down on his lower lip. “You’re right. At least, they think you’re right. They’re referring me to a specialist, but yeah. There’s a good chance that I’ve been undiagnosed with dyslexia for all this time.”
“Karsyn…” I lean forward to place my hand over his. “This a good thing.”
His answering smile finally reaches his eyes, making the hazel sparkle in hues of greens, browns, and golds. “Maybe I won’t be as stupid anymore.”
“Hey.” My smile fades instantly as I whack him on the shoulder. Hard. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”
“Ow.” He makes a face at me as he rubs absently where my fist connected. “What was that for?”
“For you acting like a dumbass,” I respond automatically. And then, because I’m still pissed at him, I lean forward and pinch his nipples.
“Ow! Fuck! You crazy witch.” He glares at me as he rubs at his nubs.
“Okay fine.” I cross my arms over my chest stubbornly. “If this is a ‘talk bad about yourself’ type of day, then I’ll go first. Let’s see… Did you see the scars on my arms? They’re hideous, aren’t they?” I absently scratch at the most recent one—the one from Emmett’s abuse. Nana believes it’ll heal with time, but for now, I’ll wear it as a badge of honor. “I really am ugly—”
Karsyn growls and reaches forward, pulling up my shirt and bra until he can pinch my bare nipples. Instead of the squeak of dismay that he made, I moan low in my throat, instantly arching towards him like a cat demanding pets.
He pinches my nipples even harder, pulling up my tits and then watching them bounce.
“You’re right,” he growls. “No talking bad about yourself.”
“Tit for tat,” I say in response, shoving my breasts further into his hands.
“Did someone say tit?” Cassian shouts from somewhere down the hall. A moment later, he slides into the kitchen in only a pair of loose sleep shorts. His eyes drop to where Karsyn’s hands pull and pluck at my breasts, and heat flares. “Oh, fuck yes. I love me some tit for tat.” He pushes down his shorts, his cock springing free.
“No more talking bad about ourselves,” I tell Karsyn firmly. “Deal?”
“Deal,” he agrees.
“Now, how about y’all seal that deal with a kiss,” Cassian suggests, and I chuckle.
I don’t even care that we’re an hour late.
...
The school is already decorated for Halloween. Orange and black streamers hang from the ceiling, and cobwebs decorate the top of each classroom door. Paper bats are placed sporadically throughout the hallway, adding to the aesthetic. It feels strange to be back after a week away. In some ways, life has changed drastically. I’ll never be the same Peony Simone I was before Emmett strapped me to that altar. And in others, it has remained the exact same.
My relationships with my mom and the Devils are two of those changes. Some for the worse; some for the better.
And then there are some things that will never change. My friendship with Mariabella being one of them.
She ambushes me when I’m leaving Orchestra.
Felicia, who happens to be standing next to me, raises an eyebrow as the blonde bombshell pulls me into her arms, all but smothering me against her breasts as she rocks us back and forth.
“Karsyn told me you were sick! I’ve been so worried! How are you feeling? Are you contagious? Fuck, I shouldn’t be touching you if you’re contagious, right?” Mariabella pulls away from me to give me an assessing once-over. “You don’t look too shitty,” she concludes with a decisive head nod.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Peony,” Felicia says uneasily. Ever since our last conversation, we fell into a truce of sorts. We’ll smile cordially at each other in the hallways, and once in a while, we’ll even talk.
But as she walks away, hips swaying, it’s not me she stares at.
It’s Mariabella.
Felicia’s eyes drop to my best friend’s breasts before snapping back up, her eyes meeting mine. When I raise an eyebrow at her, she runs away from me in panic.
And that’s when I understand.
She was never truly jealous about Mr. Tucker’s favoritism towards me. She was jealous of my friendship with Mariabella. It’s obvious from the wistful, longing look the violist just threw at Mari that she’s halfway in love with her.
“Peony, answer me!” Mariabella demands, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“I’m sorry. What?” I reply dazedly, and Mari looks horrified.
“You must have a fever. I should call the nurse. Are you confused? How many fingers am I holding up?”