Free Adventures of a Middle School Zombie by Scott Craven Page A

others.”
    “Jed, just a minute, you can’t arbitrarily decide to—” but I was out the door and in the empty hallway. If I’d needed to breathe, my lungs would be heaving right now. What had been done to those frogs, the way their life—real life, not biological life—had been taken away … And for science. I really wasn’t a big fan of science.
    Memories flashed quickly. Needles, scalpels, probes, scopes … more lab visits, always with the doctors promising that this would be the last time, they just want to check one more thing, maybe they can make it all better.
    As if something was wrong with me.
    I leaned against the wall, a little dizzy. It struck me how quiet the halls could be when empty, as opposed to between classes, when the shouts and constant buzz of conversation filled them.
    School officials frown on kids who leave class for no reason. I scanned for security, hoping to get to kill some time before my next class without being caught. If I could just find an empty room and sit until the bell rang, I might avoid earning detention.
    My next class was across the quad, so I headed toward the double doors, walking in an exaggerated heel-to-toe to make as little noise as possible on the linoleum floors.
    But first, a stop in the boys’ room. A little water on my face to straighten me out.
    As soon as the door opened, a thick cloud of smoke enveloped me. Through it, I saw Robbie’s glare.
    Had I been a breather, the scent of tobacco would have alerted me to stay far away from this particular boys’ room. Too late now.
    I turned, placing my palm flat on the still-open door, took a step—
    “Where do you think you’re going, Zom-boy?” A hand gripped my shoulder. Where had that come from?
    The hand pulled, spinning me around. There was Ben, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, a wisp of blue smoke floating from its ashen tip.
    “Zombiessaywhat?” Ben mumbled.
    “Huh?”
    “Zombiessaywhat?”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “You were supposed to say—oh, never mind,” he said, stepping aside. “C’mon in. Party’s just getting started. Now.”
    Robbie leaned against the sinks, his legs crossed at the ankles, hands braced on the beige counter. A cigarette, apparently freshly lit, was stuck between the first and middle finger of his right hand. He pushed himself away and beckoned to me with the cigarette hand. Joe stood against the opposite wall, blowing a plume of smoke above him.
    “DJ, so good to see you,” Robbie said. “What, didn’t have the heart to dissect a poor little frog? Must be a dead thing, right? Having that in common and all.”
    I backed up, realizing only then that Ben had slipped behind me.
    “Where ya going, Zom-boy,” Joe said. “You just got here. Enjoy.”
    Robbie pushed off the counter, reaching into the pocket of his black jacket.
    “You know, DJ, you’ve been very good to me,” Robbie said. “My GPA is up to, what is it now, Bennie?”
    “I think around two-point-seven,” Ben said.
    “Are you so stupid that you can’t even keep track of your own GPA? Really?” I really wanted to say that. But didn’t. They couldn’t kill me, but they were capable of just about anything else.
    “Damn, two-point-seven, DJ, did you hear that?” Robbie said. “From what I understand, that’s solid C territory. That’s passing. It’s brand-new territory for me. And I have you to thank.”
    “(That’s OK),” I said, barely.
    “Sorry, didn’t quite pick that up,” Robbie said. “What’d you say?”
    “I said it’s OK.”
    “That’s quite neighborly of ya, DJ, it really is. I think maybe if I were you, I’d be put out by our little arrangement. I mean you give and you give.”
    “(Sure).”
    “What?”
    “Sure.”
    “But really, sometimes you give too much. Like you did in the locker room. Have to tell you, Deadeye Jedi, that was going beyond the call.”
    “(Sorry).”
    “What?”
    “I’m sorry about that, it’s nothing I can