A Demon Made Me Do It
Page 7
I know I’m setting myself up for a dangerous disappointment. I know nothing can ever happen between Kieron and me, just as I know he’s only talking to me so I can help him with his studies. Guys like him go for sexy girls like Drusilla, or gentle southern sweethearts like Samantha Morgan. He’s new, so he hasn’t figured out how the social system works yet. But he will soon enough, and then he’ll want nothing to do with me. I’m sure of it.
The closer I get to campus, the faster my heart pounds. Once there, I scan the parking lot for his truck but don’t see it. I linger by the front entrance and casually look through my backpack. Maybe when he arrives, he’ll see me here and come talk to me again. Maybe he’ll want to walk to English class together. One can hope.
Two minutes later I zip up my bag, disgusted with myself. Why am I going all stalker on some new guy? Pathetic much? I head down the crowded breezeway and spot Corinne waiting by my locker.
“What’s wrong? You look awful,” I say when I reach her.
“I didn’t get much sleep last night. Mom’s got a new boyfriend, Bill, and they were partying all night long. He thinks he’s a guitar player.” She makes a face like she’s trying to keep from crying.
I frown, knowing Corrine’s troubles at home are far worse than she lets on. A few years ago when I was telling her how I hated coming to school every day, she’d confessed how much she looks forward to the hours here away from her abusive home life. “I’m sorry, that totally sucks,” I say, closing my locker.
We’re halfway to class when she stops and turns to me.
“Um, Liora, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner on Friday…it’s my birthday and my mom promised to be sober and make something nice.” Her plump face is bright red and she shifts uncomfortably on her feet.
Damn. Oh, Corinne, please don’t do this.
She’s practically the only person who’s been my friend since I became fully human. At first, I thought my life after the “split” would be just like it was before, only with no powers or cognizant awareness of anything that happens at night. But as I got older and entered high-school, people started asking more questions like: “What happened to your parents?” “How do you take care of your blind grandmother all by yourself?” “How do you guys get your money?” And of course, my favorite, “Why can’t you ever hang out at night?”
The questions were exhausting, almost as tiresome as the continual stream of lies and excuses I had to use to get out of doing things normal girls my age enjoy and take for granted… going to slumber parties or out on dates, attending school football games, studying with friends at night—or just hanging out. Even eating dinner with a friend for her birthday. Things I wanted to do.
The more I had to say ‘no’ to friendly invitations, the fewer and further between those invitations got, until they dwindled to nothing. The people I’d been forced to shun now wanted nothing to do with me.
Now most people just think I’m some sort of snobby, reclusive freak. But it’s better this way. Corrine has always respected my boundaries and never judged me. I really hope this isn’t changing.
“Um…I don’t think I can. My grandma might need me. It’s hard for me to leave her alone, her being totally blind and all…” I stammer.
“Right, of course. Forget I mentioned it,” she says quickly, biting her lip.
Now I feel horrible. Corrine is really nice, but a lot of the other kids pick on her because she’s overweight and wears shoddy clothes. I’m one of the few people at school who will even talk to her. And now I just hurt her feelings.
“Maybe we can do something else instead…” I say, cautiously choosing my words. “Maybe Saturday day we can…I dunno…go down to the lake and bring lunch or something. Or go into town and hit up a matinee or something…whatever you want, as long as it’s during the day.”
Her face brightens. “You mean it? You’d actually want to hang out?”
I smile. “Sure…as long as it’s during the day and I’m home before dark. I can’t leave my grandma alone at night.”
She nods enthusiastically, her stringy blonde hair flopping in her face. “I understand, totally. Daytime. No prob…we’ll think of something fun to do.” She’s so happy, I feel even more horrible for rejecting her invitation in the first place. I suspect she was more crushed by my initial reaction than she let on.
“So where do you think Kieron is? I don’t see him anywhere,” Corinne says as we continue down the hall to English class. I ignore the looks of disdain from Drusilla and her friends as they pass by. All dressed in soft pastels and perfectly coiffed pony tails with one strand wrapped to hide the elastic, they glance at me in my black t-shirt, jeans and combat boots as if I’m a cockroach in their spinach salad.
“Mmm, I dunno,” I say as casually as I can. Truth is, I haven’t stopped looking for a glimpse of him either, but I don’t want to mention this to Corrine. She’d understood when I explained yesterday how he was only talking to me to ask if I could help him catch up with his studies. But I know she’s crushing on him hard, and I don’t want any further tensions between us.
The final bell rings. As we enter the classroom, I realize I’ve been holding my breath. The air comes out in a whoosh. Wordlessly, and with my heart in my stomach, I head to my usual spot in the back.
The seat beside mine remains empty.
There have been many strange events in my life, but nothing as thoroughly bizarre as the utterly irrational and borderline insane feelings I experience sitting through class without Kieron there beside me.
Part of me wants to cry. The other part is angry ‘cause I’m being such a basket case. My crushing disappointment that he’s not here is so completely ludicrous—what the hell is wrong with me?
I suppose in a twisted way this all makes sense. It was only a matter of time before I went officially crazy; I’m just surprised it hadn’t happened before now. Maybe I should go talk to the school counselor. Maybe I should go into her little office with the tacky 80’s décor, have a seat on her cracked vinyl couch, and tell her that being a demi-demon who stays up all night drinking, tormenting humans, killing other demons for kicks, and crushing on an incubus-slash-Hound of Hell is really starting to take a toll on my emotional well-being. See if she has any helpful suggestions for me.
I sigh, much louder than I mean to, and the girl in front of me giggles. Mr. Sodenberg shoots me a warning glare but keeps reading. Grateful for the pass, I focus on my book and vow to make it through the day, one excruciating minute at a time. How stupid I was to think some random new cute guy would change anything in my life. Nothing has changed. In fact, his being here only makes things worse. Makes me more aware of what I’m missing, what I can never have.
That there truly is no place for me in this world.
A few years ago, Tatiana confided that she believes I’ll always remain human. So I had to learn to be like a human, assimilate, and really become one. Prepare for my future life as a regular human. But really, what hope for a normal life could I ever hope to have? Most girls my age will go to college or get jobs, find husbands and raise families. Sure, I guess I can get a job, but there’s no way I’m suffering through more school. And forget ever falling in love and getting married. How could a human male ever understand? And I loathe other demions, even more than they despise me. I’m a freak of their kind, nothing but a pathetic “Sapie” girl. Having kids is out of the question, too. No way will I be responsible for bringing any more monsters into this world.
The only thing certain about my future is that I’ll be living it all alone. Just me and Tatiana. And probably a bunch of cats. Isn’t that how spinsters live?
Tatiana always tells me my humanity is a gift…a blessing. But to me, it feels like a cruel curse. I’d secretly hoped Lucky would be successful in killing the Amazèa, even though the odds aren’t in our favor. Death isn’t nearly as frightening as the prospect of living the rest of my life alone as an unwanted outsider. Before that horrible day, I knew
who I was and where I belonged. Not anymore. Now I’m nothing but an empty shell void of the supernatural powers and abilities that define my kind. I straddle two worlds but belong to neither.
Maybe, if Lucky does manage to kill the Amazèa one day, I’ll return to how I was before. Things were very different then, but they were good…turning off my painful feelings in a blink whenever I wanted to. Never feeling scared, or alone. Most importantly, feeling like I was always going to be all right.
Wouldn’t that be nice.
******
I move through the rest of my morning like a robot, vaguely aware of speaking when spoken to and nodding my head at the appropriate times. Kieron isn’t in any of our morning classes, so as I head out to join Corrine for lunch, I force myself to accept the fact he’s not showing up today.
It’s funny, though, how no one else’s world seems any different for it. While I feel like something precious and valuable has been taken from me, I see Corrine happily chatting by the fountains. Across the quad, Drusilla is holding court with her cronies looking as smug and satisfied as ever. Neither seems to notice or care that Kieron’s not around.
Corinne is already sitting with two other girls, Emme and Skye. Emme has blue hair and three nose rings, and Skye has kept her head completely shaved since last year. They’re nice enough, and mostly keep to themselves. Corrine and I consider them our ‘outcast allies’. I take a seat beside Skye and slowly unwrap my tuna sandwich.
I try to pay attention as they yap about music and boys, but my mind wanders back to Kieron.
“Hello, Earth to Liora,” Emme waves her hands in front of me.
“Huh?” I snap out of my daze.
“Are you going to the stupid dance or what?”
“What dance? Oh…” I finally notice the signs promoting the winter formal in a few weeks. “…No. Dances are lame. Especially school ones.” I shrug as if I’m way too cool for such things. But deep down it bothers me that something as simple as attending a school dance is just one more thing I’ll never get to experience.
I start to fantasize about what it would be like to go with Kieron as my date. I’d get all dressed up in a pretty gown…maybe even one that isn’t black… and he’d pick me up wearing a tux that made him look like a movie star. He’d take me in his arms and together we’d waltz slowly under the starry sky…Everyone would be green with envy at how happy we are, how perfect we are together. All the girls would die from jealousy seeing how much he obviously loves me…
“Liora!” This time it’s Skye snapping impatiently.
“Huh?” I blink.
“Do you want to go to the bonfire Friday night? We can ditch the football game, and I can get us some beers. We can get wasted…”
I sigh. “Can’t. Sorry.”
Emme nudges Skye. “See? Told ya. You know…” Emme turns to me, “It’s kinda weird how you never want to hang out ever. I mean come on, we know your grandma is blind and all, but it’s not like she holds you prisoner...You leave her alone when you come to school, what’s stopping you from ditching the old bag for a few hours after she’s gone to sleep?”
I pick at the crust of my sandwich. “I just don’t want to. I hate leaving her alone, and during the day someone else is with her, but at night I’m all she’s got.”
“But still,” Emme presses, “It just seems like once in a while you’d be able to hang out…why would you want to stay home every night? It’s a Friday night…you should be out partying with everyone else, not staying home with someone five times your age….come on, live a little…”
“Can’t. Sorry.” I stand up and brush the crumbs off my legs. Corrine gives me a sympathetic smile, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. I make up some excuse about having to finish some homework and head off to the library for the remainder of lunch period.
Even though I should be used to it by now, Emme’s words cut deep, a stark reminder of all I’m missing. Even if getting drunk at a bonfire isn’t exactly my idea of a good time, at least it’s something. I’m actually surprised Skye even asked me to go. Maybe it was just so they could give me a hard time when I refused.
After what seems like an eternity, the final bell of the day rings. Freedom. I race to my locker, toss in my books and charge to the parking lot. I’m mid-stride when my body stops so suddenly anyone watching would think I had slammed into an invisible glass wall. I inhale sharply, staring .
He’s here.
I remind myself to breathe as Kieron starts his slow lope toward me. Although I’m happy to see him, at the same time I’m terrified by how much this happiness consumes me.
“Hey, Liora. So where should we do this?” he asks.
“Huh?”
“Are you still willing to help me with my assignments?”
I blink and will my mouth to work. “Uh, yeah, sure. I just assumed since you weren’t here all day…”
He laughs, and all I can think of is how I could listen to this sound for the rest of my life. “Yes, didn’t quite make it in today.” He pauses and glances behind him. “Something came up. If you’ve already made other plans I understand—”
“No,” I say quickly. “I was hoping to be with you today…” Oh no, that didn’t sound desperate at all.
He grins again and hitches his backpack over his shoulder. “Great.”
I glance around and motion to the octagonal building behind me. “You wanna go to the library? There are study rooms in there.” I look back at him and catch a faint grimace on his face. “Or we can go somewhere else,” I add.
He smiles, and I decide it must have been just my imagination. “No, the library is fine. After you, m’lady.”
******
With an exasperated sigh, I close my book and glare at the group of girls watching us. This is getting completely out of hand. What in the world is going on with these insane females? Kieron and I hadn’t been in the library for five minutes before they started gathering nearby, craning their necks to see what we were doing.
I lean my head toward him. “Why is everyone staring so much?” I whisper. “Don’t you think it’s a little strange? It’s not like you have two heads or something—”
Kieron glances up, seemingly oblivious to his growing fan club until now. He gives his admirers a quick smile before turning to me. “They’re staring at me because I placed a spell on them.”
I choke on some of the diet orange soda I’m sipping. The burning tickle travels up my nose, and I cover my face with my hand so as not to cough all over his face. “What?” I gasp.
He stares at me, his eyes wide and gently pats me on my back. I clear my throat several times and try not to die of embarrassment. “Are you okay?” he asks. I nod, humiliated, and give my runny nose a stealthy wipe.
“Of course, I’m only joking,” he says, studying me. “The reason they’re staring is because I am extraordinarily good-looking.”
Having only just recovered from my original coughing fit, his deadpan response sends me into another one. “And also very humble,” I manage to spit out between laughs and coughs.
He shrugs and rubs my back again, much like a mother pats her newborn after a feeding. “Humility has nothing to do with it. I’m not ashamed to be exceptionally handsome, just as you shouldn’t feel bad for being unusually beautiful. There’s nothing wrong with it. In fact, it’s hundreds of thousands of years of biological evolution at its finest.”
I’ve stopped coughing and laughing. “What?”
“Females are hardwired to propagate with the best and strongest mate available, to ensure survival of their species. Even before we knew about genes and DNA, nature gave indicators to let the opposite sex know what mate is best, physically speaking. Now, as they say, looks aren’t everything. And they’re right. But from a strictly sexual standpoint, for reproductive purposes only, you can judge a book by its cover. Most of the time.” He tosses me a sexy grin and glances briefly over to the gawking girls.
“… People think it’s sha
llow to care about looks when choosing a partner, but in fact the opposite is true. We’re operating from one of the oldest and most enduring instincts known to man. The urge to find the strongest, sturdiest match is deeply encoded within each and every one of us. Biologically and anthropologically speaking, this is about the age females are preparing for reproduction. Instinctually, they’re looking for the best mates. I am tall, athletic, and have masculine, proportional features, indicating I have good genes. They want what I have. What I represent. You can’t fight hundreds of thousands of years of human nature, darlin’.”
He stops, looks at me, and laughs. “Sorry, I kind of went off there, didn’t I? It’s just, well, I’m kinda fascinated by human biology and anthropology—how it causes people to interact with each other. Where’d I lose you? Your eyes have totally glazed over.”
It takes me a long moment to answer him. “Right after the part where you said I was beautiful,” I finally whisper. No one, no one, has ever told me I was beautiful before. Not even in a phony way, and certainly not in the sincere way Kieron just did. I’m stunned by the effect these words have on me, and how desperately I need to hear them again.
His eyes settle on my face. Comfortably. Easily. “You are, you know—Beautiful.” His voice is lower now, but I hear him clearly. The whole world seems muted except for him.
“Thanks.”
He cracks a cocky grin. “Don’t thank me, thank your genetic heritage. I’m merely observing the simple and complex principles that contributed to designing—”
“Oh, stop it.” Laughing, I playfully tap him with a book.
“Okay, okay.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender. More people are watching us now, and I notice the stern-faced librarian making a beeline for our table.
Kieron sees her too. “Wanna get out of here?”
“Yes.”
Once we get to the parking lot, Kieron suggests we take his truck—he knows a place we can go. Somewhere we won’t be bothered. I readily agree, feeling a flurry of nerves as he holds the door open for me.