vMayhem At Prescott High - C.M. Stunich Page 0,127

have to eat, you know? I’m not a robot, despite outward appearances.” I finish with the cheese and push it aside, grabbing an apple and very carefully piercing its flesh with the tip of the knife. Sugary juice runs down my fingers, and I resist the urge to lick it off. I’m fucking starving.

“Nobody thinks that,” Cal reassures me, which is annoying as hell considering Bernadette just went on a rant about it, about how I’m human. She’s clearly in love with me which both bothers and excites me at the same time. Why, Bernadette? Why can’t you just leave and find something better? The thing I’ve always feared is coming true, that dark fruit blooming on the tree of my own terror.

I can smell its cloying scent, like the sugar of this apple and the rotten sweetness of death.

There is no doubt in my mind that Ophelia is going to try to kill Bernadette. I shouldn’t have caved and let Victor marry her. I should’ve fought harder against his price, but I was too busy trying to prove that I didn’t care.

In reality, she is all that I care about.

“Nobody thinks that,” I repeat with a sigh, continuing to cut the apple until it lies in neat, perfect little slices. Callum reaches over and steals nearly half of it, plus all of the cheese. I curl my lip at him, but I just grab another piece of fruit and keep going. At least the activity keeps my hands busy and keeps me out of Bernie’s bed.

She’s asleep on the couch, of all places, right now. Either she just needed a break from the constant fucking, or else it was a sweet accident. I’ve already stood above her and admired her perfect face. The spot where Billie cut her might leave a permanent scar, but it’s still too early in the healing process to be sure. Either way, it doesn’t diminish her beauty or the shine of her spirit.

When I said she was incandescent, I meant it.

“Were you really a virgin?” Cal asks, and there it is, that fucking awful word again. I resist the temptation to stab the knife into the countertop. That’s something Victor might do in a pissy mood, and even though I know he’s better at controlling his emotions than I am, I can at least pretend, can’t I?

“Why do you care?” I ask Caol, which, I suppose, is as much an admission of guilt as the word yes. “Why do any of you care? What does it matter?”

Callum puts a piece of cheddar onto a slice of apple and sticks the whole thing in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he turns his blue eyes to the ceiling. I just wait there, jaw clenched, hoping that I can get some clarity here. I’d rather talk about this with Cal than anyone else.

Especially Bernadette.

I don’t know how to explain it to her. I’m not like Aaron, holding the sweet flower of my virginity back for my soul mate. My nose wrinkles, and I turn back to cutting the apple.

“It doesn’t matter in the way you think it does, but Bernie deserves to know. She deserves to know why, too. And I think we’re all pretty curious because it isn’t like you haven’t picked up girls before. Actually, I’ve seen you take girls into locked rooms at parties. What are you doing in there?”

I don’t look at Cal, but I feel that cold, icy anger sweep through me.

Why am I like this?

Is it because my father killed my mother, killed my siblings, and just barely managed not to kill me? A family wipeout, they call it. It isn’t as uncommon as you might think.

Living with the Peters for the past five years has taught me exactly how fucked-up I really am.

“She has access to Google, you know,” Callum says softly, obviously reading the directions of my thoughts based on my face.

“I’m a minor; my name has been withheld.” I stab the apple, creating a jagged slice that doesn’t fit with all the perfect ones lined up on the counter. My nostrils flare with irritation.

“Oscar, you don’t want her to find out some other way. Just tell her where you come from, where you’ve been. That’s all she wants.” Cal spins in a circle on the stool, tapping his bare heels against it as he comes around again. “She doesn’t care that you’re a monster. She likes them, O. She likes dark and scary things.” Callum wiggles his fingers