Devils' Day Party: A High School Bully Romance - C.M. Stunich Page 0,77

it is, a continuous cycle of a day that should have only happened once.

“How is …” Luke starts and then shakes her head, as if to clear it. “Sonja found me while you were with Calix last year. But … then after, I went looking for you, and then you called me, and well, I couldn't exactly tell you with your heart broken to pieces.”

My mouth tightens and I look toward the boarded-up window, wishing I could see out and into the thick canopy of the trees. “Karma.” Calix's fingers light on my shoulder as I stare out into the darkness, at the strings of yellow Edison bulbs clinging to the tree limbs. “Come back to bed.”

“I kept looking for the perfect moment to tell you, but Sonja wanted to keep our relationship a secret.” I hear the blankets rustle behind me and keep my gaze straight ahead, so Luke can slip back into her skirt and panties.

“And you didn't see any problem with that? Fucking a member of the Knight Crew and keeping it a dirty, little secret? She's been using you, Luke.”

“No,” Luke says firmly as I turn back to look her, her blue hair mussed up, her lips slightly swollen from Sonja's kisses. My nose wrinkles, but how can I be so judgmental when—according to my own timeline—I slept with Sonja's male clone just yesterday. My chest clenches with pain as I remember curling up against Raz's side, of murmuring sleepily until the wee hours of the morning. “She's just … damaged. They all are, you know? The Knight Crew.”

“That excuses the way they treat people then?” I ask, feeling a guilty pit in my stomach when I think of Pearl and the things I said to her. She killed herself because of you, Karma. At some point, I'm going to have to find her. If she's that close to the edge, then I can't just keep living day after day without doing something.

What was it that Luke said? That I needed to master my environment? Master my own timeline …

“It doesn't excuse anything.” Luke is standing up now, at the edge of the bed. As I turn to glance at her, she redirects her gaze to the floor, shame apparent in her expression. “People are imperfect; they make mistakes. Some people just make more than others. I'm sorry that I lied to you, Karma, or that the Knight Crew thought bringing you here was awful enough to count as a Devils' Day prank.”

On a different day, in a different timeline, I'd be furious with Luke. I'd yell. I'd scream. I'd say things that I regretted.

Instead, I squeeze my skirt in my fist and close my eyes, searching to control my temper, to bring my emotions in check.

“Are you bleeding?” Luke blurts suddenly, stumbling in her haste to get around the bed and kneel in front of me. She reaches out, as if to brush my hair back from the dried blood on my forehead, but stops at the last second. “Did they hurt you?” Her voice hardens to a steel-edged blade, and I know that if the Knight Crew really had escalated to physical violence, Luke would lose her shit.

“I crashed my car into Calix's,” I say, the line as familiar to me as any other in this cosmic comedy of errors that makes up my life. My lips twitch into a small smile as Luke's brown eyes widen and she struggles to choke back a sound a surprise. “I was driving by the Gas and Go, and I saw him out the window, filling up that stupid Aston Martin …” My words trail off as I remember the look on Calix's face, drawn and tired, loneliness etched into the shape of his mouth, barely repressed rage glinting in his dark eyes. “He looked so sad and lonely, Luke. He doesn't get to look sad and lonely. He's handsome, rich, he has friends, he rules the school …” My eyes sting as I suck in a sharp breath. And all this time, I was operating under some bullshit lie I told myself to survive. Calix really did play me last year, didn't he?

“Karma,” Luke says, starting to put her hand on my knee and withdrawing it. “Uh, I would touch you, but …”

A laugh escapes me as I recall the scene I just walked in on.

“Please don't, until you wash your hands.” We look at each other, and then we both just start laughing, and we