“Here. You feel pretty cold,” He said as he took off his sweatshirt and draped it over my shoulders.

All I can do is smile sweetly and allow him to do so. I cannot deny it. I am cold. My body is the temperature of whatever room I sit in. It’s been this way since the day I took my last breath.

Yes, I am dead.

Literally.

As in no longer living.

Does he know that? Not at all. He never asked me, so I never had a reason to tell.

Please do not fret; I am not a zombie the craves brains or anything of the sort. I’m just dead. I have no heartbeat. I do not breathe.  My life functions just stopped one day.

I don’t have rotting flesh hanging everywhere, so it’s easy for someone to think I’m just a normal girl who is probably anemic: I always look exhausted with dark circles around my eyes, my body is fairly cool to the touch, and my skin is fairly pale.

I don’t eat.

I never sleep.

The normal qualities of a teenager my age.

Nobody ever suspects me of being undead.

I socialize as well as the next awkward teen. I like doing fun things. I have school. And as you probably have already guessed, I have a boyfriend too.

A boyfriend who doesn’t know I’m dead…

“Serena, are you okay? You look a bit spaced out,” he says as he moves into my field of vision.

Drat I must have forgotten to blink again! Do I look like I’m breathing? Yes? Good.

“Sorry, Andrew. I’m fine really.” As fine as a dead person can be. “I was just thinking is all. Didn’t mean to worry you.” Quick! Blink twice with roughly half a second between each one!

He put his arm around my shoulder in a comforting gesture, “Feel free to think out loud,” he said giving his signature smile; the one that makes my heart skip a beat…well it would if I actually had a heartbeat…

It pains me to not be able to tell Andrew the truth about my non-existant life, but I don’t want him to treat me any different than he does now. “Oh it’s nothing,” Flutter eyelashes and breathe.

“You sure?” He raises his eyebrow inquisitively then quickly changes expressions with a grin and a knowing twinkle in his eye. “I know. You must be hungry. It’s okay; I’m hungry too. How’d you like to share some cheese fries and a milkshake? There’s this cool place down the road that makes the best mint chocolate chip shake ever. My treat!”

Before I could answer he grabbed my hand and darted down the sidewalk with me in tow. I’m trying not to trip or anything; my body doesn’t heal very well anymore. But even if I did manage to fall and break my leg, I doubt I would feel it.

He let go of my hand but didn’t slow his pace. “Here Serena, I’ll race you!” he said as he took off.

Luckily being dead does not limit my athletic abilities, so I run in pursuit. I manage to run beside him showing no signs of fatigue.

Drat! Live people can’t do that!

I slow down and let him win. He’s panting heavily now. He must have been running at top speed. Geez, he would DEFINATELY not survive a zombie apocalypse.

“Wow Serena,” he says trying to catch his breath, “I didn’t know you were so fast! You sure you’re not an athlete underneath that soft and quiet demeanor? You haven’t broken a sweat!”

I haven’t? Oh fiddlesticks! I pretend to breath a little heavier. “I used to do Track and Field before I met you.” I lied.

“Used to? You should keep it up. You’re a champion!” He patted me on the back before taking my hand again and taking me inside the diner.

We sat down and he ordered the snack that he promised. However I have a slight problem: I don’t eat. I don’t need to. What part of no life functions do you not understand?

I look around nervously fiddling with my lifeless hands in my lap. How am I doing to get out of this one? I can’t just say I’m not hungry; that would be rude.

“Um, Andrew.” I chime quietly, “I never mentioned this before but I’m lactose intolerant and on a strict diet. I think I’ll pass on the snack.” I deserve a trophy for that excuse.

He looks at me incredulously, “Seriously!? Gods, I am so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

No.

Oh no.

He’s giving me that look.

Not the one that makes my figurative heart skip a beat, but the other look; the look that makes me feel like I kicked a puppy.

His eyes overflowed with concern and his face fell into a slight pout. His head tilts just a little to the side. Oh gods he just really doesn’t know! And the guilt is killing me…wait…poor choice of words…

I shouldn’t.

I really shouldn’t.

But I can’t leave him sitting here upset. He was obviously looking forward to this. Sigh. Why didn’t my death kill my conscience?

“Here, Andrew,” I look directly in his eyes not forgetting to blink and keep my pupils focused on his, “I suppose since it is you, I can indulge a little.”

His face lit up immediately, “Really! You’re the best Serena!” At least one of us thinks that. “But no milkshake for you, got it? I don’t want you sick.”

The food makes it to the table and all I can do is stare at it. What have I gotten myself into? I agree to eat, but I cannot eat. So I’m sitting here feeling like an idiot while he munches on these golden fries drenched in cheese that look delectable. He glances at me every moment or so expecting me to join in the meal. What do I do?

Wait! I have a plan!

Taking up a fork, I stab through one of the fries and place it into my mouth. I cannot taste anything, but by the look on his face, he’s definitely pleased that I finally ate something.

I’ll take a few more bites before I put my plan into action.

One.

Two.

Three.

Three and a half.

Five and three quarters; that was a big bite you know.

That’s it. No more. I think it looks like I’ve had enough.

“Hey, I’ll be back,” I say as I stand up, “I’m gonna head to the restroom, okay.”

He gives me a worried glance as his mouth is filled with the minty milkshake. He makes a muffled sound that roughly translated to, “Are you okay?” in which I replied with a quick nod and turned to leave.

I walk inside and make sure no other individual is in any of the other stalls; I don’t want to scare them with what I planned to do.

Thank goodness being dead has killed my gagging reflex and makes me immune to choking.

Opening my mouth, I reach my hand down my throat feeling for the food I just consumed.

Where is it….where is it……got it!

Withdrawing my hand and a handful of undigested fries I toss them into a vacant toilet. Forcing a few more coughs to clear my throat, I free my digestive tract of any remaining particles. There we go. All good.

Taking a quick look into the mirror rinse out my mouth at the sink and smooth my hair. I grab some lip gloss from my pocket and reapply it to my lips.

What?

I may be dead but I have pride in my appearance!

I open the door to leave the ladies room and Andrew is standing there with his “heart wrenching” disappointed look on his face.

“You did NOT go in there to throw all that up did you? Don’t lie to me,” he folded his arms, “I heard you coughing. If you have some eating disorder, I SWEAR I will not hesitate to tell anyone and everyone who can help you.”

My eyes widened as I let the door close behind me, “Um…Andrew. Look—I swear I’m not—“

He narrowed and lowered his eyes as his voice took a serious tone, “Serena…”  His foot tapped impatiently.

I couldn’t get out of this one. Darn it! I thought I was being careful! Geez, Andrew is more observant than I give him credit for…

He blocked my way so I couldn’t sneak around him. I could feel his gaze tearing into me waiting for a response. I’m trapped.

“Fine. I give. But you cannot freak out.” I sigh in defeat. “And we should leave too. I don’t want anyone overhearing this.” I look away from his face. His stare was killing me…heh.

He said nothing as he held onto my shoulders and led me out of the restaurant. Throwing money onto the table to pay for the meal, he did not even wait for the waiter to come back.

We walked a safe distance from the restaurant and down a dark alleyway where no person could evesdrop.

“Alright. Start talking.” He stood back on one foot and folded his arms.

“Well for starters, I’m not some sick person, if that’s what youre thinking.” I start with my eyes glued to the concrete. “It’s something much more.”

“If it’s that serious, why haven’t you told anyone? Why didn’t you tell me!?” he raised his voice in agitation.

“Because I don’t want you treating me any different!” I snap back. I squeeze my eyes shut and ball up my fists. I really don’t like this situation at all.

“Serena, why would I? You know I would never judge you,” his voice calmed significantly as he switched his weight to his other foot, his eyes softening but remaining locked on me. “Now please, tell me.”

Well, what do I have to lose?

Besides my boyfriend.

And maybe my other friends.

And becoming an outcast in society.

And having the FBI tearing down my doors.

Second thought is this such a good idea anymore?

Taking a deep  breath, I just go for it, “I’m dead.”

His expression did not change. I don’t think he understands.

He blinked, “Excuse me? Dead as in…?”

“You know. Dead. Not living. No heartbeat. No life functions. Kicked the bucket. Bit the dust. Dead.” I took an unnecessary deep breath, “I promise you I’m not one of those creepy undead things from the movies or anything. I’m still like most people for the most part! You know that! You hang with me all the time and I don’t do anything that any other puberty stricken teenager does not do!” I closed my eyes. “But I understand if you want nothing to do with me now. Having a dead girlfriend is weird isn’t it?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Wait what? Did he just say–? I look up at him and he’s got the heart-skipping-if-I-had-a-heartbeat look again. “Huh?”

“I said it wouldn’t be my first time.” He laughed wholeheartedly. “For some reason I seem to attract—and be attracted to—undead and supernatural ladies. I thought for sure I finally ended up with a live and normal one when I met you, but I guess I was wrong.”

He took my hands and gave me a quick peck on the lips. “If that’s your secret, I see no problem whatsoever.”

I can’t believe it. I’ve been hiding this for so long, and he doesn’t care? In fact he’d dealt with something like this before? I breathe a sigh of relief that is more to convey a feeling rather than the necessity to breathe. I dart into his arms and bury my face in his shoulder. “You’re the best.”

He returns my show of affection and nuzzles my head.

We begin walking home when a thought popped into my mind. “Andrew,” I catch is attention, “You say you seem to attract dead women; what have you dealt with anyway?”

He put his finger to his chin and looked to the stars, “Well I remember this one girl who was a vampire…”