My Secret Zombie #2
Mara is the new girl at school, and she’s determined to keep her head down and stay unnoticed. There’s just one problem: Mara is hiding a secret she can’t even explain.
She’s dead.
Or at least, she thinks she is. Mara has no idea how she came back or why she’s still alive. But the closer she gets to discovering the truth, the more dangerous her secret becomes. Then there’s Jake. He’s popular, confident, and seems to have everyone at school wrapped around his finger. But behind the perfect smile is a boy who keeps everyone at a distance. Everyone except Mara. As Jake starts falling for the mysterious new girl, Mara finds herself falling for him too. But Jake doesn’t know what Mara really is, and Mara doesn’t know how long she can keep pretending to be normal. When the truth about Mara finally comes to light, Jake will have to decide whether he can love a girl who was never supposed to be alive in the first place.
Some secrets are meant to stay buried
Jake
SAME ROUTINE
My locker jams halfway open again.
“Dude,” Brayden says behind me, laughing, “one day that thing’s actually gonna break.”
“It’s been doing this since freshman year.”
“Then maybe stop abusing it.”
I shove my shoulder against the metal door until it finally jerks open with a loud clang.
“There,” I mutter.
“Real gentle.”
I glance back at him. “You offering to fix it?”
“Absolutely not.”
Michael leans against the locker beside him, scrolling through his phone while Brayden keeps talking. The hallway around us is crowded enough that people keep brushing past shoulders without apologizing. Somebody farther down yells loud enough for half the building to hear.
Normal afternoon.
I shove a notebook into my locker and loosen my grip on my backpack strap. My shoulders ache slightly from carrying it around all day.
Brayden watches me for a second before grinning.
“So.”
I already know that tone.
“No.”
“I didn’t even say anything yet.”
“You were about to.”
Michael snorts quietly without looking up from his phone.
Brayden points between us. “See? Jake knows me.”
“That’s not a compliment.”
“It should be.”
I shake my head, trying not to laugh while Brayden steps closer dramatically like he’s about to pitch some life-changing idea.
“River tonight.”
There it is.
I lean against the open locker. “Thought we already talked about this.”
“We mentioned it. Different thing.”
“You talked. I listened.”
“Barely.”
Michael finally locks his phone and slips it into his pocket. “Honestly, you should probably come.”
I look over at him. “You too?”
“Yes, me too.”
Brayden throws his hands up immediately. “Exactly. Michael never cares enough to convince people to do anything.”
“That’s because I usually don’t.”
“Which means this is serious.”
“It’s not serious,” Michael says. “I’m just saying you’ve been weird lately.”
I stare at him. “Weird how?”
“You disappear all the time.”
“I go home.”
“Exactly,” Brayden says.
I laugh under my breath and shove another notebook into my locker. “You two act as if I live in a cave.”
“You basically do.”
“That’s dramatic.”
“No,” Brayden says, “what’s dramatic is you being seventeen years old and acting eighty.”
Michael nods once like he fully agrees.
I shake my head slowly. “You guys are annoying.”
“But we’re right.”
Around us, the hallway slowly starts thinning out as classes let out. Groups of people push toward the exits in loud clusters, conversations echoing off the walls. Someone drops a metal water bottle nearby and the sound bounces through the hallway hard enough to make a few people look over.
Brayden doesn’t stop talking long enough to notice.
“There’s gonna be drinks,” he says.
“That definitely convinced him,” Michael mutters.
“I’m serious,” Brayden continues. “Everybody’s gonna be there tonight.”
“Everybody is always there.”
“Exactly.”
I stare at him for a second.
“That’s your argument?”
“Yes.”
I laugh once and lean back against the locker harder.
The truth is, river nights are never really special. It’s always the same thing. Music loud enough to distort through cheap speakers, people standing around in groups pretending they aren’t freezing once the sun goes down, somebody getting too drunk too fast and embarrassing themselves before midnight.
Half the time, I only go because everyone else does.
The other half, I don’t go at all.
Brayden studies my face for a second. “You’re thinking about saying no already.”
“I haven’t even answered.”
“That’s how I know.”
Michael glances toward me. “You really don’t wanna come?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
I shrug slightly. “I don’t know. Just tired, I guess.”
Brayden groans loudly. “See? SEE? This is exactly what I’m talking about.”
A few people passing by glance over.
“You’re so dramatic,” I tell him.
“And you’re boring.”
“Damn,” Michael says quietly. “He got you there.”
I shove Brayden lightly away from my locker, and he laughs immediately.
“You know what your problem is?” he says.
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“You think too much.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It does. You act like every invitation is a life decision.”
“I literally just said I was tired.”
“Which is old man language.”
Michael nods. “Again, he’s got a point.”
I look between both of them. “Why are you guys acting like this is some huge event?”
“Because there are gonna be hot girls there,” Brayden says immediately.
Michael closes his eyes briefly, as if he regrets knowing him.
I laugh. “There it is.”
“I’m just being honest.”
“You sound desperate.”
“I AM desperate.”
“That’s sad.”
“No, what’s sad is you almost missing bikini weather because you wanna go home and stare at your ceiling.”
I shake my head, but I can already feel myself giving in a little.
Not because Brayden’s making good points.
Mostly because going home suddenly sounds boring.
The hallway’s quieter now than it was earlier, but there’s still enough noise to fill the space. Laughter. Conversations. Lockers closing. Sneakers squeaking against the floor.
Energy.
Movement.
It’s weird. A few hours ago, all I wanted was for the day to end.
Now the thought of sitting alone in my apartment feels dull.
Brayden notices the shift in my expression immediately and points at me dramatically.
“There.”
“What?”
“That look.”
“What look?”
“The one where you pretend you’re not considering something even though you obviously are.”
“I’m literally standing here.”
Michael laughs quietly beside him. “He kinda got you again.”
“You’re both irritating.”
“But are we wrong?” Brayden asks.
I don’t answer right away.
He grins wider instantly. “Exactly.”
I let out a slow breath and glance down the hallway toward the front doors, where people are still filtering outside into the late afternoon sun.
River tonight.
Bonfire probably.
Music.
Drinks.
Too many people.
The same kind of night it always is.
Still…
Maybe that’s not the worst thing.
Brayden steps closer again. “Come on. Say yes.”
“You act like this matters way too much.”
“It DOES matter.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“To me it does.”
Michael shakes his head. “That somehow made this more embarrassing.”
Brayden ignores him completely. “Seven thirty.”
“I never said yes.”
“But you’re going to.”
I stare at him for another second before finally sighing.
“Fine.”
Brayden throws both hands into the air immediately. “YES.”
“You’re embarrassing.”
“I don’t care.” He points at me. “And don’t wear some depressing outfit either.”
“It’s a river.”
“And there will be girls there.”
Michael laughs under his breath. “You say that like Jake’s never interacted with a woman before.”
“You’d be surprised.”
I shove Brayden’s shoulder again and start walking away from the lockers before he can keep going.
Both of them follow beside me as we head toward the front doors.
Brayden immediately starts talking about who’s showing up tonight, but after a while, most of it fades into background noise. I only catch pieces of the conversation.
Someone bringing speakers.
Someone bringing drinks.
A bonfire near the water.
People staying late.
The river at night.
The closer we get to the exit, the warmer the sunlight spilling through the glass doors becomes. Students crowd around the front steps outside, lingering in groups before heading home.
For a second, I zone out while Brayden keeps talking.
And without meaning to, my mind drifts somewhere else.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
Pale skin.
Cold hands brushing against mine for half a second before I pulled away.
I frown slightly.
“Yo,” Brayden says suddenly. “You alive?”
I blink and look over. “What?”
“You disappeared for a second.”
“I’m listening.”
“No, you’re not.”
Michael studies me briefly. “You thinking about something?”
“Not really.”
Brayden narrows his eyes dramatically. “A girl?”
I laugh once. “No.”
“That was way too fast.”
“I’m serious.”
But even after I say it, I still see her for a second in the back of my mind.
Quiet.
Still.
Looking at everything like she was trying to understand it instead of actually being part of it.
And for some reason, she’s harder to stop thinking about than she should be.
Mara
Dull and lifeless
The walk back is quieter once I leave campus.
Cars pass every few minutes on the road beside me, headlights flashing briefly through the trees before disappearing again. The evening air is warm, but the farther I walk from campus, the cooler everything feels.
Most students head towards there parents home after school. Places with lights in the windows and people waiting inside. Voices through open windows. TVs playing too loud. People living normal lives.
I go the opposite direction.
The sidewalk eventually disappears near the edge of the woods, giving way to uneven dirt and patches of dead grass. The path is narrow enough that most people probably wouldn’t notice it unless they already knew it was there.
That’s why I chose it.
The deeper I walk into the trees, the quieter the world becomes. No conversations. No cars nearby. Just the sound of my shoes pressing into dirt and branches shifting softly overhead.
I know this path well already.
The shed sits deep enough into the woods that nobody comes near it. Most people probably think it’s abandoned.
They’d be right.
The roof sags slightly near one side, old wood bending inward with age. Half the paint peeled away years ago, leaving the outside faded and rough. One of the windows is cracked badly enough that light slips through the corner during the day.
I stop outside for a second, listening carefully.
Nothing.
No movement nearby.
No voices.
Just wind moving through leaves.
I step inside and shut the door behind me.
The smell of dust and old wood settles around me immediately. The inside is small. Barely enough room for the mattress pushed against the wall and the few things I keep here.
A duffel bag.
Blankets.
Clothes folded neatly beside the mattress.
A flashlight.
A small mirror hanging crookedly near the door.
Nothing personal.
Nothing unnecessary.
I stand there for a moment without moving.
The silence feels heavier tonight.
Usually, I like that.
Tonight I don’t.
My backpack slips from my shoulder onto the mattress with a dull thud. I press my hand lightly against my stomach afterward, waiting for the ache to settle.
It doesn’t.
It’s worse tonight.
Being around him all day made sure of that.
I can still remember it clearly.
Sitting beside him in class.
The warmth of his skin brushing mine for half a second.
The smell became harder to ignore the closer I sat.
My stomach tightens sharply again.
I hate this feeling.
Not because it hurts.
Because it’s getting harder to control.
I pull my hoodie over my head slowly and toss it onto the mattress beside my bag. My jeans follow a second later. The cooler air brushes against my skin immediately, but I barely notice it anymore.
Most temperatures stopped bothering me a long time ago.
I crouch near the duffel bag and unzip it carefully.
Everything inside is folded neatly. Dark shirts. Shorts. Extra socks. Clothes simple enough that nobody would remember seeing them.
I pull out a loose black T-shirt and a pair of gray shorts before changing quickly.
The fabric hangs comfortably against my skin, soft from being washed too many times. Simple clothes. Easy to move in.
I sit on the edge of the mattress afterward and reach for my Converse near the wall.
They’re old now.
Black fabric faded near the toes. Rubber peeling slightly around on of the edges. One lace thinner than the other from being replaced too many times.
Still usable.
That’s enough.
I slide them on slowly and tie the laces while staring down at my hands.
Still steady.
That should make me feel better.
It doesn’t.
Because underneath that stillness, I can feel the hunger sitting there waiting.
Not normal hunger.
Something worse.
Something sharper.
It curls beneath my ribs every time I think too hard about today.
About class.
About him.
Even thinking of him makes my stomach tighten again.
I lean back slightly on the mattress after tying the second shoe, staring toward the ceiling above me.
The wood overhead is stained with age, dark lines spreading unevenly across it from years of weather and neglect.
This place barely feels real sometimes.
Just temporary.
Like I’m waiting for something.
Or hiding from it.
My eyes drift toward the mirror hanging beside the door.
I stare at it for a second before finally standing.
The floor creaks softly underneath my weight as I move closer.
For a moment, I just look at myself.
Dark hair falling past my shoulders.
Pale skin that almost looks gray beneath the dim lighting, all dull and lifeless.
Brown eyes too dark under the shadows around them.
Still.
Quiet.
Wrong somehow.
I lift a hand and touch the side of my neck lightly.
Cold.
Always cold.
He noticed it today.
I know he did.
The memory flashes through my head instantly.
His hand brushing mine.
The way he pulled back immediately afterward.
Like instinct warned him before his mind could.
I stare at my reflection a second longer before looking away.
The silence inside the shed presses harder around me tonight.
Too quiet.
Too empty.
I move back toward the mattress and grab my backpack again.
The zipper catches halfway before finally sliding shut.
A dark stain marks part of the fabric near the bottom corner.
Old.
I look at it for a second too long before turning the bag over quickly.
Don’t think about it.
I sling the backpack over one shoulder and glance around the shed one last time.
Nothing changes here either.
Same mattress.
Same walls.
Same silence.
I should stay.
That thought hits me again immediately.
Stay here.
Avoid people.
That would be smarter.
Safer.
But even thinking that, I already know I’m leaving anyway.
Because staying here somehow feels worse tonight.
I move toward the door slowly and rest my hand against the handle for a second.
Still cold.
Still steady.
Outside, the woods wait in complete silence.
I take one slow breath before stepping out of the shed and pulling the door shut behind me.
Then I start walking toward the river.
