and flattened to his skull on the other, and there's pillow marks cutting into his cheek and forearm. His eyes are blurry, and the shadows underneath them make my heart squeeze. He's wearing grey jogging bottoms and a Metallica band shirt.
"What the fuck-" His voice is a croak, and he's blinking at the banners and the streamers, and at everyone up and dressed.
"Happy birthday!" Gerard shouts, and Mikey and Ray follow.
"Birthday?" Frank frowns, and scrubs again at his eyes. "Are you out of your goddamn mind?"
"A little," Gerard shrugs, but rushes over to yank on Frank's shoulders until he's in the room and sat at the table. "But we thought we'd celebrate something, at least."
"How're we celebrating?" Frank asks, suspiciously.
I laugh, and he looks at me, and we look away. I turn back to the stove, because I'm cooking pancakes for breakfast.
"We've got plenty," Gerard assures him, "Strippers for breakfast, lunch, and dinner." Frank snorts, "They might be a little... Rotten, though."
"Don't talk about Natalie like that," Alissa smirks, and shoves Nat.
Natalie, in good spirits, shoves her back, "I'd rather be a corpse than a stripper."
Pandora likes the atmosphere, and seems to know that a fuss is being made of Frank, because she settles at his side and rests her head in his lap, whining if he stops stroking her.
"Breakfast," I announce, "Plates ready?"
I've already cooked waffles and chocolate puff-pastry twists. I've diced fruit and laid out chocolate spread, lemon juice and sugar, for the massive pile of hot pancakes I set in the middle of the table.
"I don't get my presents now?" Frank raises an eyebrow.
Gerard rolls his eyes, "You say that as if we haven't got you any."
Frank's mouth drops open, "You got me presents?" He demands, and his cheeks bloom into a glorious shade of petal pink.
"Well," Mikey winces, "We wrote them on paper and Nevaeh looted them. But... Yeah, sure, we got you presents."
I smile around a mouthful of pancake, dripping with lemon juice and crunchy with sugar, "Mikey helped with some of the looting."
Frank seems dumbfounded, and lapses into stunned silence. He scrubs at his hair, looking a little embarrassed.
"The breakfast counts as my present." I tell him, motioning to the full table.
He starts eating immediately, and he has at least two of everything. In fact, every single plate is empty once we're finished and wincing from full bellies.
Ray and Nat clean the dishes, Mikey and Gerard take Frank off to occupy him. Alissa goes to get ready, and I head into the garden - another of my presents to Frank.
I string lights in shades of green and orange. I decorate - thank God it's a dry autumn - with Halloween decorations. Tombstones in the grass, skeletons and witches dangling from the trees and sitting on the roofs of the sheds. Plastic pumpkins and giant spiders can be found all over. Everything gets covered with cobwebs.
Seating is next, and I organise a loose ring of chairs around the fire. Plenty of pillows and blankets make everything comfortable.
Next is the evening meal, which we'll eat in the garden. Pizza for everyone - all different kinds.
While those are cooking, I start the fire.
While I can start a fire from scratch if the situation calls for it, it takes a long ass time and a lot of patience. A match, some kindling, and a small soaking of lighter fluid is the easier option, and the wood pile is crackling happily in under ten minutes.
"Holy fucking shit-" I turn, and Gerard is in the doorway of the house, looking out at the garden.
I turn to look at my work, and panic sets in. "Is it not enough?"
He laughs, loud and long, hand on his stomach. "Not enough?" His head tilts sympathetically, "Oh, you sweet, sweet baby."
I don't know what that means, so I just nod towards the kitchen. "The pizzas need to be taken out. They'll be done by now."
He turns immediately to do as he's told, and I make some last minute adjustments to everything. Just as I'm about to step into the kitchen to help Gerard, I hear him talking.
"Dude!" His voice is hushed, excited. "Have you seen the garden? Fucking amazing."
Ray's animated whisper answers, "Looked from my bedroom window. That's a declaration if ever I saw one."
My stomach swoops, and it feels like my brain short-circuits.
"What? No way, man. She just likes to make an effort."
I release a relieved breath as Gerard deflects Ray's assumption.
"Right, and Frank just likes to apologise." Ray snorts.
"I dunno why you're so hung up on-" Gerard hisses, and I step into the kitchen.
"We all ready?" I ask, loudly, "Are they done, Gerard?"
"Is what done?" Frank asks, as he steps into the kitchen from the hallway.
His eyes are dark, and his eyebrows are crinkled in a frown, and I wonder if we've both been listening.
All four of us look at each other for a long second. Frank and I are expectant, Ray and Gerard look like they both want to sink into the floor.
"We're having pizza for tea." I inform Frank, voice neutral. "Gerard?"
He jumps, and spins for the oven. "Yes! Yes, they're all cooked. Just hauling them out."
"I'm just..." Ray scoops up a spatula, "Helping."
"The fuck is that glow?" Frank asks, distracted and squinting.
He joins me in the doorway, and I turn to look as he does. His eyes flare wide when he sees the fire and the seating around it, but it's only when he sees the Halloween decorations that he steps out into the garden and lets his mouth drop open.
There's still sunlight left, the sun only just tipping towards the far end of the horizon, taking it's warmth with it. Still, there isn't any sun in the garden, just shadows and the chill of autumn, and Frank walks into the darker corners of the garden to see the decorations.
He high-fives one of the skeletons arranged in a sitting position on the edge of the rotten trampoline.
"This real?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow at me. I've followed at a safe distance, watching his face as he moves.
"Oh, obviously." I nod, "Skinned the corpse myself."
"Obviously." He grins, quiet. He stoops to pick up a plastic pumpkin, rolling it in his hands like it's a basketball. "Whose idea was this?"
I shrug and look away, "Mine."
"You did all this?" He checks.
"Gerard wanted to celebrate your birthday," I deflect quickly, "It was his idea-"
"But the garden." Frank waves a hand to the space. To the lights and the fire and the decorations. "That was you?"
"That was me." I confirm, and before I've stopped speaking he's wrapped me up in a hug. His arms are strong and his grip on me is stronger, and I let my arms settle around his shoulders. I breathe him in, and he smells of strawberry shower gel and mint toothpaste and the smoke of the fire.
He lets me go after only a moment, stepping back out of my space. I miss the warmth of him.
"I love Halloween," he explains, apologetic.
"It's my favourite holiday." I shrug. Not that I put the effort in for the holiday's sake. Sure, I've missed Halloween decorations and handing out sweets to little goblins and princesses, but... I made the effort for Frank.
"Holy fucking Christ!" There's a shout, and we turn to see Alissa surveying the garden. "I best get this fucking effort for my birthday, Nevaeh."
I roll my eyes at Frank, and he grins, and we turn to join everyone as they come into the garden to see my work.
"Your birthday doesn't fall on a holiday." I shrug, as I pick a chair and drape a blanket over my shoulders.
"It's in May," Alissa gripes, "We could celebrate May Day."
I snort, "Sure, okay, we'll celebrate May Day."
"And my birthday." She insists, "The most important thing."
"And your birthday," I confirm.
Gerard brings the pizzas out on massive plates and passes them around, and we all take scorching hot slices from various platters. Ray hefts the boxes of alcohol, and I take a fruity cider rather than a beer. Mikey extends the CD player to the back door of the kitchen and inches it just loud enough to be heard over the crackle of the fire.
Pandora snaps a slice of pizza from Gerard's fingers, and she settles under his feet, head on her paws.
We sip at the beer and make a considerable dent in the platters of pizza, talking quietly amongst ourselves. Frank's sat opposite, between Mikey and Gerard.
"The garden looks great, Nevaeh." Mikey says, and lifts his beer bottle in a cheers to me.
I smile, grateful for the thanks. "Happy Halloween, everyone." I include everyone in the cheers, and turn my eyes to Frank. "And happy birthday," I incline my head. He winks, and I grin. "I'm sorry it can't be louder."
He shrugs, waving away the apology. "This is more than enough. Thank you, everyone."
"We're not done yet!" Gerard exclaims, and rushes back into the kitchen. He comes back with an armful of presents, wrapped haphazardly.
He dumps them all in Frank's lap, and he wheezes under the blow, bringing his knees up protectively.
"Sorry!" Gerard winces, patting Frank's shoulder.
"It's my future children you should be apologising to, man." He gasps back, clutching at his crotch.
Eventually, when he's caught his breath and we've all stopped sniggering at him, he gets to the pile of presents.
It's music - mostly. Ray gets him vinyl records. Mikey gets him a new hoodie with a Misfits logo emblazoned on the back. Gerard gets him a new pair of black Converse, which don't have holes in them. Alissa gets him a pile of beauty products (black nail polish, good shampoo and conditioner, and face masks). Natalie passes him a small, wrapped package.
He unravels it to reveal a pair of black fingerless gloves.
"I knitted them myself," she says, defensively. "It was my first try, so they're a bit-"
"They're perfect." He shakes his head, and slides them on immediately. "Thanks, Nat."
She nods, and they don't look at each other, and I swap a smile with Gerard.
"And... I wonder who this is from." He hefts the last package, wrapped badly in a bin bag. I wince as he unravels the parcel, and a wicked sharp axe falls into his lap. He hefts it, turning it over in the light of the fire.
It's black as pitch, with a solid metal handle wrapped in black rubber for a comfortable hold. It's a dangerous, menacing thing.
Everyone looks at me like I'm a lunatic.
I feel heat flare into my cheeks, "I-... I'm bad at presents."
"That's for fucking sure." Alissa wrinkles her nose.
Frank tips his head back to laugh, and when he looks at me there's nothing but laughter in his eyes. No judgment, and no disappointment. "This is rad. I love it. Really, I do. I'll be the coolest motherfucker around."
I'm pleased.
We keep things quiet, but the occasion feels joyful. Stories are swapped, memories spoken aloud and given over to the fire and the sky. Mostly about Frank; about that time he sliced Ray's head open with a guitar. About the time he kicked Gerard in the ass during a show and sent him flying into a fan, popping his lip. In fact, almost every story they regale us with are injuries caused by Frank. There are drunken mishaps, unfortunate encounters with the opposite sex, brawls in parking lots with other bands. A couple of stories deep, even Natalie is giggling.
"We should play a game." Gerard announces loudly, and I glare. He winces, "A quiet one."
"Truth or dare!" Alissa pleads, hands clasped.
"No way," Natalie shakes her head, "Absolutely not."
"Awh what?!" Mikey gapes, "Why?"
"Agreed," Ray shakes his head and his hands. "Not with this group."
Nat takes a drag on her beer, "There are too many people present that have no sense of self-preservation." Her eyes cut to me, scathing.
I bristle. "That's hardly fair."
"Sorry, did I say people, plural?" Natalie tilts her head, "I meant you, specifically."
"She's right, Nat." Gerard reaches over Mikey to pat Natalie's knee, "That is unfair. Frank once dangled himself out of a fourth story window because Mikey bet he wouldn't."
Mikey lets his forehead fall into his palm. "I didn't think he'd actually do it."
"Okay, okay." Gerard thinks for a second, and sips on a non-alcoholic cocktail. "Then it's got to be... Never Have I Ever."
Groans all around, but the general consensus is that we're willing. Ray passes out more bottles of alcohol, and Gerard makes a big show of tapping his chin and humming thoughtfully.
"I'll start," Frank says, glaring at Gerard playfully. "Considering it's my birthday. Hmm... Okay. Never have I ever... Smelt so bad I made a woman physically gag."
Gerard gasps, betrayed, and has to take a sip of his mocktail. We dissolve into laughter.
"Never have I ever..." Alissa cuts in, "Killed a corpse with a part of it's own body."
I throw my hands up, and as the men gape, I have to take a pull of my cider. "Okay, all right. That's enough of the overly specific ones. Can't we have some generics?"
"Dude," Ray's looking at me with wide eyes, "What did you kill it with?"
I sigh and cut Alissa a harsh glance, "One of it's ribs."
Ray whistles, impressed. "Never have I ever... Broken a bone."
"Never have I ever..." Gerard hums, "Gone skinny dipping."
"Never have I ever..." I purse my lips, "Stole something valuable."
We carry on, rotating around the circle quickly. Drinking quicker. Stories are told in between rounds, of the time Frank broke both his ankles skateboarding, or when Alissa cheated on a test in school off the person next to her, or when Gerard got kicked out of a bar for puking in a corner. Natalie has stolen a pair of expensive jeans, Mikey has had sex in a bathroom. All of us have lied to our parents, and none of us have ever been stuck in a lift.
"Never have I ever," Mikey struggles for a second, cuts a glance at Alissa, "Had sex."
The mood swoops, and awkwardness fills the air. Natalie looks down, and Alissa rolls her eyes.
"Whatever," She shrugs, and swigs her beer. "It's not like there's opportunity in the middle of a zombie plague." Natalie looks steeled by Alissa's confession, and chugs at her cider.
Eyes turn to me, expectant. I keep my face as blank as it can possibly be.
Natalie looks, and her eyebrows go up. "Why aren't you drinking?"
I keep my voice even, "I'm... Not a virgin."
Her mouth drops open. "You were a virgin at school."
"We're not in school anymore, Nat." I say reasonably.
"But..." Alissa's frowning, "How the hell have you had the opportunity?"
I scrub a hand through my hair, mortified to have everyone's full attention on such a private subject.
"I've been out in the world more than you, Alissa." I roll my eyes, "I've met plenty of human beings. Did you think it was just me against armies of undead?"
"Sort of!" She exclaims, and I hush her.
"Running into Frank and Ray that day, things like that weren't uncommon." I shrug, waving a hand to the men, "People are few and far between now, but there were plenty in the beginning. I usually sent them on their way."
"After you had sex with them?" She raises her eyebrows.
"That's out of order," Gerard frowns.
"It's none of anyone's business, anyway." Frank cuts in, voice hard.
"So you... Gave your virginity to a complete stranger?" Natalie is turned towards me, knees against my thigh. Her eyes are guarded.
Frank tenses, and I wonder why, and then I realise he must think he's the one who got my virginity, and that isn't true, of course.
"That's exactly what happened." I say, almost defiant, and Frank's mouth drops open, but then, so does everyone else's. "I met him in a bookshop. We... Well, it was... Spur of the moment, I guess."
"A whirlwind romance?" Gerard smiles, looking to lighten the mood.
My stomach swoops, and I look down, and I pick at the label on my cider bottle. Pick away the declaration of strawberry and lime and raspberry. "I killed him, actually."
A hush, so thick and so choking it feels like cigarette smoke in the lungs. Like early morning mist, too thick to wade through.
"His name was Evan." I tell them, because I must finish the story now that it's been started. "He was a good guy. Pretty. He had a gap between his two front teeth and he was... Gentle, I suppose. Desperate to feel something, like I was. We met at that bookshop for a good two weeks. One day he stops showing," I shrug, "Thought that was the end of it, fair enough, I wasn't attached. A week later I spot him in a horde. Snarling. Eyes black as coal. So I did for him what I hope he'd have done for me." Another shrug, a long drag on my cider, and I wish now I'd made myself a stronger drink.
I look around, finding sympathy in every pair of eyes. Gerard looks at me like I'm a kicked puppy, and even Alissa looks mournful.
"Anyone else?" Natalie asks, and she's not sympathetic. She's... Annoyed.
My temper chokes me, and I can't help but spit it out of my mouth. "Sure. There was a tattoo artist a few months later. She was nice too."
Frank spits alcohol into the fire, and we all flinch as it flares too high with a hiss of heat.
Natalie and I stare at each other, and I don't know why she's angry. Maybe she's jealous that I've had the experience and she hasn't. Maybe she doesn't like that I didn't tell her. Everyone shifts, awkward.
I sigh. "Never have I ever..." I tilt my head back, thinking. "Thought Batman & Robin was a good film."
Everyone is forced to drink.