Rexan wasn't listening at all to Mr. Gabe's lecture on molecules.
The classroom was too warm, the air stale and heavy with the smell of markers and the faint tang of sweat.
A single ceiling fan spun lazily overhead, doing nothing to alleviate the suffocating heat.
Mr. Gabe, a man with thinning hair and an unrelenting enthusiasm for chemistry, was scribbling formulas on the whiteboard, his voice droning on like background noise.
Nope. Rexan had completely tuned out.
Her mind was elsewhere, obsessing over the brand-new zombie merchandise, the limited-edition action figure set she'd been saving up for months to buy.
It was dropping in a few hours, and she could already picture the line forming outside the shop.
She knew it would snake around the block by now, filled with other zombie fanatics like herself.
But here she was, stuck in f*cking school.
Damn it.
Something small and hard hit her in the back of the head, and she startled, turning sharply in her seat.
Steve, the acne-ridden wannabe class clown, sat a few rows behind her, grinning like an idiot.
He raised his hand to his mouth and made an obscene motion with his fist, the universal sign for a blowjob.
She narrowed her eyes, her lips curling into a sneer. "Grow up, Steve."
The problem with being a hot dork was that you attracted all kinds of shit.
Rexan was born with an unfortunate combination of features: blonde hair that fell in soft waves around her shoulders, dark chocolate eyes that people described as "dreamy," and freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks like constellations.
She hated them.
People never took her seriously. To most of her classmates, she wasn't Rexan Meadows, the girl who aced science quizzes and devoured horror novels; she was "that girl with the cute lips" or "the nerd with the great ass."
And turning eighteen had only made things worse. Her body had filled out in ways she didn't particularly appreciate.
Her boobs were bigger, her hips rounder, and she now had one of those "godforsaken hourglass figures" she would willingly sell to Riley Baxter, the school's reigning queen bee.
Riley, with her perfect hair, designer clothes, and cruel smirk, loved to remind Rexan of her place.
"Stay out of my way, freak," Riley had once hissed in the hallway, shoving her shoulder. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you."
Yeah, Rexan hated high school.
The bell rang, cutting through the dull hum of the classroom, and she shot out of her seat, grabbing her bag.
The door was her beacon of freedom, and she moved quickly, weaving through the throng of students desperate to escape the confines of Royal High.
But, of course, someone stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
"Hey, Rexan," came the annoyingly familiar voice. "Where are you running off to?"
She rolled her eyes, gripping the strap of her bag tighter. "Go away, Bryan."
Bryan Alec, the school's golden boy and Royal High's self-proclaimed gift to womankind, stood before her with his trademark cocky grin.
His sandy blonde hair was perfectly tousled, and his letterman jacket was slung over one shoulder like he was posing for a sportswear ad.
Rexan hated everything about him. His smug face. His too-white teeth.
The fact that every girl in school, including Riley, practically threw themselves at him despite his reputation as the school manwhore.
Bryan didn't seem to notice her disdain, or maybe he just didn't care.
"You're feisty. I like that," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "You're invited to my party tonight."
She snorted, crossing her arms. "I'd rather burn in hell."
In her head, she imagined a zombie snapping his neck like a twig. It was a satisfying thought.
Sadly, even if zombies existed, they'd probably starve to death trying to find a brain in Bryan's skull.
Bryan smirked, unfazed by her rejection. "Come on, don't be like that. I've got something you'll like."
"I doubt that," she muttered, stepping to the side.
But he shifted, blocking her again. "Seriously. If you come, I'll give you a super-rare collector's item. From the first zombie movie in 1995."
Her heart skipped a beat.
She froze, her mind racing. "You're lying."
"Nope," he said, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "It's authentic. Limited edition. Only five of them exist in the world."
Rexan bit her lip, torn. On one hand, she hated Bryan with every fiber of her being. On the other hand... if he was telling the truth, this could be her only chance to own a piece of zombie history.
Her love for all things undead warred with her pride. She knew she was going to regret this, but the words left her mouth before she could stop them.
"Deal," she said, snatching the paper from his hand.
Bryan's grin widened, and she immediately regretted her decision.