Devils' Day Party: A High School Bully Romance - C.M. Stunich Page 0,6

it’s also a black tourmaline bracelet. Laughter escapes in a rush as she turns back to look at me, and I hold up my matching bracelet.

“We’re so similar it’s scary.”

“Basically the same person,” Luke agrees, taking the bracelet from my hand and cocking a brow. “May I?” She slides the bracelet onto my arm as we grin at each other. “I sent one to April, too. You?”

“Yep. It all works out though, right? One bracelet to protect her from negative energy tonight, and one to protect the baby.” I wink and pop open the top on the second box, frowning as I peer down at the butterfly inside. It’s black, with orange-tipped wings, and it’s most definitely not on the list of invasive species that the Devils’ Day Committee uses to make their jewelry and shadow boxes with.

“This is a Diana fritillary,” I tell Luke, holding out the box for her inspection. “Not only is it the state butterfly of Arkansas, but it’s endangered.” My teeth clench as I look down at the necklace, the butterfly encased in what looks like amber, its wings speckled with red that could very well be blood. Or paint. It’s probably paint, right? “Who would send me this?” I check the box for a note, but there’s nothing. Pushing up from my chair, I head out the door on the heels of the committee.

“Karma!” Luke calls out, but it’s too late. The door closes behind me, and I grab the shoulder of the girl with the leaf mask. She turns back to look at me with a raised brow. Pretty sure she’s the heiress of some big hotel chain or something. For the life of me, I can’t remember her name. Unsurprising, considering nobody in this school has ever bothered to remember mine.

“Who sent this?” I ask, showing her the butterfly necklace, still carefully tucked inside the red jewelry box. The girl frowns down at it before lifting ice-blue eyes to mine. “And how did this end up in the committee’s Devils’ Day sale? Culling invasive species to make jewelry, I get, but this is fucked.”

“We never sold any of these,” the girl says, taking the box from me and then lifting her eyes accusingly to mine. “Mr. Aldrich would never allow it.” She tries to hand the box back, but for some reason, I’m hesitant to take it. The butterfly’s still form stares accusingly up at both of us. Mr. Aldrich is one of the biology teachers on campus, with doctorates in entomology and environmental science. He most definitely wouldn’t have allowed his students to kill and display an endangered species. “Is this a Devils’ Day trick? Because I’m not in the mood.”

The girl drops the box when I refuse to take it, and the amber casing around the butterfly shatters to pieces as she tosses raven hair over her shoulder. I drop to my knees, scrambling to pick it up as I stare at the torn wings in horror. The damn thing was already dead; the least we could’ve done was respect it.

“I’ll let Mr. Aldrich know about this,” she says with a smirk, kicking the rest of the pieces aside with her shiny shoe and then leaning down to get in my face. “And don’t think he won’t roast you for this. It might just be a stupid bug, but he takes this shit seriously. Here’s to hoping you get expelled, Trailer Park.” The girl moves down the hall, the long vines on her mask trailing behind her.

I clench my jaw as Luke steps out and bends down to help me clean up, my own hands shaking with rage. I shouldn’t be surprised at this sort of behavior. After all, I’ve lived with it for three years now. You’re almost done with this shitty school, I tell myself as Luke and I gather the pieces together and tuck them back in the box. The necklace is ruined, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. I don’t even know who sent it to me.

“The Knight Crew?” Luke suggests, before I can even bring it up, lifting my gray eyes to hers. “That’d be just like them, to find an endangered animal to kill for fun. They probably kick puppies on the weekend, just for the laughs.”

“If it was the Knight Crew, they’d send a note,” I say confidently, tucking the box into my back pocket. “They like their cruelty to be acknowledged. It’s always better with an audience.” Except for that one time,