See Me (7 page)

“Wait.” Owen held a hand up as if he were trying to stop traffic. “I want to be clear that I am committed to helping you.”

“Thanks, Owen. That means a lot.”

His palm went higher and his index finger pointed upward. “On one condition.”

My forehead wrinkled. “There’s a condition?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded and then stepped toward me.

****

“This is ridiculous,” I said, as Owen tied my hands behind my back with his dirty shoelaces. I tried not to think of how many times he’d mowed the lawn in those shoes—and all the doggy poo he might’ve stepped in.

His fingers worked with speed around my wrists. “I’m going to help you, but I’m not taking any chances with my personal safety. A significant part of me still thinks we need a minister.”

I rolled my eyes. “If I were a demon, would I be letting you tie my wrists together? Ouch!”

“That should do it.” He bent over and picked up the bouquet of flowers I’d set on the stairs. “Now, where can I find a vase?”

My body could be taken over at any minute and he was worried about the flowers wilting? Owen Jenner was not normal. Which seemed ironic, since he was the only one who was crazy enough to believe all this. I sighed. “There’s a vase in the kitchen cabinet.”

He pointed to his right. “Through here?”

I automatically tried to point left and the shoelace tightened on my wrist, reminding me that I no longer had the use of my hands. “I’m pretty sure you’re cutting off the circulation to my hands. You’re gonna pay the medical bill when they end up amputated.”

“Don’t worry. I watched my dad set a tourniquet in the emergency room. This isn’t in the vicinity of tight enough.” He gestured toward several cupboards. “Here?”

“To the right of the fridge.” I tripped over my backpack, which was still lying on the floor where the zombie had dropped it. Books and papers were scattered across the floor. “I’d pick all this up if, you know, I had the use of my hands.”

“Messiness doesn’t bother me.” He shrugged, then opened a cupboard. “As long as everything’s sanitized, I’m good.”

“Can we get back to helping me with my, uh, situation?” My eyes flipped to the air above me. “The zombie could return at any moment.”

He lifted a vase from the shelf, then stuck it under the kitchen faucet. “Why don’t you tell me everything you know about the demon? Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out—even if you think it’s inconsequential.”

“It’s
not
a demon.” I took a deep breath. “A spirit or something zombied my body. This morning, I was in history class and Mr. Gillespie was giving this really boring lecture on how, back in the day, England wanted money from us even though we didn’t get a say in what’s what—”

“Taxation without representation. Go on.”

“Yeah that.” I watched him arrange the flowers, then set the vase on the kitchen table. “And I started thinking, who cares? I’m only sixteen. It’s not like I can vote and England doesn’t tax us now so whoopty-doo on this taxation representation thingy.”

Owen gave me a blank stare.

I blew my long bangs out of my eyes. “You said to be detailed.”

His eyes widened. “You may continue.”

I leaned back against the dining table, fingers wrapping around the edge to support myself. “So Mr. Gillespie was rambling on and I remembered the first edition
Maisy’s Meow
comic book in my backpack. I bought it at a thrift store after school last week for twenty-five cents.”

“First editions can be worth a lot of money.”

“Really?” I thought of that antique show on TV where people bought old, ugly furniture from a garage sale and it turned out to be worth tons of cash. I shook my head. “No way. I’m not selling. My book’s priceless.”

“Interesting,” Owen said, making me wonder what he found interesting.

I glanced upstairs, trying to focus. “Should we continue this up in my room?”

Owen shrugged. “I’m amenable to that.”

Part of me wanted to ask what happened to respect and the sanctity of my bedroom. But, I wanted to show him that Internet article so I headed for the stairs. “Anyway, I tucked the
Maisy’s Meow
book between the pages of my history book so Mr. Gillespie couldn’t see it. I was deep into the cartoon where Maisy gets a pedicure but the nail tech thought she wanted to be declawed—when I had that feeling you get when someone’s watching you. You know the one I mean?”

To my surprise, Owen nodded as he marched up the stairway beside me. “This feeling you’re referring to is part of a sixth sense that scientists and the medical field seem to be afraid to look at in detail and discuss.”

Anyhow. . . .

“So I got that sixth sense thingy.” Eh, if he could believe my body had been zombied, I should give some credit to his theories too. “I thought maybe Mr. Gillespie was watching me read
Maisy’s Meow
, but when I looked up Mr. Gillespie was still gabbing on about the English. By the time I got to my English class, I knew—just
knew
—that there were spirits or something buzzing around me.”

I strode into my room, sat down fuzzy zebra-striped blanket lying at the foot of my bed, and was about to finish my story when I noticed Owen had stopped in the doorway.

He was studying me intently with his hands in his pockets, then he shook his hair out of his eyes. He had a great tan and his tousled blond hair gave him the appearance of a nerdy bad boy, if such a thing existed. No wonder Brynne was so slatheringly in love with him.

Suddenly a strange heaviness filled the air. My head buzzed a little. Goosebumps popped up along my arms and my chest heated. I tried to keep my focus, but the world started drifting off. I locked gazes with Owen, and tried to make my mouth form words, but instead my jaw just sort of hung half-way open. Fuzziness filled my head.

Owen rocked back on his heels, the right side of his mouth curling upward. “This is why it wasn’t a good idea to come up to your room.”

Wait, what did he mean by that? He didn’t think I wanted to. . . .

Owen strode directly to me, his gaze still firmly fixed to mine, but his eyes had all warm and gooey.

No. No way. Part of my mind was still intact, but my body no longer functioned properly and I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Then Owen bent down, placed his mouth on mine, and I couldn’t even stop him from kissing me.

My entire body heated and the hairs on my neck prickled. I’d been kissed before, but my body had never felt like this before—especially weird since I
didn’t
like him in that way.

Thinking of Brynne and how totally wrong all this was, I tried to shift to push him off, but then I noticed my body was reacting in ways it never had. My arms were tingling and my body felt on fire. I wasn’t
attracted
to him, was I? Hot sparks slapped around me until I realized . . . the feeling wasn’t from enjoying being kissed by Owen.

“Oh, no.” I managed to find some little bit of self-will and ripped away from him so fast my shoulder shoved against his, pushing him to the floor with a loud thump. I heaved myself off the bed—not easy to do with my hands tied behind my back—and crouched down next to him as hot air surrounded me.

“I’m okay.” He rubbed his hip. “I won’t kiss you again if you don’t want—”

“Forget that right now.” My voice squeaked, and I motioned my chin around the room. “It’s
here
, Owen!”

“The demon?”

“Yes.” Hot air circled around me. Maybe it was an evil demon, after all. How was I supposed to know? At least I had some control over my body again. For how long, though, I had no clue. I gulped, tears burning my eyes. “It’s trying to take my body again.”

“Evil spirit, be gone.” Owen stood, bravely I might add, with his legs spread and his arms wide. “We are peace loving people. We won’t hurt you unless we have to.”

“Don’t threaten it, Owen. You might make it angrier.” I stood too, and pulled at my wrists, trying to break his shoelaces off to free my hands. “I can’t believe you tied your disgusting shoelaces around my wrists. I’m totally defenseless.”

How I’d mistaken a zombie attacking my body for being attracted to Owen, I’d never get. At least I didn’t have to feel guilty about my friend’s crush kissing me. It wasn’t my fault my body was being taken over by a zombie.

“Uh, Amy?”

My wrists throbbed from all the pulling, but I yanked even harder. I didn’t want to lose my body again. What if I didn’t get it back this time?

“I said, Amy!” Owen shouted.

Couldn’t he see that I had my own problems here? A zombie attacking me? Being tied up by his shoelaces? “What?”

He groaned. “You know that sixth sense we were talking about earlier?”

I flung my head up, staring at him, wondering why he felt the need to bring this up now. “Yeah?”

He sat back on the bed, his eyes bulging. “I’m having that feeling, too.”

“You can sense it?” I paused, wondering how Owen could sense it when, according to the zombie, I’m the only who had ever noticed its existence. “You have that sixth sense right now?”

“Most definitely.” His eyes bulged and he hugged himself, squeezing tightly. “Now, I can, um, feel some kind of heated suction. It’s spinning around me really fast and . . . ”

He was describing the same feeling I’d experienced in the hallway at school right before I’d been zombied. “Oh, no. Owen!”

His head fell back onto my hot pink bedspread, his neck stretching so far that I could see the thick ropes of his taut muscles.

I wanted to reach for him, but the laces held my arms tight behind me back. “Talk to me. Are you okay?”

His eyes drifted closed, his facial muscles went slack and his body looked different.

Stiff.

Empty.

“It’s still you, right?” I whispered, even though I had the strong feeling he no longer occupied his own body. Which could only mean. . . .

Owen’s eyes popped open. He stared at the ceiling and then blinked. His neck tilted left, then twisted right, then his chin pulled forward and he stared right at me.

I returned his gaze and swallowed, knowing it wasn’t Owen anymore.

He’d been zombied.

Chapter Five

As I stared into Owen’s brown eyes, I had to keep reminding myself this wasn’t really him even though it obviously looked like him. No wonder Brynne hadn’t noticed the zombied Amy hadn’t been me earlier. There really wasn’t a way to tell just by looking at someone.

Super freaky.

My heart pounded in my chest. “Give Owen his body back.”

It blinked. “You can see me?”

“I see Owen, not you.” The brave talk was an act. Even tied behind my back, my hands shook. I was scared out of my mind, but I didn’t want to show weakness. “You don’t belong in there.”

It shot me an annoyed look. “Would you rather I have used
your
body again?”

Not really.

I shook my head. “You can’t steal Owen’s body. He’s a nice guy and doesn’t deserve this.”

“Nobody deserves what’s going on.” The zombie pushed itself up onto its feet—Owen’s feet. He lurched a little, but the lurching wasn’t as bad as when my body had been zombied. Apparently the zombie spirit or whatever it was seemed to be gaining a better sense of balance.

It might have deserved kudos if it hadn’t, you know, commandeered my friend’s body.

“And I’m only borrowing his body,” he—
it
—added. “I don’t have any other options.”

My jaw set. “You can go back to wherever you came from.”

“That’s exactly what I plan to do.” It rubbed the back of its neck—
Owen’s
neck—and sighed. “It’s hard using my muscles to move, instead of my mind.”

“Those aren’t
your
muscles.” I glanced up at my ceiling, wondering where my geeky friend was and if he could hear me. “Stay calm, Owen. I’ll think of something to save you.”

“You don’t have to worry about your boyfriend.” The zombie gestured toward the rumpled comforter on my bed. “He’ll be back soon enough, then you two can get kinky again.”

Kinky?
If I could’ve put my hands on my hips indignantly, I would have. “Excuse me?”

Its gaze darted from the bed to my tied-up wrists, then met my eyes. “I don’t have time for this.”

My cheeks heated and I awkwardly stepped forward. Not easy to walk when you don’t have your arms for balance. Ugh. “For your information, he bound my hands together for his own safety.”

It strode toward the door, but glanced back. “Spare me the details.”

“You totally have the wrong idea, and you shouldn’t have been spying on me anyway.” My fear had turned to annoyance when he’d accused me of being kinky. As if. “Where do you think you’re going?”

The zombie rubbed its belly. “I’m hungry.”

“After all you chowed down earlier?” Although I supposed he’d filled
my
tummy before. At least the calories were going to Owen’s thighs this time.

“I’m hungry, I eat. It’s not complicated,” the zombie said, then disappeared out the door.

I was annoyed at the zombie’s attitude, especially calling me kinky. So lame. What happened to being concerned about my feelings? What had changed since then? Biting my lip, I hurried down the stairs after it, although I couldn’t go all too fast, given that I had to lean against the wall for balance.

It strode into the kitchen, pulled open the refrigerator door, then picked up a milk carton and began guzzling.

Such a pig.

I glared at it. “I don’t know what planet you’re from, but on Earth we use a glass.”

“On Earth?” It laughed, then grabbed a stack of cheese slices. “Where do you think I’m from? Jupiter?”

Like I needed to be mocked by this thing.

I narrowed my eyes. “For your information, the government is sending UFOs into other galaxies. Maybe you hitched a ride back. Or something.”

I couldn’t believe I’d just said that.

“Are you for real?” It peeled the plastic off a cheese slice, folded it several times, and seemed to swallow it without chewing.

“Nice manners,” I scoffed.

“Thanks.” It smiled, shook its head, then burst out laughing. “Other galaxies . . .”