Diana Rowland - Even White Trash Zombies Get the Blues

His mouth twisted. “This is where you say ‘But I don’t think this is working and we should just be friends,’ right?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” I said, amused as his eyebrows drew together in confusion. “I do think we should go out on dates. I just don’t think we should leap into being boyfriend and girlfriend the way we did. Because, really, we never did date .” I took a deep breath. “I want to see if we have more in common than simply being zombies. And great sex. Because, dude, if that’s the only reason we’re together, then that’s kinda fucked up, and can’t possibly end well.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. He reached and rubbed my shoulders. “I like you, too. A lot.” He looked like he was about to say more, but then apparently changed his mind and simply gave me a rueful smile. “I’d like to date. Get to know you.”

I tipped my head up and gave him a light kiss. “I don’t think I’m the same person I was three months ago. I’d like to get to know me, too.”

He looked a bit lost, so I pulled him into a hug. He gave a little shudder then relaxed against me. Part of me felt awful and sick, but at the same time I knew that this was the right thing. I deserved to be with someone who wanted to be with me, whoever the hell that was.

I gave him a squeeze then released him. “Call me tomorrow?”

“Will do,” he said, smiling again. It was probably fake, but he was putting in a damn good effort.

I kissed him again, sent him on his way, then turned to head back inside. Maybe he and I really would work things out. In fact, I realized that I rather hoped we would. But at least now I knew that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if we didn’t. I was stronger than I’d ever dreamed. And I had plenty of people in my life who had my back, no matter what.

The next morning I headed to the probation and parole office, arriving with plenty of time to spare before my meeting. I sat stiffly on the hard plastic chair in the waiting room, legs crossed and arms folded, as I stared at the cheesy motivational posters on the dingy wall and avoided making any sort of eye contact with the other two people in the room.

I heard footsteps coming down the hall, and I straightened, noting with mild amusement that the others did as well. Officer Garza came around the corner, and the two slumped back again.

He gave me a slight chin lift. “Come on back, Angel.”

I followed him down the hall and into an office that might actually have been spacious if it hadn’t been crammed full of furniture and filing cabinets. He motioned me toward a chair while he took a seat behind his desk, an odd expression lingering on his face.

“Is everything all right?” I asked.

“I think so,” he said, pushing the papers away from him and leaning back. “See, I was going to talk to you today about your GED studies and tell you that as soon as you passed it I was going to put you in for early termination of your probation.”

I stared at him in surprise for several seconds. “Seriously? All I have to do is pass it, and then I’m done?”

He snorted. “Well, I was going to say that. But then something happened this morning that changed those plans.”

Elation shifted to terror. Had someone seen me at the factory? Was I about to be charged with arson or some shit like that?

“I got a phone call from the governor’s office not half an hour ago,” he said. Then a bemused smile came over his face. “You’ve been pardoned.”

“I…Hunh? What?” I blinked. “What the hell?”

He shrugged. “Don’t ask me to explain it. But there’s no mistake. Trust me, I checked. Three times. Full pardon. Record expunged. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Then he leaned forward, expression fierce again. “I don’t know what the hell this is all about, but I swear to god, Angel, if you blow this and get into trouble again, I swear I’ll throttle you.”

I grinned. Then I laughed. Pietro Fucking Ivanov. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m not going to screw this up.”

I was even going to go ahead and take the damn GED. After all, I had a feeling that pretty soon I was going to need all the smarts I could stuff into my brain.