Devils' Day Party: A High School Bully Romance

by C. M. Stunich

  “I was thinking we head to Eureka Springs, start off with some breakfast and then dress shopping?” I start the car—takes three tries for the engine to turn over, as usual—and start us down the dirt logging road that leads to the highway.

  We drive in silence for a while before Pearl nods toward the stereo.

  “No offense, but does this piece of crap play music?”

  With a laugh, I reach down and grab my phone from the cup holder, passing it over to her.

  “My moms splurged on a new sound system for me last year; it has Bluetooth and all that shit.” I smile, my hands tightening slightly around the wheel as it occurs to me how much I take my family for granted. Fuck, as soon as this is over, I'm going to make more of an effort with them. Next time my little sisters ask to paint a mural with me, I'm not going to act like it's an imposition. “Choose whatever you want.”

  Pearl browses for a few and then starts one of my playlists, one that I forgot I had titled I Hate the Knight Crew. It's angry and wild and full of screaming vocals. She starts it off with “Venom” by Icon For Hire.

  “So. Why are you being so fucking nice to me? This isn't some bullshit Devils' Day trick is it? Because if I find out you're using my baby against me, I will cut a bitch.” A chill shivers through me, but I force a smile anyway, glancing her way. But only for a second. Goddess knows I'm not taking my eyes off the road for long, not after suffering three fatal car crashes in less than a month's time.

  “You're the only one I thought might understand what I'm going through,” I say, trying to word things carefully. I'd rather not dig myself an even deeper pit of lies. “Besides, there's no reason why we should hate each other. I mean, I don't hate you, but you've never seemed to like me.”

  Pearl scoffs and glances out the window at the passing trees. That's all there really is out here, trees and springs and lakes. Personally, I like it, but I want to try living in a city once I graduate, at least for a little while.

  “You're always panting after the Knight Crew,” Pearl says with a shrug of her shoulders, removing her mask and setting it between us. Eureka Springs doesn't celebrate Devils' Day the way we do in Devil Springs. Likely, most of the locals have some idea of what we do out here in the boonies, but most won't be wearing masks or celebrating themselves. “And any friend of the Knight Crew is no friend of mine.” She plants her chin in her hand and keeps her gaze out the window. “How far along are you? Maybe an abortion would be best?”

  “I've never panted after the Knight Crew,” I say, frowning hard and tightening my hands around the wheel. Pearl glances back at me with a pale brow raised, smiling wickedly at the sight of my anger.

  “No? Well, you watch them the same way they watch you, and that's pretty much the same thing.” Pearl leans back in the seat as the song switches to “The In-Between” by In This Moment. It's the perfect tune for Devils' Day, I must say. Even the video reminds me of the holiday, with the lead singer dressed in a white shroud, a crescent moon symbol on her forehead. I shiver. “Don't have a baby just to give it to the Knights. Look what they've done to Calix.” Her mouth tightens and something strange comes over her expression. “And his brother, Cooper, is even worse.”

  “Abortion laws in Arkansas are draconian,” I say, although that wouldn't be an excuse I'd use if I actually needed one. Women know when they're ready to become mothers, and if I wasn't, I wouldn't let some bullshit laws stop me from traveling out of state. “What sort of food are you into?” I ask quickly, trying to change the subject. The more I have to dig into this lie, the worse I feel. I shouldn't be lying to get Pearl to pay attention to me; that won't change shit for either of us.

  “Mud Street Café,” she says easily, and I feel my gut churn slightly. The last time I was there, I was with Calix. We had a good fucking morning. I almost—almost—believed that I'd made it to September 26th for real. But then Pearl … And knowing she'd committed suicide was killing Calix, too.

  “One of my favorites,” I say, trying to choke back my feelings.

  We're quiet for the rest of the ride, pulling into the historic part of Eureka Springs and nabbing a lucky parking space, just two over from where Calix stole one just the other day.

  We head inside and end up sitting at the exact same fucking table.

  Clearly, the universe is messing with me.

  “What sort of dress were you thinking of wearing to the party tonight?” Pearl asks absently, not even bothering to pick up the menu. When the waitress comes by to grab our drink order, she rattles off some fancy coffee that's not on the menu, and the woman doesn't even blink. “Make it two,” Pearl corrects, turning back to me as our waitress leaves.

  “Actually, I'd made myself something new to wear,” I say with a small sigh. “But my little sisters—they're only eight—spilled some spaghetti sauce on it. I washed it and hung it up to dry, but this morning, it was gone.”

  Pearl watches me, but says nothing, and I decide that there's something about her honey-brown stare that's a bit unnerving. Even if I manage to save her, we'll never really be friends. But that's okay. Not everyone in the world needs to agree or to be friends with each other, but we can all respect one another, show a little love, and get along.

  “It was gone because I stole it,” she says, and my head snaps up from the menu, my eyes widening in disbelief.

  “You … what?” I ask, blinking through the shock. “How? Why?”

  “I have a friend who goes to Devil Springs High.” Pearl shrugs her shoulders, and I frown. “She lives in the same mobile home park as you.”

  “So, calling me Trailer Park served what purpose?” I snap, before remembering that I'm here to be a small kindness in Pearl's day.

  “It pissed you off, didn't it?” she retorts, shrugging again. Here and there I see someone glance over at our pleated skirts and blazers. They all know Crescent Prep and the rich city kids who populate it. Except, I'm not one of them, the only local at a local school. “Anyway, I saw the dress, and I just … took it. I thought about wearing it to the party; I probably wouldn't have.”

  “Why would you take my dress?” I ask, confused. I close my menu and glance up at Pearl. On day one, her admission is something that would’ve made me angry. Furious, probably. But after all I’ve been through, it doesn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. Perspective is important, isn’t it? Something that seems so horrible one minute, is like a drop in the ocean the next.

  “Because you always look so put out and sad,” she says, gritting her teeth in a way that reminds me of Raz. My heart jumps in my chest, and I try really hard not to think about the day at the spring, and how his hand felt wrapped around mine. “And you have no right to be.” My mouth drops open as Pearl says to me what I almost verbatim said to Calix. “You have two parents who love you, two sisters, two best friends. Nobody took your baby away, nobody shipped you off to live in another state because they're embarrassed of you. Your family lets you—no encourages you—to do whatever you want, dye your hair however you want, paint whatever the fuck you want. And then you have the audacity to act like life is so hard?” She shrugs again and shakes her head. “Look, I'll give the dress back, in light of this bullshit with Calix, but you need to get your shit together.”

  I just stare at her, the girl who I caught cutting herself in the train car, the one who shot herself during a Devils' Day Party days prior. And here she is, telling me to get my shit together.

  Fuck, maybe she's right?

  No, no, she is right.

  I spent day one of this mess acting like a spoiled brat, and I ended up off the edge of a cliff for it. Closing my eyes, I exhale and then open them when our waitress sets the coffees down on the table and takes our order. Pearl gets a spinach and mushroom omelet while I order a croissant sandwich and three different kinds of muffins. Why not? I may as well binge today. There are some bakeries and candy stores here in Eureka Springs I'm going to load up on while I have the chance.

  “Okay, deal,” I say
, and Pearl pauses with her straw halfway to her lips. I pull my own iced coffee close and take a drink. “You're right. And you can keep the dress if you want.”

  She just stares at me for a moment before her cheeks turn pink and she looks back down at her drink.

  “Well, you said you'd buy me a new one. I'd rather have that. You can keep your homemade rag.” She starts sucking on her coffee drink and I burst out laughing, letting my head fall back and not caring if anyone stops to stare. If you can't find time to laugh loud enough to piss somebody else off, then you're not really living, now are you?

  “Deal. Let's eat and then get you a new dress. And maybe a hat from the haberdashery.” I grin and take a sip of my own drink, groaning loudly enough that I could play Sally in When Harry Met Sally.

  Pearl looks at me like I'm crazy, but some of the ire leaves her expression.

  After breakfast, we make our way up Spring Street, using the emergency credit card the moms gave me to buy dresses, shoes, jewelry, fresh taffy, and even two stuffy hats that cost a pretty penny.

  “Your moms are okay with you spending all this money?” Pearl asks when we take a break at the Eureka Daily Roast for some chai tea. The answer to that question is a resounding fuck no, but before they ever find out I've blown every cent of credit they have, the day will start over and this little shopping spree will be nothing but a distant memory.

  “They'll be mad,” I say, thinking about how they'd actually act if tomorrow really did come. “Likely they'll make me work in the store to pay it all back.” My lips twist into a smile as I look up from my heaping plate of pastries. Pretty sure Pearl thinks I've got an eating disorder at this point, but that's okay. “Want to see their store after we're done here?”

  “Sure,” she says, her cheeks coloring pink again. I've noticed she does that every time I compliment her, like when I said her hair was pretty, or that she looked good in the emerald green dress she picked out. “Why not?”

  We head up the sloping hill toward the moms' store—A Little Slice of Karma.

  “They named their store after you?” Pearl asks, and I shake my head.

  “They named me after their store.” We step inside to the musky smell of incense and the gentle tinkling of an antique bell that the moms got on some trip to Cambodia or something before I was born. The walls are painted a soft heather and lined with original art. Sculptures fill every nook and cranny, and handmade jewelry decorates the glass cases that line the edges of the shop.

  “Oh, Karma!” a young woman calls out, moving out from behind the counter.

  “Hey, Jaymin,” I respond with a grin, trusting my moms' employee to keep my ditching school a secret—at least for now. The school sends out robo-calls when a student misses class, but the moms are likely in the studio with their phones on silent; they won't know until later. Even then, it is Devils' Day.

  Jaymin gives me a tight hug, her tortoiseshell glasses and turquoise hair giving her a funky sort of look that fits in well with Eureka Springs.

  “Who's your friend?”

  “This is Pearl,” I say, nodding my chin in Pearl's direction. “We decided we'd rather go shopping than spend Devils' Day at school.”

  “Girl, the things I did on Devils' Day …” Jaymin laughs, and shakes her head. “Yeah, no, I promised your moms I wouldn't tell you the shit I got into. You know, so you don't get any ideas.” Jaymin winks one of her brown eyes at me and then turns to Pearl with a smile. “So, do you two need something funky to take to the party? How about a six-foot statue of a glittery penis?” She gestures to the statue in question as Pearl's mouth drops open. She recovers her surprise fairly quickly and ends up running a hand over the head-sized … well, head.

  “Your moms must be interesting people,” she says with a raised brow. “Lesbians who sell giant dicks in their store.”

  “We have giant vaginas, too,” Jaymin offers, turning and pointing to yet another very fascinating statue in the store's opposite corner. “Take a look around and let me know if you see anything that catches your fancy. Family and friends get a special discount.” Jaymin winks again and then turns away as another customer comes in.

  “We have masks here,” I tell Pearl, moving over to one of the glass cases and pointing down at the row of beautiful masks, each one a work of art in its own right. “If you want one, I'd be happy to get it for you.”

  “Why though?” Pearl asks, glaring at me before dropping her gaze to the row of monstrously beautiful caricatures beneath the glass. The first mask is a pixie-like pink with translucent wings where the ears should be. The second is a metallic green with long antennae, reminiscent of the emerald ash borer beetle, that awful pest that's become a symbol of Devils' Day. There's a witch mask with a hooked nose, a lion with a glittering mane, and a pale faerie-like face with tiny horns wrapped in gold leaf.

  “Because we'll look fierce as hell if we show up in one of these,” I say, moving behind the counter to snag the key for the case from the back wall. Jaymin is busy helping the other customer with the penis statue—believe me, a local artist makes those, and they sell like hotcakes—so I don't bother her, opening the case myself and handing pearl the fae mask with the horns.

  She takes it from me, studying the price tag and raising her pale brows, before finally slipping it onto her face. I take the pixie mask and try that on.

  “Too soft,” Pearl says as I glance in the round mirror on top of the counter. I agree with her and put the mask back, trying the green beetle one instead. Pearl slips the fae mask on, but it's clearly far too large for her fine-boned face.

  “Try this one,” I suggest after I put the beetle mask back, grabbing a black mask with a twisted sneer and fangs. “It's terrifying. You'll scare the shit out of Raz.”

  “Nothing scares the shit out of Raz,” Pearl says with a sneer, but she puts the mask on anyway and looks at herself in the mirror for a long, long time. I busy myself trying on masks and then decide to check the drawers underneath the case, where my moms put extra inventory. As soon as I open the drawer and spot the Diana fritillary mask I almost choke. It's blue and black, indicating a female of the species. The males are always orange and black, like the necklace Barron gave me. Or the tattoo on his chest.

  “I'd rescue you; I'd be the Rose to your Jack.”

  My heart stutters and I stand up quickly, clutching the mask against my heart.

  “This one,” Pearl says, looking up at me from behind the façade of a beast. “I want this one.”

  By the time we get to the Devils' Day party, it's in full swing.

  The gatekeeper grins at us from behind a red imp's mask and takes our phones, ushering us through with a bow, his shirtless chest covered in dark glitter.

  We park next to Raz's Shelby Cobra, and I find that I can't resist running my fingers over the hood as we pass. He fucked me on this hood, and he doesn't even remember. The thought is sobering, but I make myself smile anyway, my arm hooked through Pearl's as we head to the party. My plan is to stay up all night and watch her, make sure she makes it to sunrise. After that … I don't know.

  One step at a time.

  I'm wearing the gown I made, the one that Pearl stole from the clothesline that I haven't seen since the day before the original Devils' Day. It's a floor-length gown, made entirely of black lace. Underneath, I'm wearing a black bikini that just barely shows through, giving little hints of skin elsewhere.

  As soon as Barron glances over his shoulder and sees me in the butterfly mask, something strange happens in his face. He's sitting around the campfire with Calix, sucking on a honey-colored lollipop with a tiny scorpion inside of it.

  Everything goes on Devils' Day, I guess.

  “Have you seen Luke?” I ask, pausing next to the Knight Crew's small fire. The bonfire rages behind us, surrounded by the sweaty, gyrating bodies of students wearing masks of all sorts. They look wild tonight, wanton, the very opposite of everything their families wish they could be. To the left of the bonfire, Cami Alh
ambra is sitting in a circle of other girls, white candles lit between each of them, and a spell book open on the forest floor in front of her.

  I turn back to find Calix looking at me like he'd rather wring my neck with his black-gloved hands than answer my question.

  Then I remember that today, I didn't make nice with a single one of the Knight Crew boys.

  Fuck.

  “Grab her,” Calix says casually, and Barron rises to his feet, several of the diaphanous-gowned, demon-mask girls swarming to do their master's bidding.

  “Not tonight,” Pearl says, stepping in front of me. The girls titter in confusion as Barron stares at me over her shoulder.

  I better come up with something and fast or else I may very well end up locked in the Devils’ Den—I can see the rusted key hanging around Barron's neck—or in the cabin where Calix and I first had sex.

  “Barron, your notebook is filled with drawings of me,” I say, and even over the screams of the band on the makeshift stage, I know he can hear me. His dual-colored eyes narrow in suspicion. “Please don't hurt me tonight.” My voice is even, almost deadpan. That little hiccup at the end really gets me though. “I will kick you in the nuts if I have to, but I'd rather not.”

  The sound of a gun going off draws my attention, and my stomach roils with nausea.

  “What is that?” Pearl asks, cocking her head to one side as Calix stands up, dressed in what looks almost like a butler's uniform, but with snazzy cufflinks in the shape of crescent moons, his jacket open and his chest bare. A new outfit every single night. I can't figure what I'm supposed to make of that, especially since so much of this day runs on a script without my interference.

  “Raz brought some guns to do some target practice with,” Barron says absently, and I can't decide if he's saying that to freak me out or because something about my mask or what I said about his sketchbook is throwing him off.

  “Where?” I ask, fear filling me as I lift my lacy skirts and prepare to run. I have to find Raz before something bad happens.