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Chapter 3 - Undead Chapter Three

KRISTINA NAOMI YAGAMI

My brows converge, "So you're telling me that's legit?"

"What the fuck? How many times do I have to repeat myself?"

"Calm your tits, bro."

Nicolette impatiently waits on the sideline, her eyebrows in a stitch. "So?" she asks. "I don't know. I can't believe it, too." I shrug. She frowns.

We can't possibly have connected dreams now. That's just too far-fetched.

"Come on, Kristina. It's got to mean something. Why would I have that kind of nightmare when I didn't even tune in to a word you said?" She's on the verge of tears by the time she's done talking. As her best friend, I act my part like everyone expects.

I let her cry it all out.

There's no way in hell I'll ruin my new hoodie with her snot. I firmly believe you should not waste fifty dollars just to comfort a friend.

"What was the weirdest part of your nightmare?"

She thinks for a second, the tears immediately dry up. This happens when your best friend is an actress. Don't be deceived. This also backs my firm belief you shan't waste fifty dollars to comfort her. "Well… I can't say that was the weirdest part. When I woke up, Mom asked me if I had a nightmare about the undead."

"What did you say?" I ask, suddenly intrigued.

"I asked her how she knew."

"And?"

"She told me I binge-watched The Walking Dead since Saturday."

I slap my cheek, inundate.

Seriously? You'll get a nightmare about the undead if you keep watching that!

"Why are you still watching Walking Dead? I thought you hated that show," I tsk. She lazily shrugs. "That show's for amateurs, but I can make an exemption for Chandler Riggs. If 'ya know what I mean."

I slap my cheek yet again.

If there's one thing you should know about her, it's her hard obsession. I don't want to return to the times when Sean O' Pry had an altar in her locker. Back then, prayers didn't even stop her. If Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber's relationship is more of a fallout, then you better watch out for Nicolette Kavanagh's celebrity obsession.

It'll end in chaos, I'm sure of it.

I brush the thought from my mind. Knowing Nicolette, she'll probably outrun the security to reach Chandler Riggs when the Walking Dead cast tours the world. Let's wish they don't come anywhere near here.

"Anyway," I stress with a wary eye on her. "I think we've had enough of Chandler Riggs for a second. Now, where's that gay Korean?"

From the entrance of St. George's Academy, Nicolette and I search for a familiar face in the approaching crowd of students. It takes a few seconds to find a familiar plop of blond hair from the crowd, and when I do, I wave my hands deliberately in the air to get his attention.

"Ojie, you gay bitch! Over here!" I shriek at the top of my lungs.

A few students send me dirty looks, but I only give them the middle finger.

Pussies.

He rolls his eyes when he sees me. I snort. He's probably watching gay porn on the way to school. Typical.

I chuckle at the thought. If Jee Ho ever hears thoughts, I bet he'll have my head.

Nicolette raises her brow at him as soon as he joins us. "Hey Ojie, I thought you hated yellow. Not much of a blond hater now, are ya?" she snidely comments with crossed arms. "But 'ya know, if I was you, I'd have gone for pink. Pink looks better for gays." she adds.

If it was another day, I could almost hear him say "Fuck off, Becky." but today isn't such a case.

When I get a better look at him, I notice he's paler than before, like he's seen a ghost. "Hey Ojie, you okay?" I grab his shoulder. He flinches.

Something's not right. I can sense it.

"You're not okay. What's wrong? Normally, when this white bitch annoys you, you both fight it out." I point out.

"Well, I had a nightmare last night." Jee Ho reasons, "Wow, what a pussy." Nicolette remarks. I punch her arm. "What was it about?" I ask, ignoring Nicolette��s murderous glare. Jee Ho takes a deep breath. "It's one that concerns people from beyond the grave that walks the earth," he whispers. My eyes widen.

No way.

I know it. This has to do something about the apocalypse. There is no way that the three of us would dream the same thing with no explanation. Normally on supernatural shit, I'm one to talk, but now? I have no idea.

Nicolette stares at Jee Ho as if he has two heads. "Oh, my god! I don't want to get eaten by dead people! That'll be so gross and gory!" she dramatically wails. Jee Ho and I ignore her cheerleader behavior.

Before you ask, yes, she's a cheerleader. So am I. Yes, unbelievable. That's what I said to O bāchan when I passed the auditions.

Jee Ho opens his mouth when a loud voice excises him, "Niggas! What y'all doing today?!"

Carlo puts his arm around Jee Ho's shoulder. Nicolette opens her mouth to answer him, but I pinch her forearm in time. She yelps. "What the fuck was that for, Yagami?!" Her nose flares in my direction. I give her a sickly sweet smile. Carlo cannot know anything about this.

This is a secret Nicolette, Jee Ho, and I share. We are the only people who should know this. Not even Liza can be a part of this for her safety. Carlo shoots us a confused glance. "What? Did I say something wrong?" he asks. I glare at him.

"Yes. You're a racist piece of shit. Let me give you a good beating."

I'm sorry Carlo, but you cannot know about this. It's for you.

Don't say the n-word, bro. Respect the black community.