Devils' Day Party: A High School Bully Romance - C.M. Stunich Page 0,80

knack for picking his way through the dark and avoiding thorny plants and the sharp edges of dry twigs. My feet are so small that they fit easily inside his prints.

After a while, the distant glow of the cabin lights fades away, plunging us into inky blackness. Threads of silver moonlight tease the earth in silver stripes, here and there, but their presence only detracts from my night vision, making it even harder to see.

Barron pulls a tiny LED flashlight from his pocket and flicks it on, guiding us down the steep edge of a ravine. He pauses about halfway down, turning and holding a hand out for me. Licking my lower lip, I take it, realizing that it's probably already been fifteen minutes and that Luke might be looking for me.

“Sonja knows where I'm taking you,” Barron replies, his words strange and heavy in the endless darkness. The woods are far from silent, the creek at the bottom of the ravine burbling softly, the sound of frogs and crickets almost deafening. “She can tell Luke.”

“If you knew this was going to take a while, you should've warned me,” I say, placing my hand in his. His fingers are surprisingly warm, his grip tight as he pulls me a tad roughly down the hill, causing me to stumble and fall into his arms. Barron sets me down at the bottom of the ravine and releases me, still sucking on that stupid rock candy sucker. “Why are you always eating?” I ask, because now isn't the time for subtlety or shyness. I only have so much time each day to learn what I can about the people that influence every aspect of my life. Barron is one of those people, whether I like it or not.

“Because it's better than other things I could be doing,” he replies easily, wading through the creek and not caring that it gets the ankles of his pants wet. I'm dressed in my Crescent Prep uniform still, and my skirt is far too short to touch the water, so I follow after him, shivering a bit. It's always a bit nippy during the Devils' Day Party, but it never seems to matter because of the bonfire and the booze.

It's a bit too cold for my liking out here.

But I'm intrigued.

“Like what other things?” I ask as his flashlight beam sweeps the trunks of slash and longleaf pines, interspersed with oaks and maples, an occasional cherry or hawthorn tree dotting the dark landscape. Last year, our biology class took a whole month to study the local landscape. Apparently, I've retained a lot more of that information than I thought.

“Like alcohol,” he says, and I pause, long enough that Barron has to stop and turn, lighting my body up with his flashlight. “I'm an alcoholic, Karma. Or I was. I've just switched one poison out for another.” He sucks on his candy for emphasis, turning his tongue purple as he flicks the flashlight up to point at his chin. “Sugar might kill me eventually, but I don't hurt people when I overdose on it. So for now, this works. Come on.”

Barron drops the flashlight down and turns, leading the way deeper into the woods.

I follow him. What's the worst that could happen? I die and wake up at the gas station again? But as awful as the Knight Crew is, I don't think they're capable of murder. Or rape. Following a boy that bullies me into the woods is not the best idea ever, but I'm feeling bold tonight, almost invincible, thanks to my universal resets.

Hopefully I don't wake up at the Gas and Go, regretting this moment.

Fireflies appear after a while, blinking in strange synchronization, and lighting up the darkness. The presence of their little lights makes me smile.

“Did you know there's a species of fireflies where the females blink their lights to draw in potential suitors, and then eat them?” Barron says absently, turning to look at me over his shoulder. “They remind me of you.”

“Oh, do they?” I ask dryly, feeling irritation prickle my skin. “You're right: I lured Calix in last year, forced him to confess his love to me. How could I have forgotten?”

“I wasn't just talking about Calix.”

Barron pauses at the edge of a limestone formation, shining the light at the narrow V-shaped crevice that leads between the two soaring rock towers. A bit of red-brown glimmers at the edge of the rocks, like someone cut their hand trying to get in