Ross wasn't in school on Friday. "The doctor said it was a dog bite," Wilson told Zane during homeroom. "They had to give him rabies shots though, and they're keeping him for observation."

"So, what happened last night?" Zane asked.

"We heard some scratching on a door. I guess it was a closet or something. Ross opened it and this thing jumped out. It was so dark and everything, I saw a blur. But it didn't sound like a normal animal, you know? Anyway, then Ross was screaming and there was blood and we just panicked I guess."

Wilson looked down at his desk.

Zane felt bad. He pushed on Wilson's shoulder. "Hey, man, it was creepy in that house, with all the blood stains everywhere. It's crazy that a dog got shut up in a closet. That would have freaked anyone out. I didn't even hear any barking or anything."

"You kept your cool, though."

"I wasn't expecting there to be zombies."

"Really? Even after I told you about the hospital? We gotta check it out. I went down there and saw the guard myself last night. Mason too. I was freaked to leave Ross there all night."

"Wils, I'm pretty sure the government has this all under control."

"Okay, dude, but we're going there tonight. Infiltration. You in?"

"I can't. Harmony's coming over tonight. I'm cooking her dinner."

Wilson shook his head. "I cannot believe you are still hung up on that girl."

"I can't believe you're going to try to sneak past a military guard to a quarantined area of a hospital."

"Hey, it was your idea," Wilson said.

"I meant that it was the only place you were going to find any evidence. What were we supposed to find at that house? You went upstairs, and Tamiko said the police reports listed all the bodies found on the first floor." Zane paused. "Although for something that was supposed to be an outbreak of skin lesions, that house looked like there had been a blood bath."

"Tamiko," Wilson said darkly. "I can't believe you showed up with her. Does our friendship mean nothing to you?"

"She's cool. We went to Sonic after our little adventure last night. I don't know why you hate her so much."

"Dude! I told you about band, right?"

"That is not enough to hate someone for."

"Fine. I guess I didn't tell you me and her had a thing?"

"A thing? What kind of thing? A romantic thing?"

"I don't wanna talk about it. But if you're hot for her, I'll just tell you one thing: be careful."

Zane give Wilson a look. "Are there any girls at this school you think are good enough for me to date?"

"What do you mean? There's plenty."

"And I have yet to encounter one that gets your nod of approval."

"So? Just pick someone else. A nice girl. How about Kendra McDonald? She's a nice girl."

Zane looked over at the girl in question. She was tall and thin, with long brown hair blown out straight. He sighed. "She's all right, I guess."

"I'll let her know you're interested."

"I'm not! Come on. I like Harmony. She's coming over tonight and it's going to be perfect. Just wait."

"Look man, no doubt if there's a guy in this school who can turn a girl like that around, it's you. But what if you put in all that work and the finished result isn't worth it?"

"It will be. I just know it."

"Haven't you ever heard that saying about how you shouldn't change for love? About how you can't change someone if they don't want to change?"

In fact Zane had heard this. His mother often gave Zane this little speech. Like freshman year, when Zane's girlfriend Jaime had gotten in trouble for some Facebook photos where she was drinking. "She's not like that, Mom," Zane had tried to explain, and then Mrs. Gibson had talked about how sometimes people change and grow apart, and how you can't expect someone to change just to stay in a relationship.

Or the time Zane had bleached his hair blond because his girlfriend Ada had told him she thought blond guys were sexy. "Honey, if she doesn't like you the way you are, she's not good enough for you," Mrs. Gibson had said.

Even earlier this week, when Zane had cut his hair, he knew what his mother had been thinking. Zane's trying to change for another girl. But this was different.

After school Zane went down to Whole Foods and got everything he would need to make dinner, then headed home and took over the kitchen.

"Is this for that cute little Oriental girl who came by last night?" Mr. Gibson said, coming downstairs in a spiffy suit and smelling of cologne. "She was a real firecracker."

"Dad, no one says Oriental anymore. It's racist."

"It's nice to see you dating someone with a few brain cells to rub together."

"No, Dad, that was Tamiko. Harmony is the one coming over tonight."

Mrs. Gibson entered the kitchen and leaned over the bean sprout salad Zane was putting together. "Harmony? That's a pretty name."

"And are we ever going to meet this girl?"

"I don't know. I told her to come at six-thirty. If she's early you might get to meet her."

"Our reservations are at six," Mrs. Gibson said. "We'd better get going."

"Okay, hon. Well, son, you know everything I'm going say. I've already given you The Talk."

Zane looked at his dad, who winked. Mr. Gibson had never given Zane The Talk, but Mrs. Gibson wouldn't stop nagging until he said he'd done it. The Talk Zane had gotten was, "Son, you've got more common sense than I could have ever hoped to have when I was your age. You just use your head and you'll be fine."

This was why his parents trusted him to invite a girl over with no chaperone. He was a slow mover in relationships and was completely respectful of his girlfriends, who often got frustrated with him.

After his parents left, Zane fired up the grill in the backyard and put on the steaks, then set the table with several candles and a vase full of roses. He scattered some petals over the table. A bottle of sparkling cranberry juice completed the ambiance. He just hoped Harmony would think it was cheesy not to have real wine.

The doorbell rang.

Harmony was dressed in a tight black boat neck dress that showed off her long legs. The strappy sandals on her feet helped too. She gave him a faint smile. "Hi," she said.

"Hi." He couldn't stop smiling at her. "Come on in."

"Thanks."

So far so good. "Do you want something to drink?" he asked, indicating the sparkling juice.

"Sure." If she thought it was cheesy, her face did not give the emotion away. He poured two glasses and handed one to her.

"To dinner with a beautiful girl," he said, clinking the rim of his glass with hers.

She looked at him. The faint smile she'd had before had faded away. He couldn't read her expression, but something in her eyes made him feel sad.

He took a sip, then set his glass down. "The steak should be about ready. Give me one second." He started to leave, then turned back and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. The sad look in her eye seemed to lift a little, and he smiled before ducking out onto the patio.

Once they were settled in at the table, Zane suddenly realized he had forgotten about music. "Hold on," he said, and raced upstairs for his iPod, which he plugged into the radio on the living room. Soon the soft strains of Marvin Gaye hummed through the house.

"That's better," he said.

Harmony was already digging into her steak with the same ferocity he'd witnessed last week at La Plata. "It's nice to see a girl who can eat," he said. "Most girls I've dated were paranoid about eating too much in front of me. Like if they ate a full meal they'd turn into a blob of fat."

No reaction. Here we go again, Zane thought, and then started babbling. "I mean, if you eat a diet of vegetables and protein, you're not going to gain a ton of weight. It's the carbs. I went gluten-free last year and it's made a huge difference in my muscle gain."

"Shut up," Harmony said.

Zane had no other choice. He felt like she'd slapped him in the face.

He waited a moment, since she seemed like she was about to say something else, but when she didn't, he stared down at his plate. Suddenly that bean sprout salad didn't look so good. He pushed the food around.

What had he been thinking? He should have listened to everyone else. Wilson, Tamiko, and basically the entire football team – even Owen, who wasn't even in high school yet – they'd all warned him. Harmony was bad news. Why couldn't he just let it go? He liked a good challenge, but sooner or later he was going to have to learn that he couldn't change her.

"Thank you," Harmony said.

His head jerked up. She was staring off behind him. Thank you? First she tells him to shut up, then she thanks him? He felt heat begin to rise to his face – not in embarrassment now, but in anger. Her next words completely changed the rant that was about to roll off his tongue.

"No one else gives me a chance."

Oh. Zane revised his thinking. She wasn't thanking him for shutting up, or she was, but only because he shut up and allowed her the chance to talk. Maybe this was her problem: she was very careful about what she said. And most people didn't give her an opportunity.

Finally, she looked at him. "I wasn't always like this. People don't understand... why. I'm like this. Why I'm, like, this... way."

Her brow furrowed.

Good god. Did she have brain damage from doing drugs?

"Something terrible happened to me. Four summers ago."

Zane waited for the tale of an accidental overdose and weeks spent in rehab.

"I don't want to be this way." She blinked at him. "But I'm so hungry all the time."

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Detour into eating disorder? Maybe he needed to derail this train.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching across the table and placing his hand over hers. "I like you just the way you are."

He decided dinner was pretty much over. Harmony had already devoured her steak, anyway. He stood up. "Come on. We can relax and watch a movie."

His phone rang just as the previews were starting. "I'll be right back," he told Harmony, and left her on the couch to grab his phone, which he'd left on the counter.

Zane sighed when he saw the caller ID. "Wilson? What do you need?"

"Dude, you need to –" the sound cut out for a second, and Zane struggled to understand his friend's words. "Hospital – we found – ing guards! – Ross is – out – oo have your weap – here?"

"Wilson, you're breaking up," Zane said loudly into the phone.

"In the basement – itting the fan!"

"Call me back when you have better reception," Zane said, and hung up. He turned the phone to vibrate and stuck it in his back pocket.

"Now where were we." He slid onto the couch, much closer to Harmony than he was before, and managed to get his arm around her shoulders at the same time. She slowly turned to look at him.

"The Notebook is one of my favorite movies," Zane said, then decided it would be better if he, in Harmony's words, shut up. He smiled at her, then relaxed back to watch the movie. He would let Nicholas Sparks and Ryan Gosling work their magic, and then Harmony would be ready for some soul gazing eye contact and a light make out session.

Not even two minutes into the movie, Zane's phone vibrated against his butt cheek.

Harmony seemed to be staring intently at the unfolding story, so Zane slid the phone out and glanced at the screen. Wilson again. He hit ignore.

Wilson called again ten minutes later. Then five minutes after that. When the phone buzzed during the infamous kiss in the rain, Zane was livid and ready to throw his phone out the window. Until he saw that the caller was Owen.

"It's my brother," Zane said. "Sorry."

Harmony didn't even look up. Shit, Zane thought. She's totally pissed now.

"Owen? Are you okay?" he asked, pacing the front hallway.

"Are you watching TV right now?"

"I'm watching a movie," Zane said.

"Turn on the news. Just turn on the news."

"Owen, please. Harmony's over here. What's the problem?"

"Just turn on the news!" Owen hung up.

Zane stared at the words "Call Ended" for a long moment before looking back at the living room. "It isn't over," Ryan Gosling told Rachel McAdams on the flat screen. "It still isn't over."

When Zane returned to the couch, he looked at Harmony's profile, her full lips and softly sloping nose. She blinked, then turned her head to face him.

"I'm hungry," she said quietly.

He jumped up. "I can make popcorn. Do you want some popcorn?" He shouldn't have rushed dinner. It was just that she mentioned her eating disorder, and he panicked. So stupid. He headed back to the kitchen. "We've got regular butter and kettle corn. Which do you want?"

"I want you."

Zane stopped in his tracks.

He had totally misread the situation! His heart jumped up into his throat, and he turned around, ready to sweep Harmony up into a passionate embrace.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

He could ignore it... but when it buzzed again his hand moved of its own accord and he pulled the phone out. "Wilson," he growled, and opened it up.

"Dude, stop calling me!" he said loudly.

"Ere head – angerous! – we – lock your door!"

Then several sharp loud noises came through the phone and Zane had to pull it away from his ear.

"Whatever." He hung up and threw his phone onto the chair on his way back to the couch. It buzzed again, but he was determined to ignore it. Wilson was going to pay for this tomorrow. And for the next week.

Right now, however, Zane needed to concentrate on Harmony.

"I want you too," he said, trying to get the conversation back to where she'd left it. He reached up and brushed her hair out of her eyes. She gazed at him with a clear hunger.

Then she attacked.

Zane recoiled reflexively. Suddenly he was on his back on the couch, with Harmony looming over him. She had moved so quickly – it had been pure instinct on his part. He tried to smile up at her. "Hey, now, we've got all night. Let's take it slow."

"Oh," she said. "Most guys don't say that."

"I'm not like most guys."

Her mouth curved up at the corners. "And I'm not like most girls."

Zane didn't want to tell her, but she did seem to be like most of the girls he dated. For some reason they all wanted to rush headlong into sex. But he didn't want to discourage her. After so long, when he could barely get two words out of her, this was a welcome change.

She leaned forward, and he felt her lips on his neck. This was okay. He pulled her hips close to him and breathed in the scent of her hair.

Immediately he wished he hadn't. Underneath her perfume – which he was pretty sure was Chanel No. 5, Harmony sure had good taste – there was a sourness that Zane couldn't quite place.

Then he felt her teeth on his neck.

"Oh, heh," he said, gently pushing her away. "I'm not into that. I don't really want to explain any hickies to my parents tomorrow morning."

She blinked, then her hands ran down his chest to tug at the hem of his t-shirt. "I can leave marks where they won't see."

"No, no, really." He pushed his shirt down and pulled her wrist to place it around his neck. He spoke softly. "You don't need to rush."

The phone buzzed angrily.

"So, uh, what would you say is your favorite body part?" Zane asked.

Harmony appeared momentarily confused. Then she said flatly, "My teeth."

This had not been an answer Zane was expecting. "You do have nice teeth," he said. "They're very straight. And white." He cleared his throat and tried to get back on course. "But I think your eyes are your best feature."

He pulled her face close to his. "I could lose myself in those eyes."

Holding her still, he pressed his lips against hers softly. He brushed his thumb against her cheek. "See how nice slow can be?"

A harsh electronic ring cut through the moment. Harmony lunged forward and Zane jumped too, dumping her onto the floor. "I'm so sorry!" he said, tripping over her as he tried not to fall on top of her. The house phone rarely rang. He didn't even know why his parents had installed a land line. Everyone had cell phones. "I've got to get that."

To make matters worse, the cat streaked in from the hallway, nearly tripping Zane again. He staggered and hit the wall before he righted himself. His mother's cat had been freaked out by the move and had spent the past two weeks huddled under his parents' bed. Mrs. Gibson had been feeding it by hand.

Zane reached the cordless phone by the fourth ring and picked up. "Hello?"

"Honey? Are you okay? You weren't answering your phone."

It was his mother's voice.

"I'm fine, Mom, I was just in the middle of something," Zane said breathlessly. He smacked himself in the face. Of course his mother would have tried to call the one time he ignored his phone.

"Good! Oh—" Her voice stopped suddenly, and he heard a crash in the background. No – there was a crash in the house too. He rounded the kitchen table to peer into the living room.

"Harmony? Are you okay?"

"Zane, are you watching the news? Please tell me you're watching the news!"

"No," Zane said, remembering how Owen had asked him the same thing. "What's happening?" As he spoke, he walked into the living room, now empty, and picked up the remote. The screen switched from "The Notebook" to a commercial for car insurance. Zane clicked through the channels, searching for the news.

"They've issued an emergency warning," his mother continued in his ear.

Finally, he found MSNBC and footage of a burning building filled the screen with the words "BREAKING NEWS" across the top.

"Shit," he breathed.

"Something happened at the hospital, and they're evacuating quadrants of the city. We're supposed to go to –" Another crash. "Oh, god, Phil, look out!" Screams.

"Mom, what's happening?"

But the call cut out and a dial tone buzzed in Zane's ear. "Mom?"

He tried to get to the phone's recent call menu, then threw down the cordless and snatched his iPhone up from the chair and found "Mom" in his contacts. The phone didn't even ring. "This number is temporarily out of service," said a bored electronic female voice. Zane hung up and scrolled up for "Dad." As he waited for the phone to ring, he watched helicopters surrounding the burning building, and a shaky reporter talking about reports of a violent mob. The phone rang once, then repeated the same message, "This number is temporarily out of service."

Who else could he call? His mother had said something had happened at the hospital. Wilson. Wilson's phone hadn't been working right, but he would know what was going on. Zane tapped on Wilson's name with shaky fingers.

As the phone rang, he heard an eerily familiar noise.

He was in the hallway now, halfway between the kitchen and living room, and he turned slowly, suddenly knowing exactly what the situation was. He knew it with complete certainty, and had no idea how he'd managed to blind himself to the facts for so long.

The white walls of the hall were covered in a spray of red, and Harmony was crouched on the floor with blood in her hair.

With her teeth, she ripped a stringy bit from the ball of fur in her hands.

"Mr. Speckles?" Zane asked, his voice high.

Harmony's eyes snapped to him and Zane froze like a deer in the crosshairs.

"Shit."

"Zane! - Ere are – oo?"

But Zane wasn't listening to the voice on phone, which he'd dropped to the floor.

Harmony chewed, keeping her eyes on Zane. Slowly, so slowly, she rose, letting her arms and the dead cat drop.

Mr. Speckles made a splatting noise when what was left of him hit the hardwood floor.

Zane moved backwards as Harmony took a step toward him.

"Harmony, uh, what..."

His mind couldn't keep up. There were zombies. Harmony was a zombie. There was no other explanation. How could this be happening? She was a zombie and she was going to eat him. His arms and legs felt so weak. He hit the front door behind him, felt for the handle, felt the doorknob slip under his sweaty palm.

She swallowed, and said, "I'm so hungry."

"Fuck," Zane said, and that one expletive seemed to invigorate him. He had to get out of here. He turned and threw the door open and ran.