Devils' Day Party: A High School Bully Romance

by C. M. Stunich

  “I don’t know about that,” I say, tugging my own mask back into place. “The break from boring is nice, but I could do without all the weirdness. Last year, I found Cami and her friends naked and dancing in the woods like witches.”

  “Exactly!” Luke says, slapping her hands on her thighs and standing up. She spins to face us, reaching up to ruffle her short, blue hair. Crescent Prep used to have strict rules about unnatural hair color, eye color, tattoos, and piercings, but I think after a while they realized they had more important things to deal with and dialed back the dress code a bit. Part of me wonders if Raz wasn’t responsible for a big portion of that. He spit in the vice principal’s face freshman year when she asked him to remove his red contacts.

  Corralling troublesome kids in the middle of the woods is hard enough. Harder still when most of them have the net worth of a small country. They might be in exile, but they get what they want anyway. Most of the things the Knight Crew puts their energy into are awful yet on this one thing, I applaud their efforts. My own purple hair dances in a quiet breeze.

  “Exactly, what?” I ask, raising a brow as she steps directly between me and Barron, cutting off his intense stare. I shiver as I look up at her.

  “I want to live in a world where I’m free to be as weird as I want without judgment, where other people care more about living their own lives than they do about how I live mine.” She glances over her shoulder at Sonja and Calix, their faces close as they whisper about something that I just know is going to end badly for me. I don’t just get to hit the Knight Crew’s leader’s car this morning and walk away unscathed. “Tonight, I’m making a move on Sonja.”

  “Stupid idea,” I murmur as April sips a fruit smoothie, her pale green eyes nearly hidden behind the thick, black frames of her glasses as she listens intently to our conversation. The pair of black tourmaline bracelets rests against the pale skin of her left arm.

  “Really? Because I let you make the worst decision known to man last year, and I didn’t say anything about it.”

  “What decision?” April asks, sitting up and groaning as she cups her belly with one arm. She’s, like, maybe five foot two and pregnant as fuck. It’s a bit terrifying to look at sometimes, her dress shirt untucked, purple blazer unbuttoned to accommodate her belly. “I feel like I’m missing part of a story here.”

  Luke turns to her with a puzzled expression, and then flashes a grin. I give her a warning look in response, but I can tell she’s undeterred. Maybe I’m just not that scary? If I were, maybe I wouldn’t be subject to so many awful Devils’ Day pranks. Like, for example, the one I just know is about to come out of Luke’s mouth.

  “Last year, Calix Knight”—thankfully she lowers her voice some—“confessed his supposed love for Karma.”

  “What?!” April squeaks, sitting up and leaning forward, her mousy brown hair plaited into pigtails and slung over her shoulders. Her mouth hangs open, the straw from her smoothie stuck to her bottom lip. I roll my eyes and stand up, but Luke isn’t done.

  “Oh, it gets better. Not only did he confess his feelings, he told Karma he’d been in love with her for years, that he thought about her every night, touched himself to the very idea of her …”

  “Luke, come on,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, my pleated wool skirt dancing against the pale white of my upper thighs. “I think she gets the picture already.”

  “After that, Calix took her up to one of the treehouses—the fancy ones meant for tourists—and fucked her virginity sweetly away.” Luke casts a disapproving glance in my direction as I frown, my cheeks flushed with heat. I try very hard not to glance in Calix’s direction, but it happens anyway. He’s staring right at me, his devil’s mask an ebon black to match his eyes. I look back at Luke, willing her to shut the hell up with every fiber of my being. “And I mean all of her virginity. I’m not sure there’s a position or variation on the sex act they didn’t cover.”

  “The sex act?” I choke out, shaking my head, and adjusting my own mask, glitter smearing across my fingers. My mother—not Jane, but Cathy this time—made it for me. She’s a professional artist. They both are, actually, and they own a shop in Eureka Springs that manages to support our family. Of course, we do live in a trailer park, but I’m not ashamed of it. The trailers there are all nice, well-maintained, surrounded by flowers and winding paths made of local limestone.

  “The sex act?” April repeats, casting a sympathetic look my way. “That’s what my parents called it when they caught me in bed with my boyfriend. Come on, Luke, up your vocabulary.”

  “Well, I happen to still be a virgin,” Luke says, touching her fingers to her chest and then frowning. “Although I’m not sure I even believe in the concept. I think virginity might be a social construct presented to us by the patriarchy.”

  “As much as I enjoy conversations about the patriarchy,” I start, noticing that Barron’s finally stood up, his multi-colored eyes on me. “I think we should go.”

  “Why?” Luke asks, brows furrowing as she glances back in the Knight Crew’s direction. They’re all looking at me now, them and their cronies, their groupies. I try not to judge the hangers-on. After all, they’re drawn to the power, the danger, the impossibility of the Knight Crew. But yet … I can’t help wrinkling my nose at the small crowd around Calix’s table, the gleam in their eyes that says they’ll work for snacks. Like dogs. Pathetic.

  “Let’s go,” I say, standing up and grabbing my book bag. I barely make it three steps before I’m slamming into Raz’s chest. I hadn’t noticed him move, but there he is, sly mouth twisted into a rictus grin beneath his mask. His fingers curl around my wrist, tight enough to bruise. Shit. He’s magnificently—almost disturbingly—handsome in his cruelty. The universe isn’t fair, is it? He shouldn’t be so pretty.

  “Bonjour, Karma,” he purrs, yanking me close as Calix, Barron, Sonja and their awful horde of followers—dressed in glittering faerie masks, grotesque goblin faces, and the grinning visages of hag-like witches—approach, circling me. Cutting me off from April and Luke.

  “I’m not afraid to go to the administration!” Luke calls out, but I’m surrounded now, forced to look up into Raz’s red eyes, the vicious, spiteful gleam in them sending chills down my spine. For the past three years, I’ve worried about Devils’ Day, wondered what trouble the Knight Crew might bring my way. I thought last year’s ruse of Calix confessing his love and then fucking me was the worst they could do. But the way Raz is looking at me right now? Maybe I was wrong.

  Maybe things can get a whole lot worse.

  “An eye for an eye,” Raz says, dragging me forward. I start fighting him the moment he begins to move, but Barron appears on my other side, restraining me. Even outside their little circle of influence, the other students watch hungrily, their filthy rich maws wet with slaver as they seek out violence and discord with glittering black eyes.

  I know—I know—that Devils’ Day isn’t supernatural, that it doesn’t mean anything, but sometimes, it feels like there’s some truth it. The demons and devils … they really have come out to play.

  Raz clamps a hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming as he and Barron drag me down the halls toward the front entrance of the school. We don’t pass by any staff members on our way, and as much as I’d like to believe that Luke or April will get help for me, they’re probably trapped in the courtyard by the remainder of Calix’s worshipful mob.

  We stumble down the front steps of the school and toward the gravel parking lot that’s designated for students. All around us, the woods stand a silent witness to whatever torment the Knight Crew has in store.

  As soon as I see my car—affectionally dubbed the Little Bee by my family and friends—I can see what Raz means by an eye for an eye. The tires are missing, the windshield is smashed to pieces, and the rear hood is lifted up, exposing what’s left of the engine.

  The boys release me, throwing me to my knees in the gravel. I cringe as rocks and bits of debris
get stuck in my skin, sending a wave of agony through me. Raz adds to the torment by kicking dust up in my face and laughing as I choke on it.

  “You fucking assholes,” I grind out, trying and failing to push up to my feet. Barron puts a hand on my shoulder and shoves me to my knees with little effort on his part. The crowd swarms around us, blocking me with a wall of human flesh, their masks eerie in the afternoon light. My body quivers with adrenaline as I look up and find Calix in his black mask, staring down at me, Sonja smirking on his right side. “Don’t think I’m afraid to report you,” I quip, because I’ve done it in the past, and I’ll do it again. That’s what started all of this, I think. Freshman year, I reported the three of them for harassing a fellow student. No, no, not just harassing but assaulting. They beat the shit out of some poor boy and left him with broken limbs.

  Of course, I don’t know for sure that that’s why they hate me. My complaint was anonymous, so they’re not supposed to know. I just always assumed they’d found out somehow.

  “Report us?” Calix asks, his voice like a cool winter night. When dark first starts to fall, when the sun first sets, and the quiet and cold set in, you convince yourself you can last until first light. But slowly, hour after hour, it just gets colder and darker and quieter until you find yourself shivering, half-frozen, and counting down the minutes until insanity, frostbite, or death. That’s Calix, in a nutshell. “You’re not going to report us. Karma, ne fais pas l'idiot.” Don’t be a fool. “You hit my car this morning—on purpose. I’m just going to assume you don’t have insurance. And we both know you don’t have any money.” Calix reaches out and runs a finger down the side of my face. I consider biting it, but that won’t make my day any easier.

  I’m surrounded.

  I settle for glaring, my hands balled into fists, my body quivering with unspent rage.

  “Consider us even—for now.” He smiles at me again, and then leans forward, putting his lips near mine. “But tonight is the Devils’ Day Party. We both remember what happened last year.” I haul back and slap him in the face as hard as I can, and he rears back, a sharp frown curving his lips as his cheek turns pink.

  “What a feisty little kitty-cat,” Raz growls, grabbing me by the hair and yanking my head back. The crowd around us hisses, as if they’re as wild and fae as the masks they’re wearing. “Do you like pissing us off? Because you’re so damn good at it.” He looks up, glancing to Calix before running his tongue over his lips—hungrily. “What do you think we could do with her this year? If I confess my love, do you think she’ll fuck me, too?”

  I jerk my hair from Raz’s grasp, despite the pain in my scalp, but when I make a run for it, Barron grabs me, folding me up in strong arms and yanking me back to front against his hard body. The sleeves of his white hoodie envelop me as he sucks on a lollipop and clinks it against his teeth.

  Raz peels bits of purple hair from his fingertips in disgust and gives Calix a look. Just then, the bell rings, and one of the administrators appears on the front steps, watching us with an expectant look.

  Nobody at Crescent Prep gives a shit about what the staff has to say, but—despite their bravado—they sure as hell care about news of their disobedience getting back to their parents. Most of them have a lot to lose, after all—trust funds, inheritances, monthly allowances worth more than my parents’ yearly wages. They’re always very, very careful to keep their games hidden.

  “Let’s tie her to a tree and leave her there overnight, see what happens when the devils come out to play,” Raz suggests, fingering the edge of my now-dirty academy jacket. His red eyes gleam as he rakes his other hand over his dirty blonde hair.

  “Mm. We’ll deal with her later,” Calix says, cupping my face in a cool hand and looking at me with crow-black eyes. “That is, if she’s brave enough to show for the party tonight.”

  “I think I’d rather deal with her now,” Raz says, reminding me that they might be called the Knight Crew to the rest of us, but that Calix Knight is hardly in charge of either Raz or Barron. No, I have no delusions that if Raz made up his mind to hurt me here and now, the other two would do little to stop it.

  Calix looks bored as he stands up straight, the wind ruffling bits of dark hair around his black devil mask. He turns away, pausing just once to glance over his shoulder, a magnificent halo of cruelty in his cold half-smile.

  “Do whatever you want. I’d rather keep to my family’s good graces.” He turns away, leaving me to Raz and Barron as he walks across the parking lot in his royal purple slacks and matching jacket, as if the academy uniform is a set of plush robes and a scepter, like he’s some sort of king among princes.

  Barron shoves me forward, knocking me back to my knees on the gravel. I turn back to glare at him, fisting my hands in the loose rock and readying myself to throw a handful or two into his face. His brown and blue eyes bore into mine as he squats down and knocks the lollipop around in his mouth, his elbows on his knees, his white hoodie stained with charcoal at the ends of the sleeves.

  “Don’t come to the party tonight, Karma,” he says, rising to his feet just as I turn to launch the gravel at him. It hits him in the knees of his slacks as he stalks past, leaving me alone with Raz and Sonja. The rest of the group has already started to filter back toward the front entrance, glancing hungrily over their shoulders for one last look at whatever delicious cruelty the remaining Knight Crew might inflict.

  “Whatever you do, don’t get caught. One more call to Daddy Loveren and you’re in deep shit. We need you at the party tonight.” Sonja gives me one, last scathing look before leaning down just far enough to whisper in my ear. “How did you ever believe he could love you?” she asks, like she feels sorry for me.

  I decide it’s best to say nothing.

  If she leaves, it’ll just be me and Raz. I can probably fight him off, but I’m not sure if I could take them both on. I’m an artist, not a fighter. Although, over the years, I’ve tried. I never take their shit lying down, but I’ve never been able to match them blow for blow either.

  Sonja stalks off and I look up to see Raz staring down at me with narrowed red eyes.

  “You’re fucking disgusting, do you know that?” he asks, but I say nothing. Instead, the fingers of my right hand curl into the dirt and dust, and I ready myself for a fight. Raz is strong, but I don’t have to beat him. I just have to last long enough for a teacher to hear the commotion and come running. “Don’t let me see you at that party tonight, Trailer Park.”

  Raz grabs my book bag as he passes, reaching inside and tearing out my lunch. He throws my bag aside and keeps going, twisting the top off the kombucha I packed this morning. He takes a drink and wrinkles his nose as I climb to my feet, brushing gravel and blood down my knees. When I move to grab my bag, Raz makes a sound of disgust.

  “Is this that rotten hippie tea shit?” he asks, turning and throwing what’s left of the drink into my face. The smile that lights his own face is wicked and awful. “Too bad. If you’d packed a soda, I would’ve just drank it. Try not to be so goddamn weird, you fucking liberal snowflake. I know it must be hard, with those dyke moms of yours.”

  “At least my parents love me,” I say, the words snapping hot and fast from the end of my tongue. As soon as they leave my lips, I almost regret them. Almost. Raz’s entire body goes stiff, but the cruel smile doesn’t leave his sharp lips.

  “I bet they do,” he replies, making a ‘V’ with his fingers and sticking his tongue between them in a lewd gesture. My eyes widen and fury sweeps over me in a hot wave. I chuck the dirt and gravel as hard as I can, right into Raz’s red eyes. He doubles over with a sharp sound—I bet that really hurts with those contacts of his—but I’m not done. Years of frustration overwhelm me, and I charge him, knocking him onto his back as he struggles to get the debris from his eyes.

  “Miss Sartain!” a voice shouts, and before I get a chance to do anything more than knock Raz over, hands are grabbing me by the upper arms and dragging me back. Mrs. D
upré kneels down next to Raz as Mr. Aldrich, the biology teacher, pulls me up and away from my bully.

  The last thing I see before he marches me into the office is the awful smile on Raz’s face.

  I’m given a week’s worth of detention for attacking Raz, despite my protests. The administration can only punish what they’ve seen with their own eyes, and as far as they could tell, my attack on Raz Loveren was unprovoked.

  But I know they don’t miss the wet, stickiness of my clothing or the bloody patches on my knees. It’s just easier for them to punish the poor kid than the son of a prominent senator. My mothers don’t donate extra money to the school to make up for their unruly child, not the way Raz’s family does.

  So, even though it’s Devils’ Day, even though everyone—including most of the staff—will be heading out to some party or another tonight, I’m forced to sit for almost two hours after school in the library. At one point, I see Raz walk by the window outside, shouting into his phone, but I can’t hear what he’s saying, and I don’t care. My only hope is that his asshole dad is finally cutting him off.

  When I’m finally released, I check my phone for messages from Luke and April. I sent them home to get ready for the party, promising that I’d get a tow truck for Little Bee. Neither of them wanted to leave, but April relies on Luke for rides, and she’s too far along in her pregnancy to sit around an empty school waiting for me.

  I brush my fingers against Little Bee’s fake eyelashes, attached to her headlights and only partially mangled from crashing into Calix’s Aston Martin. There’s only one towing service in Devil Springs, and when I dial them up, I get a pre-recorded message from the owner about taking the day off. If it’s an emergency, he says, call the police. Well, that’s hardly an option for me, is it? After hitting Calix’s car this morning, I can’t make a big deal out of this. Whatever damage I did to his fancy ride is worth far more than a car I got from my neighbor for a few hundred bucks.