Buffy's POV
The health centre waiting room smells sanitized, regardless of all the bodies sitting and waiting in the rows of seats. The clicking of a stapler at the desk is louder than all the repressed chatter of the patients, except for my own daughter who doesn't mind her volume at all. She squeezes the arms of her chair as she rocks back and forth, kicking the floor each time.
"Am I gonna die?" she asks.
"No," I answer. "You're not going to die."
"This is how zombie games start," the girl mumbles.
"Actually," Marty responds, "usually the vaccination is how they end."
"What if I'm already infected?" she worries.
"Then you can't get any worse," Marty justifies.
"Will it hurt?"
"It will be a little pinch," I tell her.
"What if I move? Will my arm fall off?"
"Don't move," I reply.
"What if I have to move?"
"You won't have to," I say.
"What if I have to pee?"
"Do you have to pee?" I question.
"No, but what if I have to?"
"Then go now," Marty replies.
Cara shakes her head. "I don't have to pee."
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Jonah's POV
"Well, maybe we should rule out a few names first to make it easier," I suggest.
We both lie on opposite ends of the couch, staring up at the ceiling while contemplating. It's been a while of this, and the only thing we have written in our notebook is KFC, because that's what we want for dinner.
"We will not name them Guy," I start.
Walker nods. "Or Bertha."
"Or Gayle."
"Or anything that's a food."
"Or Richard."
Walker sits up to look at me, asking, "What's wrong with Richard?"
"For some reason their nickname is Dick."
He leans back again, agreeing, "Yeah. No Richard."
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Jayda's POV
Oceana has me seated on my stool facing away from my vanity in my room to keep me from being able to see myself before she's done. She's very insistent on it being a surprise, which at first I was weary about, but now I've settled into a comfortable rhythm as my eyes follow her hand toward the eyeshadow pallet then back up to my eye when I have to close them again and let the sensation of the brush stoking my eyelid replace my vision. Her touch is so gentle that it gives me tingles throughout my spine with each dust of my skin. Sitting on my desk chair, she leans forward enough that the ends of her long hair graze my knees, but I try not to let that tickle.
"This colour looks so good on you," Oceana says.
"I can't see a mirror, which normally gives me anxiety," I respond with a nervous laugh, "so I'm trusting you."
"Well, I promise you can trust me," she says with a smile. "You look great."
She backs up to wipe the brush and change colours, and in that time, I notice the way the waves in her hair intertwine with each other like tree roots that have taken over a forest floor. I can totally see why Andreas likes her. I mean, she's stunning, like seriously, gorgeous. Her face is made of soft yet structured lines that all seem to sparkle, whether that be because of the lighting or just her. And her style is nothing underwhelming. The bell sleeves that start at the elbows of her pink, wrap top dangle down like floating rain the way her hair does, and her pale jeans frame her figure well.
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The Good Hair Family Sitcom
Fanfiction{4 seasons and complete} Tyrus, Ambi, Muffy, and Wonah are adults now, but growing up and having families brings new kinds of challenges. Through the complications of them and their kids, their life-long friendship is the one thing they can always r...
