Fashion and Zombies (Cee)

[Fay Green]

Fay pulled on her black shoes and pulled the brown leather bag around her shoulder. She was always a sucker for Starbucks coffee, though she wasn’t sure what was so addicting about it. It had been about six months before she even went there because she thought she liked her coffee better, apparently not. She stepped out in the bright sun and the warm breeze which lifted her green billow shirt. It felt nice. Her shop was closed up on Sundays because she had no one to run the shop while she went out. A day off is just what she needed.

When she got to the mall, other stores began to catch her eye, even though she didn’t go in, she looked at the windows. She loved being in the mall and since she had on flats instead of heels, she intended of doing a little window shopping. She had run out of books to read. She hadn’t had a chance to run to the library, maybe that’s what she should do on Monday on her lunch break. She located Starbucks and waited in line for about five minutes and then finally went up the counter. She ordered her coffee with almost nothing in it. Just a little sugar to fend off that bitter taste of black. She wasn’t much for flavored coffee. As she waited, she thought of her family back home. She had lost her father about ten years ago and the anniversary was coming up. Did she have a friend to go with? To go to her father’s grave and have someone’s shoulder to cry on? Probably not. The lady handed her the coffee and Fay traveled into the book store that had happened to be next door. She was in some desperate need to actually find something to read. She picked up a book called Generation Dead. It looked like a zombie book. She was reading the back when her hot coffee was spilled all over the front of her. She turned to look at the person who had bumped into her.

[Cee Cohen]

“Oops!”

Cee had an affection/abhorrence relationship with bookstores. On the one hand, there was a lot of important information to be found in bookstores, and most of it was a lot more credible than, say, Wikipedia, where he seemed to get most of the facts these days. Unfortunately, bookstores also had a lot of words written around to tell you where to go, and Cee—being horrendously nearsighted—couldn’t often see them. As a result, Cee often found himself wandering around the store and running into things as he desperately tried to tell if the sign said “history” or “romance.” Which shouldn’t have been that similar, but which Cee found himself frequently in that section and would always rush out in embarrassment after getting an eyeful of a man’s naked chest that clearly wasn’t realistic at all.

He’d been in the middle of doing that when he’d knocked into this very nice and very pretty blonde who’d apparently had a very blistering cup of a caffeinated beverage in her hand. It splashed all over her and all over him and Cee stared at them both.

“I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed. “I should have been observing—I hope you didn’t grievously injure yourself! Here, let me get—” He looked around in his typical jerky motion, then held up a finger to get the woman to stay there before darting into the nearby bathroom. He soon returned with a pile of paper towels that was nearly as high as his head.

“Here! This should be of assistance!” he said cheerfully. “I am very sorry. Are you all right? I’m Cee, by the way, Cee Cohen.” He finally spotted the book in her hand and frowned. “Oh, no, you’re not getting that one, are you?"

[Fay Green]

Fay had long learned to keep her temper in check. She was burning and her green blouse was completely ruined. The awkward man had gotten some towels to clean herself off with. She declined his help and dabbed the towels which came away brown and wet on her front side. “It’s alright. You probably didn’t see me,” Fay said laughing a little. She looked at the book in her hand and saw that it had some coffee on it. She had no choice but to buy it, but it did look interesting and she was slightly jealous of the girl’s boots. They were awesome!

“My name is Fay Green. I’m fine, but it seems you have gotten some coffee on yourself.” She pushed back blonde hair and dabbed at the book. The wonderful white pages were stained brown. She had tracked down an employee and explained what had happened. She would gladly buy the book because it was damaged. The employee went off to talk to the manager. “Well, I was only looking at it, but since it’s damaged, I kind of have too. Why? Is there something wrong with it?”

Fay’s blue eyes finally got a look at the guy. He was wearing clothes that were too big for him and they were ratty and torn. She was a fashionista and she hated to see such clothing worn on such a fit frame, or at least she thought he was fit.

[Cee Cohen]

Cee wasn’t really fit. He was thin because he didn’t eat a lot and the rest of the time he was rushing around. He put very little effort into his personal appearance and, as a result, could care less what he was wearing. It helped that he could hardly see it half the time.

“I am fearful that I didn’t,” Cee said with an unhappy smile. “I’m really sorry. I should have been paying more attention. I didn’t mean to spill your drink all over you.” But she was laughing, so he offered a hesitant smile anyways. He leaned over as he saw the coffee on the book. “Let me purchase that for you! I already have a copy, so you could appropriate mine, which is not stained, and I could retain this one for my own use! Because it’s not that there is anything wrong with it, you see, it’s just…” Terribly inaccurate, incredibly romantic (something that Cee didn’t understand at all) and generally disrespectful and ignorant of the true nature of a “zombie” virus. However, staring at the much younger and very pretty woman, Cee realized that this was probably the wrong thing to say. He couldn’t remember Anna liking those books, but her sister had. Perhaps scientific inaccuracy wasn’t important when females wanted to read things.

“It isn’t very correct,” he said instead, weakly. “But if you are looking for an entertaining read, it is very sufficient in that realm.”

[Fay Green]

Fay smiled at the older man. She wasn’t sure if he was flirting or if this was his normal behavior, but she didn’t feel like he was and she didn’t trip over herself so it was all good. “Oh it’s quite alright about the coffee. I have bumped into people once or twice and they were terribly…awful.” She hadn’t really wanted it anyway, she was only drinking it because it was Starbucks and their coffee rules. Fay listened to him offer to buy it. He was a sweet guy, though he could use a serious make over or at least some fashion tips or clothes that fit better. She would’ve never said this out loud, but he seemed like the type to live in his mother’s basement, but this was all first appearance. She could be dead wrong. It just wasn’t what…? She waited for his answer patiently, wondering what he was going to say about the book.

“Correct in what? It’s not supposed to be correct. It’s fiction. There’s nothing correct about a zombie curse or virus. I picked it up because I liked the girl quite honestly, but zombies don’t exist. I know that.” The manager had come back to see the mess on her shirt and on the floor. He talked to her for two minutes about the book. She explained to him that Cee was willing to buy it. The manager gave him a look of relief and hurried off to do whatever job he needed to do. She shook more blonde hair out of her eyes, mentally putting bobby pins for her hair on the list of things she needed when she went shopping. “So could you please explain to me what you mean by incorrect?” Fay gave him a gentle smile, unsure of where to go from there. She hugged the damp book to her chest, thus ruining it further.

[Cee Cohen]

Cee wasn’t flirting. It wasn’t that Cee didn’t know how to flirt. Once upon a time, he’d been somewhat decent at it. Well, maybe not decent, but a little less rock-headedly oblivious. Right now, however, he was not flirting because of multiple reasons. One: Cee didn’t consider himself good for anyone at this time. His experiences with his ex had taught him that. Two: this woman was a lot younger and a lot prettier than he was and probably thought he was nuts. This conspired against him in the whole having a shot thing, so he’d decided not to worry about it. And that was the end of any thoughts down that line.

Which was a shame, because she was very pretty.

“You’re correct that there isn’t a zombie jinx,” he agreed, sounding quite happy about the thing. After all, she’d been the one who had broached the topic, not him. That made it safe, right? He sure hoped that it did. Not that it mattered, because he was likely to keep talking anyways. “But the book itself is incorrect. Being a zombie isn’t technically about being deceased, but about losing mental functions and eventually the body begins to fall apart as well. There are documented cases of it! In Africa it’s christened the ‘nodding disease’ and has been around since the 1980s. There are also other documented cases in America! But this book has the so-described ‘zombies’ as being living functioning beings that are very similar to humans, but would be more like vampires without the desire to drink bodily fluids…” he trailed off and cleared his throat. “But it is a very intriguing read? I’m sorry. I talk too much. You were merely looking for fiction, yes?”

[Fay Green]

Fay wanted nothing but to back away. This guy was clearly a wackjob, a very handsome wackjob, but nonetheless. Her eyes widened a little bit and she calmed herself down. He believed in zombies? He must be one of those guys. They weren’t very rare, but she guessed they had better social skills than Cee did. She brushed back more hair, a little annoyed with herself. She was judging him right off the bat and she knew that was bad. She gave a small sigh and listened to him a little more intently. Clearly, he believed what he was saying or he wouldn’t say it would he?

“I don’t quite understand what you’re saying. You’re basically saying that zombies are real. I’m sure they have documented stuff about things that could be slightly related like you said about the African ‘nodding disease’. But surely, zombies can’t be real? That’s not something the government could cover up exactly. It would be too hard, beside all of that, I have never seen any evidence that zombies were even remotely real expect….people dressing up like zombies and they would do a good job about it,” Fay said, looking down at the book.

Truly a wackjob. She shook her head and started to the front, not really meaning to leave him behind. She wanted to get home and get out of her wet clothes. She stopped at another book and looked at the cover. It was another fantasy meets reality fiction. Zombies, vampires, ect. She turned towards him again, “Are you telling me that everything in this book, zombies, vampires, werewolves, ect are real and they walk among us?”

[Cee Cohen]

“Well, I’m not exactly saying that zombies are a realistic concept,” he pointed out, somewhat aware that this conversation wasn’t really going the way he’d intended, and that the girl was distinctly looking like this wasn’t how she’d pictured it going either. Normally he tried to introduce the zombies very slowly and after more than one meeting. But she HAD asked, right? That had thrown him off. Oh well. Perhaps it was time to back off. “I’m just saying it isn’t improbable as it first appears, and there are documented cases of something similar to the typical ‘zombiesm’ that pop culture has taught us to know and love. But in order to restrain the population from panicking, the government is keeping it quiet, that’s all.”

He hesitated when she started moving, then followed her, because he was obligated to buy her book, after all, even though he suspected she was regretting that offer. He paused as she looked at the book, then cleared his throat.

“No, not at all!” Although he’d had a bad two weeks when he’d sworn until he was blue that vampires did—anyways. “I am simply suggesting that perhaps the idea of zombies isn’t something that should be dismissed, that’s all.” He cleared his throat. “If you are looking for a book recommendation, however, I’d highly recommend the Host.” His sister, if he’d recalled correctly, had loved that, although Clark had hoped that her taste in media wouldn’t be transferred into him.