Apocalipstick (Hell in a Handbag Book 1) by Lisa Acerbo (best motivational books for students .TXT) 📕

for the fruit, but that wouldn’t be fair to all the others. Still, begging usually did the trick with the older woman, who wanted everyone to be happy.

When Cat wandered over, Emma screeched. “Rat. A huge rat. Get it away from the food. Get a gun!”

“It’s a cat. Caleb found him last night. We adopted him.”

“We?” An eyebrow arched.

“I decided to adopt him, okay?” The words slipped quickly out of her mouth.

“We wouldn’t be so bad.” The grin on the other woman’s lips was pure smut. “You need someone in your life, and he’s a good choice. So nice and helpful. I’ve seen you checking him out on a couple occasions when you believed no one would notice.”

“I have not!”

“Plus, he has a nice butt.”

“His butt? This is what end-of-the-world discussions have regressed to? We’re trapped in a movie theater in an unknown town, likely surrounded by undead, and you’re talking about Caleb’s ass. Are we serious right now? Do I need to check your temperature? You’re probably running a fever and hallucinating.”

“There are so many body parts exposed on the Streakers, but usually nothing good to look at.” Her smile remained wicked. “But then there’s Caleb. Along with a great butt, he has some fine-looking muscles. Did you see him last week when he was helping George hoist the Ford to fix the tire? Yummy.”

“Wipe that smirk off your face. Please stop. You’re acting crazy and making me uncomfortable. I cannot have this conversation with you.”

“Who else are you planning to have it with?”

“I’m going.” She grabbed a pancake and skedaddled, perching on a windowsill in a lonely corner.

The conversation wouldn’t fade. Images of a certain someone entertained her.

When the group wasn’t planning on staying at a place for long, there was little to do. No need to begin a project that couldn’t be completed. Gear remained unpacked and clothes left unsorted. Laundry went undone. They would all go another day or five wearing the same clothes. The lucky people would have books to read or a pack of cards to play with to squander time. A day on the road included patrolling, rereading the worn copy of Wuthering Heights stored in her duffel, staring at the walls, or reminiscing about the past. A time when she found Heathcliff’s crazy passion romantic. She didn’t quite see it the same way now that Streakers were relentless in their pursuit and the New Racers often reminded her of the anti-hero.

Not in the mood to read, she lay by her stuff on the dirty rug, not bothering to unroll her sleeping bag. Cat nestled on her lap, and she stroked his fur, purr vibrating through the air. Too wired to nap, her mind wandered.

The room smelled of funk with decay evident in every direction. The dirt under her nails was a constant reminder of the conditions. Grimy, she wished for hot water, a loofah, and body scrubs. While everyone tried to stay clean, toweling off with soap and a bucket of water when available. Real baths meant hauling bucket after bucket of water to the stove, heating it, and bringing it to the big tub the group bathed in. Half the time, she’d rather take a quick, cold rinse than exert energy to heat the water.

The group strung a clothesline and curtain around the tub, but otherwise, privacy was minimal. They slept crowded next to each other in sleeping bags, ate in the folding chairs around the fire, and spent most of their days cooped in the abandoned houses or buildings. They knew each other too well, and yet some of the people remained strangers.

She missed washing machines and clothes shopping, but most of all, she missed her friends and family. One more day hanging out at the mall with Brooke and sharing her playlist with Caitlyn would be a blessing. School sounded fun.

“What’s on your mind?” Caleb sat on her still-rolled sleeping bag.

Of course, it’s him. Of all the people who could arrive to talk to me. Is there some kind of weird kismet forcing us together, or is he turning into something dangerous? Why would he be dangerous. He’s been nothing but nice.

Jenna opened her eyes, squinting, and propped herself up. “Nothing important.”

“I doubt that’s the truth, but you don’t have to tell me.”

“Stupid stuff.”

“I’m listening. Go ahead. I want to hear.”

She fiddled with a hole in the sleeve of the oversized men’s flannel shirt she wore.

“I wondered about the popular songs from before the virus. I’m trying to remember them all along with picturing my friends from high school. It’s true we can’t live in the past because it only makes all this worse, but I can’t give it up.” Her shoulders shrugged up. “I’m weird that way.”

“It’s not weird. I remember my family all the time. Instead of brooding about it, you should talk about them. Even better, let’s do something we’d normally do in high school.”

“What?”

“Well, we’re at a movie theater. Let’s pretend to watch a movie.”

“Seriously?”

“Sure. Why not?” Grabbing her hand, he dragged her through a hallway into one of the deserted theaters.

“Tell me what your typical movie date would include?” A mischievous glimmer lit his eyes. “Romantic comedy or an action film? Popcorn or candy?”

“Comedy.” She looked at him soulfully. “I have to choose candy or popcorn?”

Images of buttered popcorn and chocolate-covered raisins made her mouth water. She would happily settle for microwavable popcorn if still available, but it wasn’t. She’d pop the corn herself if they could find any growing.

“I’ll splurge for both. I want to impress you on our first date.”

What was this man saying? Date? Joking for sure. He had to be.

“Front, middle, or back?” she asked while roaming the theater, carefully avoiding the chunks of fallen plaster from the ceilings and toppled the seats.

“What?”

“Where do you normally like to sit? The front, middle, or the back of the theater?”

He squeezed her hand. “That all depends on what I want to do on the date.”

“What do you mean?”

“Am I getting any action?