Nightfall (Devil's Night #4) - Penelope Douglas Page 0,56

jumped up, and dunked it, the buzzer blaring through the auditorium as it fell through.

I smiled, catching sight of his grin.

Everyone was a basketball fan now.

Cheers filled the room, and I glanced at the scoreboard.

59-65, Thunder Bay.

A close call.

The coaches and players on the bench swarmed the floor, and I lifted my flute as everyone else raised their instruments. We belted out the school song, all the attendees on our side singing along.

I watched Will, smiling as he hung onto his friends as the auditorium echoed with noise, chatter, and music, celebrating the win.

Not that I cared. I barely ever paid attention, only knowing it was my moment when the others around me stood up or readied their instruments.

Will pulled off his shirt, sweat glistening on his back and darkening his chocolate hair as he swung the shirt over his shoulder and nodded to whatever some guy from the opposing team was saying to him. I let my eyes trail down his spine.

I paid attention to the game tonight, though. He was good.

And he was fun to watch.

I followed the rest of the band off the bleachers as everyone started to clear the gym, and we made our way into a spare room to put our instruments away.

But then some girl yelled, “Emmy, catch!”, and I spun around just as a cup of something ice-cold crashed into my chest.

I sucked in a breath as cola spilled down my navy and white uniform, seeping through my pants, down my legs, and coating my flute.

I shot my eyes up. Are you kidding me?

Maisie Vos hung over the railing of the bleachers, feigning a look of surprise before breaking into a laugh.

“I thought you were the trash!” she explained, jogging down the bleachers and rounding them to approach me. “I mean, you clear our trash at school, so I thought you’d help me out here. That’s what I meant. Sorry.”

Air poured in and out of my lungs, but I still couldn’t catch my breath. She did that on purpose.

Elle stopped at my side, gaping, while others tiptoed around us, laughing under their breaths. A couple of guys followed Maisie, all seniors at my school, and I wanted to spew every dirty word in the book at them and their stupid faces.

But I just swallowed it down, because if not, then they’d win. They’d know that they mattered.

This was just my weekly reminder that I wasn’t one of them.

“What’s going on?” Will said, coming through the crowd with his shirt still hanging over his shoulder.

Maisie bit back her grin, while the two guys she was with made no effort to hide their amusement.

Will looked me up and down as the soda dripped off my clothes and flute, and then he turned his narrowed eyes on the two guys.

“Cover me,” he gritted out.

They stopped laughing, and I watched as Michael, Damon, and Kai took up position, surrounding Will as he stepped up to Hardy Reed and Silas Betchel.

The two boys straightened, looking suddenly uncomfortable, and no one said anything as the Horsemen shielded Will’s body from our view.

What…?

I looked around Michael to try see what was happening, but all I could catch was Will staring into Silas’s and Hardy’s eyes, doing something with his hands, but I couldn’t see what.

Then, Will froze, blinked once, and I heard it. The steady stream, almost like something was being ripped in a slow, constant line.

A wicked smile spread across Damon’s lips as Silas squeezed his eyes shut, and Hardy’s chest moved up and down faster as he turned his head away and cursed under his breath, “Son of a bitch.”

But whatever Will was doing, they stood there and took it.

After a moment, Will shifted again, never breaking eye contact as the Horsemen backed away and Silas and Hardy came into full view.

The whole place erupted in hoots and laughter.

My eyes fell, seeing the streams of piss wetting their jeans all the way down to their shoes, and Maisie dropped her eyes, heat rising to her cheeks as everyone made fun of her boyfriend standing there in a mess.

I clenched my teeth. They weren’t fucking laughing now.

Will bent down and swiped the cup off the floor and tossed it in the trash, but before he could meet my eyes, I spun around to leave.

The muscles in my throat ached as I struggled to keep back the tears.

But someone shouted behind me again, “Emmy, here.”

I tensed, but then a cheerleader rushed up and dug inside her backpack, taking out some