The Dead Face Girl (pt 11) original fiction by flickagirl

Continuation of The Dead Face Girl, original fiction by flickagirl.  To see previous parts, click on the dead face girl tag.

The Zap

I don’t know if you have ever experienced this, but at our school, a very popular pastime is something called ZAP. It’s just about the stupidest thing I have ever heard. Someone writes a name on the palm of your hand, and you have no idea who the person is. They then write a time on the back of your hand, and if you look at the name before that time, you have to ask the person out.
I have found out that people, especially boys, have a hard time not looking at the name before their time. I have also learned that these boys find it extremely funny to give other boys me.
The first time one of these boys came up to me, staring at his shoes and mumbling something about being ZAPPed and having to ask me out, I slapped him. Poor guy. He ran away like a frightened bird. But after a while, I started saying “No” whenever anyone male walked up to me.
So when I heard someone walk up to me while I was sitting on the swings writing in my journal, I just said, “I know why you’re here, and the answer is no.”

“Oh, thank god.” I heard in a familiar voice.

“Ben!” I said, surprised. “Forget I said that, I thought you were someone else.”

“Oh,” He said, slightly forlornly. “Um, I have to ask you a question.”

“What is it?”

“You know that game, ZAP?”

“Yea, what about it?”

“I got one.”

“Ha!” I said. Woe was the girl who had to go through the embarrassment of turning down Ben. “Who did you get?”

He held out his hand. I flipped it over so I could read his palm. It simply said, “That Dead Face Girl."
I was about to slap him, but when I looked up at his face, I realized that that was exactly what he wanted. Maybe not to be slapped, but he wanted me to turn him down. So naturally, I did exactly the opposite.

“Yes.” I said simply.

Ben just stared at me.

“You have to ask me out on a date, and since I can tell that you wanted me to say no, I’m saying ‘yes’.” I clarified.

“But…” Ben protested.

“No buts about it.” I insisted. “So where are we going?”

Ben took a deep breath. When he had composed himself, he shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll call you.” He walked away.

I cocked my head to the side. He’d notice in 5… 4… 3… 2…

Ben turned around. “I don’t have your phone number, do I?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

Ben buried his face in his hands. “I’m not having a good day…” He mumbled through them.

I took out a random piece of paper and wrote down a number. I gave it to Ben and he unceremoniously stuffed it into his pocket.

“Thanks,” he said, and walked away.