The Girl He Forgot (Book 2)

Chapter 22 - Cream Tart Bra

Carl and I didn't sleep much that night; we divided our time equally between making out and pretending we lived normal lives in a world without zombies. We dozed off when the sky began to lighten and stirred when beams of sunlight shone brightly through the windows.

I squinted and lifted my head off the pillow.

"Hey..." Carl said in a raspy morning voice. It made me smile instantly.

"Hey" I replied, turning my head away from the overbearing sun rays, recoiling into the pillow.

Suddenly the rays disappeared, and I was being engulphed by a sheet. Carl had pulled the duvet over our heads. The morning light shone through the linens and I could see him quite clearly now as he lay beside me.

"Did you sleep ok?" he asked, dreamily, his cheek pressed up against the same pillow as he turned on his side to face me. I realised suddenly that he'd wrapped his bandage back around his lost eye. He must have quickly done it before I'd woken up...

It hurt a little, to feel that he was at all self-conscious... or at least self-conscious around me...

"What little I got..." I replied, deciding not to ruin the moment by asking about the bandage.

Carl smirked at me.

"So, on a scale of one to ten, how blue are your-"

"Carl!" a deep voice bellowed from downstairs.

"What is it, dad?" Carl yelled back. He'd gone rigid and so had I.

Thuds came one after the other growing louder and louder; Rick was coming up the stairs. Carl's eyes flashed white.

"Shit" he hissed, scurrying off the bed.

I guess he does care if his dad finds out...

I decided not to dally; I grabbed my boots and put a finger to my mouth. I slipped into Carl's closet, which thanks to the Saviours, now had plenty of room inside for me to hide.

Carl shut the door behind me, pressing a finger to his lips, an apologetic look his face.

I gave him smile that said 'don't worry, I understand'. The closet latch clicked, the dart board that hung on the back slammed against the wood, just as Rick walked in.

"Carl, I need to talk to you about-"

"Jesus dad, could you knock first?" Carl snapped, just as he spun to face his dad, obviously flustered.

I stayed still in the closet and there was a short silence as I imagined Rick being confused by his son's standoffishness.

"What, am I scarin' off your girlfriend?" Rick said.

I felt my eyes widen and just for a moment I thought we'd been caught.

Then Rick laughed.

He was joking. Of course, he was joking.

Carl didn't laugh.

There was a soft clinking noise as Carl grabbed something off the bedside table.

"No, but you're putting me off" the boy replied to his dad, smoothly, managing not to arouse suspicion.

There was a bang on the door of the closet and I almost let out a small shriek as one of the darts buried itself into the board – or more likely the door as I heard Carl let out a frustrated sigh.

"What did you wanna talk to me about anyway?" Carl asked, sounding impatient.

"We're goin' on a run. Gotta find supplies for the Saviours..." Rick began, not rising to Carl's attitude.