Come hell or highwater, the Devils of High Groves High School will pay.
Chapter 2
I wake up early on the first day of school, sliding out from beneath my covers and stretching my taut muscles. It’s still dark outside, the moon a tiny crescent shape in the velvety black sky.
Jumping to my feet, I make quick work of brushing through my white blonde hair. I debate whether or not I want to place it in a ponytail before deciding to leave it down. Nana has hung my dresses from one of the lowest rafters, and I quickly grab a long-sleeved black number with a sweetheart neckline. A splash of pink lipstick and some blush on my cheeks complete the look. As I gaze at myself in the mirror over the dresser, I can’t help but compare myself to the old me, the younger me.
I’m still the exact same but…different. I barely recognize the girl staring back at me. The only thing that has remained consistent is my amber eyes, burning like the flames of hell flicker within their depths. They were one of the many things that the students of High Groves Middle School bullied me for.
Freak, they said. Ugly. Unnatural.
For the longest time, those words would cut deep, flaying me open until I stood unloved and unwanted amidst a sea of monsters. But now, they ricochet off my skin, off my armor. I’m stronger because their taunts made me this way. You can only truly understand joy once you’ve experienced immeasurable pain.
Steeling myself, I blow a kiss at my reflection before grabbing my backpack off the ground.
Polo moving about the kitchen surprises me when I stop there to grab a quick breakfast to go. The smell of bacon sizzling on the stove assaults my senses first, followed immediately by the enticing, addictive scent of coffee brewing.
“Fuck, yes,” I breathe, gliding towards the pot.
“Cardinal told us you were a coffee addict,” Polo says lightly, scooping eggs and then a few pieces of bacon onto a plate. He slides it across the counter until it rests in front of me. “Gabriel went to pick it up last night.”
“Oh,” I murmur, suddenly feeling awkward. Still, I can’t deny the relief I feel at having the cup of liquid gold in front of me. Fuck, I have an entire arsenal of cheesy nicknames for coffee. Pretty sure I wrote an entire journal of them. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Unlike the rest of the house, the kitchen is modern with granite countertops and top-of-the-line steel appliances. I half wonder if Nana bought all of these supplies when she discovered I would be staying with her. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least, if I’m being honest with myself.
“We wanted to,” Polo says firmly. Silence ensues as I sip from my mug and dig into the fluffy scrambled eggs. Nana is right—Polo cooks like a god.
When the man in question begins to wring his hands, I realize he wants to say more.
“Yeah?” I ask, quirking a silvery white eyebrow.
“I know this is weird for you,” he blurts out, and I gift him with a dry look. He gulps once before stubbornly forging on ahead. Man has balls, I’ll give him that. “We all just want you to feel comfortable. I know it’s not conventional… Okay, listen. We love your nana, and she loves us. It’s weird, I know, and not just because of our age difference. Though, technically, it’s not as much as you believe. We want you to feel comfortable here with us. We want to be a part of your life in any way you’ll allow us to.”
That’s just a whole bunch of nopes. Honestly, I can’t deal with this—them—now. What my nana does is entirely up to her, but I can’t say it’s not fucking weird.
“It’s fine,” I say evenly, when it appears as if Polo is still waiting for a response. “Just…just don’t let me see anything, okay? Like when she answered the door.”
Because yeah, the image of Christian groping my grandma is forever burned into my retinas. I might actually need bleach for that, thank you very much.
Polo has the decency to appear sheepish.
“Sorry. That’ll never happen again. It’s just…Cardinal had just finished a spell…” He trails off again, raking his fingers through his brown hair.
I lift up a hand to stop him from speaking. “Say no more.” Please, for the love of all that’s dark and gloomy, say no fucking more.