Scott is quite literally a monster. A psychopath, I think they’re called. Or maybe it’s a sociopath. I can never remember the difference between the two, even with the AP Psychology class I took last year.
I also have the feeling that, if I let him, he’ll become my psycho.
“I…I can’t deal with this right now.” They’re the only words that spring to mind. I can’t even begin to unravel my own emotions, so how the hell am I supposed to deal with theirs? I wonder if this is how it feels to jump off of a plane. To feel your stomach tighten as the ground rushes towards you like a dart approaching a bullseye. And then, there’s the stomach-dropping feeling you get when you pull open your parachute, allowing the currents to drag you aimlessly through the sky.
Even a month ago, I wouldn’t have believed this possible. That Elias, Cassian, Karsyn, and Lucas would stand in front of me, wanting to be…in a relationship? With me? It sounds stupid even to my own ears, and I half wonder if there’s a cameraman hiding behind the corner, ready to jump out and scream, “Gotcha!” That thought stings worse than if I walked straight into a hornet’s nest.
“Peony…” Karsyn takes a step towards me, expression verging on desperation, but I easily sidestep his hands.
“I’m going to go, um, practice,” I mumble.
I’m feeling too much, too soon, too hard. This shouldn’t be allowed. I don’t want my own emotions to smother me. But trying to grapple them back into submission proves to be impossible. I bite my lip to hold my tears back as I shove Karsyn and Lucas aside, easily stepping between their muscular bodies.
How can they want to date me? They barely even know me.
Maybe they’re deluded, stuck in a fantasy where the charming, handsome guys get the poor girl. A Cinderella-type story where they’re the lead characters.
Because in reality? I’m not a catch. I’m not the girl they’ll all orbit around like planets with the sun. I’m just a crazy bitch with a voodoo doll and a slight obsession with the four of them.
Maybe they just want me because of what I am, what I represent.
Maybe they have gotten a taste of my darkness and now want more.
But they’ll come to find out that my darkness is encased in barbed-wire and pointed blades. The moment you touch it, you get stabbed.
There’s no escape.
Chapter 45
I stare intently at the closed violin case, willing it to…do something. Anything besides sit there and taunt me. My fingers itch with the need to touch it, caress it, pluck its strings.
But doing so will feel like surrender, and I’m not quite sure I’m ready for that yet.
Biting down on my lower lip, I turn back to the sheet music and bring the school’s violin back underneath my chin. As I begin to work through a song I wrote for my music composition class, I allow my mind to wander.
The Devils’ words tug at something inside of me. At the desperate little girl yearning for a family of her own and people who love her. Why do they have to do this to me now? When I’m finally beginning to heal? Sooner or later, they’re going to pull the rug right out from underneath my feet.
They want a relationship…
With me?
That concept is comical, and for the hundredth time, I wonder if this is some elaborate prank. Is this a way for them to abate their guilt? Develop a relationship with the freaky witch and then voila! All of your sins will be washed away. Or is it possible that they actually do have feelings for me?
I don’t even realize I’ve stopped playing until the bow clatters against the cold tiles of the practice room. Surprisingly enough, the air outside is warm, though the air conditioning blowing through the vents combats the humidity.
Lunch has long since ended, but I remain hidden in the practice room at the end of the hall. No one ever travels this far, so I doubt I’ll get caught. And if the school calls Nana about my attendance, she’ll cover for me. She owes me that much, at the very least.
The last thing I want to see are any of the Devils and the sub who replaced Mrs. Town for Lit.
Unbidden, my eyes flicker to the brand new violin case again before I chance a glance at the closed practice room door. I even go as far as to poke my head out,