by Jaime Reed
Girls became more vicious toward me, which resulted in a scuffle in the girls’ bathroom. I could hold my own in a fistfight, but I was outnumbered by four irate girls with sharp nails and a false sense of entitlement. During this ambush, my enemies accused me of stealing boyfriends, ruining prom and future marriage plans, and jeopardizing the survival of mankind.
“You think you all that, don’t you?” a very butch junior asked while shoving me against the sink. It was a rhetorical question that I had no time to answer.
“Yeah, she does, with her phony contacts, trying to look white. You’re so fake!” A toad-face-looking girl with no neck joined in, yanking my head back by the roots of my hair.
I now understood why Caleb abhorred violence. Our spirits needed no reason to go on a murderous rampage, and I couldn’t risk the exposure. Lilith was pissed, eager to wring these heifers dry on my behalf, but to unhook her leash was straight suicide.
With a busted lip and a chunk of my hair missing, I survived the catfight and wound up in detention for my selfless act. At least there I would get a chance to do homework.
Or so I’d thought.
After the final bell, I made my way to the in-school suspension class. My smart mouth had led me to this room more times than I’d like to remember, so I knew the drill. Occupying the desks in the front was a set of clones, wearing black high-laced boots, heavy eyeliner, and a practiced look of boredom.
The usual suspects loomed in the back, the potheads, the brawlers, and to my surprise, Mia. She couldn’t have stood out more if she lit up in bold neon, and it threw me off guard to see such an elitist kickin’ it with derelicts. I gave my detention slip to the dozing teacher and scooted my way up the row toward the back.
I took a seat next to her and smiled. “ ’Sup.”
Mia’s head whipped around, her dark curls slapping her cheeks. “ ’Sup, Sam. Figured I’d see you here today. Heard about the bathroom throw-down. Any survivors?”
“Barely,” I grumbled, knowing this was yet another rumor I had to recover from. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?”
“Fell asleep in sociology three days in a row and I wound up here.”
“Why were you sleeping in class? Something keeping you up at night?” I asked, though I had a sneaking suspicion about what.
In this week’s episode of The Bold and the Reckless, Mia decided to play hardball. Using her status to her advantage, Mia had started spreading rumors about Dougie’s new love interest. In retaliation, Dougie had gone to Jason Lao with a tell-all exposé about their relationship, revealing to those unaware that Mia was a jealous psycho. This not-at-all-groundbreaking news solidified their position as the Mr. and Mrs. Smith of our school, and served as fodder for the tabloids.
Before fifth period, Dougie had stopped by my locker in order to uncover Mia’s next move. He had every right to be concerned. The loud, aggressive Mia he could handle, but her silence proved lethal for all involved. If she kept me in the dark about her counterattack, her intended target didn’t have a prayer.
“Why are there so many girls in here? And why do they look like they attend the goth girl academy?” Mia asked, derailing my train of thought. “That’s like the eighth shirt like that I’ve seen today. What is Specter anyway?”
I looked to the short girl sitting by the window, wearing three layers of shirts, including a T-shirt that cut across her stomach in an unflattering way. In the center of the shirt was a translucent blue boy embracing a girl with black lipstick. The phrase LOVE BEYOND THE GRAVE stretched across the top.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s a book series that all the girls are obsessed with. Hot ghost boys are en vogue this year. The main characters met in detention,” I explained, recalling what Alicia had blathered on about in the book meetings. “You visit me at work all the time; you’ve never seen it on the shelves?”
Mia cut her eyes at me and pulled out a spiral notebook from her backpack. “Sam, you know I don’t book. I go straight to the magazines.”
This was true. Mia worked better with pictures, including pie diagrams and charts. High-strung as she might be, she had brains, which I steadily probed to complete my take-home quiz for biology. The next twenty minutes consisted of me asking random vocab questions.
“Psst, Mia, what’s a polyploid?”
“An organism with more than two sets of matching chromosomes,” she answered, not lifting her eyes from her papers.
After jotting that answer down, I moved to the next question. “Oh, okay. What’s a zygote?”
“A fertilized egg. Sam, are you even trying?”
“Yes,” I said indignantly, then went to the next problem. “Hey, what’s a—”
“Just give me the damn quiz!” She snatched the paper off my desk. In exchange, she slapped her folder on my desk. Mia breezed through my homework, her pencil flying across the paper.
Quite familiar with the routine, I opened the folder, whipped out a red pen, and began proofreading her English essay. She was seriously the yin to my yang, one of those left-brained people who couldn’t write a compound sentence, but could formulate the time-space continuum in their sleep. I’d miss her so much when she went to Columbia next year; it gave me heartburn just thinking about it.
Handing back my quiz, Mia whispered, “So, is it true that you and Malik Davis are hooking up?”
I almost jumped out of my chair. “Who-with-the-what-now?”
“Quiet down!” Mrs. Braxton ordered from the front of the class.
While pretending to work, Mia whispered, “That’s what Malik’s been saying. I gotta tell ya, I was a little shocked. I know I teased you about it and all, but wow, I didn’t think you would creep like that. Did you know he almost died in a car accident?”
“So I hear,” I dismissed with a flip of the hand. “You said Malik’s been saying we’re dating?”
“More than that,” Mia mumbled with a hint of suggestion. She pulled out her phone and fiddled with the touch screen while hiding her actions within the shelter of her lap. Finding what she was looking for, she passed me the device.
Jason’s blog appeared with a picture of him giving a cheesy thumbs-up. An entire page was devoted to me and the grocery list of rumors. Most of them were ridiculous, but the others cut me to the quick. I couldn’t believe how many people in school saw me as conceited, mean, and butt ugly.
“Do I really look like a brown Cabbage Patch doll?” I asked Mia.
Her whole body turned as she gave me a good once-over. “No. Well, a little bit—right around the face. Why you ask?”
“Never mind.” I continued scrolling, my dignity shriveling with each comment. The false reports by the guys bothered me the most. These accounts had been relayed in such graphic detail, they should’ve been deleted by the webmaster. The most outrageous entry came from MalikD757, who claimed that he and I had partaken in acts that only someone freakishly double-jointed could accomplish.
I was ready to toss the phone out the window when Mia caught my wrist.
“Hey, hey, calm down. Don’t break it.” She wrenched her defenseless phone out of my clutches.
“One more outburst, ladies, and I’ll see you back here tomorrow,” Mrs. Braxton threatened with a slam to her desk. Apparently her nap time was over.
I returned to my editing task, seething and crossing out errors with angry red stripes. My entire week came to a head, the sickness, the uncertainty of Caleb’s recovery, not eating a decent meal in days, and having my ass handed to me by four of Malik’s biggest groupies. The attack in the girls’ bathroom began to make a bit more sense. Malik had gone too far, and his pissing contest placed me at risk of getting shanked by every girl who claimed him.
I was quickly learning that playing by the rules didn’t work in this school. I wished it hadn’t come to this, but now, I had to take care of business, Samara Nicole style. I had another thirty minutes until detention ended, so I needed to act fast.
Once my sentence ended, I stormed i
nto the gymnasium, absorbing the echoic blare of bouncing balls and squeaking sneakers. The smell of hot funk and industrial cleaner almost knocked me out. This was the guys’ turf, and I made it a point to never invade this domain, unless absolutely necessary.
Malik raced along the court, doing off-season relay drills with the rest of his team when I called for him. Sporting a fiendish grin, he called a time-out, then met me halfway. He didn’t get a chance to speak before an upper cut to the jaw knocked the taste out of his mouth.
“You lying son of a bitch!” I yelled. “Why are you spreading rumors about me, you evil—”
“Whoa! What the hell is your problem?” He tumbled back, struggling to gain his footing as his partners rushed in on the scene.
“What’s my problem? You’re telling everyone we’re having sex, and you know good and well it’s not true!”
His hand shot out and caught my wrist before I delivered another blow.
“Says who?” he challenged. Dude didn’t even own the decency to deny it.
I shoved his chest. “Says me!”
“Uh-oh, your girl is getting mad!” a teammate mocked. “You gonna let her carry you like that, Malik? You better handle that.”
He tossed his fellow teammates a sneaky grin before all eight members crowded around me. Only then did I realize the error of my ways. Emotions impaired judgment, and I’d managed to walk into the middle of a trap. No coach or teacher stood in sight, and class had been dismissed hours ago. It was just me among eight hormonal athletes and a thick cloud of BO. Not wanting to be the next Lifetime movie of the week, I backed away toward the double doors.
A boy pivoted to my left, blocking my escape. “Where you going?”
“Don’t try to run now. Say what you gotta say,” another guy added as the circle closed in on me.
“Let go of her,” Malik ordered. It was a calm, low-spoken command that the team immediately obeyed. “No one—and I mean no one—touches her but me. You feel me?”
The team nodded as one of the boys shoved me into Malik’s arms. My sense of rescue lasted a blink as he gripped my arms and smiled.
“I hear your boy is still in the hospital. He got messed up pretty bad. Looks like you need a new one,” he teased.
I tried to get my anger under control, tried to remember Mom’s teachings about the virtue of patience and to be a lady at all times. But this lady was in the middle of a nervous breakdown with a sentient that would Hulk out at any second.
“You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.” He pulled me toward the bleachers.
This was not a good sign. I tugged and jerked my arm free, but my efforts only made it worse. Before a scream could escape, he covered my mouth. His strong arm wrapped around my waist from behind, lifting me off the ground. My legs wiggled and kicked in a fruitless attempt at his shin or kneecap.
A lanky guy tried to step in, but the others pulled him back. “Hey, just let her go, man. We’ve still got practice. You don’t need to—”
“I’ll be out in a second. Samara and I need to talk,” Malik interrupted.
“Let go of me!” I yelled under his hand.
“Now get out and watch the door. Don’t let anyone come in.” Malik waited for his crew to file out of the gym one by one.
He carried me behind the bleachers against the wall. In seconds, his big body trapped me in.
“I shouldn’t have to work this hard to get a girl’s attention. I see how you look at me, trying to get under my skin. Nobody likes a tease, and you’re the biggest one in the school.” He finally removed the hand from my mouth.
“Look, Malik, you’re obviously seeing something that isn’t there. I never gave you any impression that I was interested in you.”
“You did when you kissed me.”
Whoa! I must have missed that episode. “What are you talking about? I never kiss—” was all I could say before his lips crushed against mine, shoving all arguments back down my throat.
Oh, the slimy feeling that curled my body! Hands, lips, and tongue went everywhere, a feeling that could only be boiled away.
Yet somehow, this all seemed oddly familiar.
Purely by instinct, I inhaled the trail of energy radiating from his skin. I knew he was under the draw, but I hadn’t realized to what extent. This guy took an all-expenses-paid trip to La-La Land. Scenarios flashed in my head, events that he could swear on a Bible were real.
Perhaps it was the dizziness or the indignant sense of disbelief, but once realization rolled up, so did my stomach. Caleb had warned me about the lengths people would go while under the draw; their desperation to be with us could turn violent at the flip of a switch. But Malik had picked the wrong time and the wrong chick to mess with.
All my torment, all my grief took center stage. The thought of losing my mate and enduring this perv’s unwanted touches shot my anger to Defcon one. I snatched away from Malik and pushed him against the wall with strength I’d never known I had. His body slammed against the brick surface, stunned at the sudden change of plans.
“You can’t just lead me on and leave me hanging.” Malik grabbed the back of my sweater before I could run. A rough jerk spun me around as his hand latched on to my face. Long, callused fingers dug into my cheeks, making my eyes water. Though I’d watched a basketball shrink to the size of a grapefruit in his grasp, I’d never realized how big Malik’s hands were until now. All that strength gathered in one hand, and something as delicate as bone could easily break under its power.
“You gonna play nice, and no one has to get hurt.” Seeing me nod, he backed me against the wall again. “Good girl.”
After licking his lips, his head leaned in for another kiss, but this time I didn’t fight him. His dark eyes, runny and crazed, made it clear that no one was leaving until he got what he wanted.
There was only so much one could take before the barricade broke. The floodgates of rage burst free as I opened my mouth wide and unhooked my roommate’s collar. I wished I could feel bad about what was about to happen, but human rules and sensibility no longer applied.
And the timing couldn’t have been any better. Lilith was hungry.
10
Mom flung open the door before I could slip in my key. Her fingers curled into the wood, ready to rip the door off its hinges. Her chest heaved and swelled under a red silk shirt. “Where in the world have you been? You should’ve been back hours ago!”
My eyes lowered to the floor. “I figured you’d check my status from my bracelet.”
“Answer the question,” she demanded. “What happened to you? How did you get that cut on your lip?”
“Shaving,” I grumbled.
Blue pools of fury told me that she wasn’t in a mood for jokes, nor was she about to let me cross the threshold without an explanation.
“I got into a fight,” I said in resignation.
“I figured that much. The principal called my office saying you had an incident in the bathroom. What I don’t know is why.”
“Girls at school think I’m stealing their men-folk.”
After several blinks, her heated gaze cooled to a low simmer. “They have no right to lay a hand on you. I should press charges.”
“Mom, I’m fine.” I pushed my way inside. “The girls got suspended and that’s that. Don’t want any more drama than necessary.”
Mom followed me to the dining room. “You should have called me.”
“It wasn’t an emergency. I had a really rough day, all right? I don’t need you hounding me.” I moved to the kitchen, but Mom foiled my escape.
“Too damn bad. How long has this been going on? If someone’s harassing you at school, you need to tell me.”
“What good would that do? I’m a freak, Mom. Everyone in school knows it. I have a succubus in my body. Girls are naturally hostile to me; nothing’s gonna change that. It will continue well after school, and bugging out over every little scrape is pointless. I’m gonna go to bed. I’m tired.” I ra
ced to my bedroom, then locked the door before she could catch me.
The shadow of her feet paced in front of the door. “Samara, talk to me, please? Something happened, and you’re scared. Come out and talk.”
The worry in her voice tightened my gut. Instinct begged me to open the door, grief ordered me to wrap myself around her and cry, but fear kept me stationary. “Mom, please, I just wanna be alone right now. I’ll talk to you later. Please, just let me sleep it off.”
After several long minutes, the shadow disappeared as she left me to my angst.
I changed into an oversized T-shirt, then fell on the bed and buried my head in a pillow. I knew Mom meant well, but her pep talk would just go to waste. My methods were cruel, but she couldn’t know the real reason I was upset. I couldn’t understand it myself, and I’d never been so scared and thoroughly freaked out in all my seventeen years. Death had a way of doing that to a person.
Tears didn’t come, but a lump emerged and clogged my windpipe. Eventually, sleep took over, surrounding me in darkness, pulling me back to the events of the afternoon as if I needed a reminder... .
I leaned over Malik’s body, lapping the traces of life from his lips. The thin string of energy, translucent and delicate as smoke, danced around my tongue and filled my inner being to capacity. Not just a taste, but a feast of life, a five-course meal generating power to my spirit.
I sat back on my haunches and lifted my head to the ceiling, withstanding the euphoric seizure of the intake. I now understood why so many people got drunk. The eye viewed the world through a soft focus lens, and every crisis lessened in gravity. However, my sense of direction shattered to pieces.
And then I saw him, a limp, waxy mannequin stretched across the filthy gymnasium floor, his limbs akimbo. Unblinking eyes stared skyward, engaged in a wordless discussion with Heaven. His mouth gaped open, as if shocked at the reply. His pulse didn’t exist, which shriveled my buzz to dust.
