Devils' Day Party: A High School Bully Romance - C.M. Stunich Page 0,193
if he's telling me he loves me.
Either way, it doesn't matter.
Because he does.
And so does Raz. So does Barron.
I know because they told me.
I know because they showed me.
The bell rings, and I take a moment to reach up and fix my tie, straighten my blazer, and adjust a button on my shirt.
“Shall we?” Raz asks, holding out an elbow for me to take. “C'est l'heure d'aller à notre putain de cours de français à la con.” It's time to head to our stupid, fucking French class.
“I'm impressed,” I tell him, and he grins back at me, nice and sharp, as devilish today as he was on September 25th. Just as naughty. Just as full of tricks. “Let's go.”
We head down the hallway, April, Luke, Barron, and Sonja just behind us, Calix just in front.
To them, it's just another day.
For me, it's a tomorrow I never thought I'd see.
And I thank the universe with every single breath I take for giving it to me.
Each moment we have here on this earth is worth being thankful for because it's more than we're owed.
I wave goodbye to Calix and Barron, Luke and April, before Raz, Sonja, and I step into the classroom and into our own version of tomorrow.
Two years later …
The full moon casts a silver glow on the gravel as the boys and I move across the frozen ground together, heading for the stone steps that lead up to my aunt Donna's cottage.
“God, that was weird as fuck,” Raz snorts, lighting up a cigarette and pausing near the retaining wall as he inhales. “No wonder I've never done a ghost tour before.”
I push my mask up and off of my face, giving Raz a raised brow and a look.
“Theodore Rasmus Loveren,” I scold, and he shudders as Barron chuckles and Calix smirks, enjoying his discomfort. Just because they're no longer bullying me, that doesn't mean they're finished being bullies to each other. “Were you afraid?”
“Like hell I was,” he snorts as Barron pushes the hood of his red sweatshirt back. “I just don't believe in ghosts, so really, we just forked over cash for a boring-ass history lesson.” I grin, but Raz can complain as much as he wants; during our tour of the old morgue in the basement of the Crescent Hotel, he grabbed my hand and squeezed. The little pissant was scared, whether he wants to admit it or not.
“I enjoyed it,” Calix says as I look over and meet his eyes, a sharpness arcing through me as I remember our breakfast at the Mud Street Café and our subsequent tryst in Michael's room. I swear, when we were in there today, and I met Calix's eyes, something strange passed between us. That feeling, it can't be faked or manufactured. In his own way, he remembers. “Besides, it's Halloween. Don't be an asshole, Raz.”
Raz narrows his red eyes on Calix as Barron sits down and flips his sketchbook open. I admire that, the way he falls into his work at every available opportunity. I'm learning from his dedication. I mean, that's not the only thing I'm learning from Barron Farrar, but the rest of his lessons are a bit darker, a bit more sensual.
“Seriously, do you believe in that shit, Lix? Ghosts and faeries and crap.”
“He might not, but I do,” I say as I grin and then head up the wide stone steps, using the code to let us in the deck-side door. The boys follow after me, stepping into the dark house as I turn on all the lights, filling the place with warmth.
“You really do?” Barron asks, carrying several reusable grocery bags into the kitchen, filled with the food we picked up at the store yesterday. We're going to need it, considering that we'll be staying here for the next week; the moms’ trailer is not big enough for me and my three boyfriends. I almost choke on laughter at the thought of them staying with Jane and Cathy; it wouldn’t go well for long. “Believe in faeries and ghosts and shit?”
How could I not, after everything that happened to me?
“Sometimes things happen that we can't explain,” I tell him, helping to unload the groceries. Calix and Raz spend the time arguing with each other instead, but that's alright. They have their own issues to work on.
When I start a pot of coffee, Raz finally gives up and moves into the kitchen, pausing near the peninsula and putting his palms on the epoxied brick surface. His eyes widen as I glance over at him, the bag of coffee grounds in my hands. We look at each other and something passes between us, a fragment of memory that'll never truly be lost, not so long as I keep it in my heart.
“I'm never doing a ghost tour again,” he murmurs, but I just laugh as he slips out the door with Barron to light up some joints.
“There was something else I wanted to say to you tonight,” Calix starts, coming into the kitchen to stand beside me. He leans back against the counter, his velvet doublet unbuttoned, his leather pants low-slung enough that there's a bit of a sexy gap between the top of his waistband and the bottom of his shirt. I appreciate the boys wearing their Devils' Day costumes tonight, truly. It felt … important, somehow. I mean, it is Halloween, and we’re home for the first time in months. We’ve been living in New Orleans since graduation, and we don’t get back to Arkansas as much as I’d like. I only wish Luke and April could’ve come with us. Sonja, too, I suppose.
“And that is?” I ask, pouring four mugs full of coffee and turning to look at him, my heart racing frantically inside my chest.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now, actually.” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks up at me. “I didn't have the courage before.”
“But you do now?”
“I do now,” he says, exhaling and lifting his dark gaze to focus on mine. “Karma, what I meant to say was … I want you to marry me.”
My cheeks flush red, and I find that the words have left me, stolen away by the spirits of All Hallows’ Eve. Too bad for them that I've tangled with much deadlier spirits on Devils' Day. These assholes could never compete.
“We're still in college,” I whisper back, because that's the right thing to say. “Plus … Raz and Barron …” But holy god, I want to say yes. I'd probably say yes to all of them, if they asked. So what do I do about that?
“Don't reply to me now,” Calix says, giving me a rare smile, as perfect as the jack-o-lantern outside on the porch. “Think about it.”
“I will,” I tell him, choking back tears as the door opens and the other boys step back in.
We take our coffees outside and sit on the deck, listening to the sounds of owls, the rustling of the deer in the brush, the distant scream of a cougar that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
When we head upstairs, we head up together, shedding clothes. Their hands are worshipful, their attention focused.
I spin around, now in nothing but a bra and panties, and push the door to the master bedroom open.
When I flick the light on, I gasp and clamp both hands over my mouth.
The room … is filled with butterflies.
“Diana fritillary,” I choke out as Raz gives me a huh, what? sort of look. Calix moves into the room, turning in a circle as he stares up at the rafters, covered in black butterflies. Some have orange-tipped wings, others blue. He moves to the window and pushes it open while I reach down and press the switch for the fan.
The movement in the air stirs the butterflies up from their resting places as my gaze slides over to Barron's. He's looking right at me, a smile lighting his lips. We both turn in unison as the swarm beats their wings like a single entity and takes up in a collective cloud, swirling toward the window and out into the night sky.
The moon smiles down on them, the silver light limning their wings, giving them a glorious send-off into an endless sky.
“That was beautiful,” I whisper as a warm hand circles around my own, pulling me toward the bed.
Together, we shed the rest of our clothing, naked bodies intertwined in the most sinful of ways. Wanton. Ribald. Lascivious.
A bacchanalia of devils.
We didn't start off our relationship in an easy or average sort of way, and that's not how we're going to continue it.
That's not how we're going to live today.
There is no blood on my steering wheel, no crashed car, no script to follow.
Just … life.
Unscripted.
Raw.
Real.
Mine.
The boys, and the future.
Because I don't have to choose between those things.