Page 68 of Death is My BFF

“Yoo-hoo,” I said, snapping my fingers and directing their attention back to me. “Yes, hello. Your only child is standing here and would rather not hear your bickering. If you must know, I didn’t exactly plan on going out with David.”

Mom’s shaped eyebrows scrunched together. “How did you two even meet?”

“How did you know we went on a date?” I countered.

“There was a delay at the airport, so I picked up a magazine to read.” Mom leafed through her purse, bouncing a little on her feet with glee. “Imagine my surprise when I found these!”

She held out glossy copies of three popular magazines. On the cover of each magazine were various shots of David and I walking, smiling, laughing. David looked like a sex god strutting down the runway in his baseball cap, leather jacket, white T-shirt, and medium wash jeans, whereas I looked like an angsty buffoon in hand-me-down clothing. He was amused in a relaxed way, whereas I was mid–ugly laugh with my eyes squeezed shut. As if it couldn’t get any worse, there was a little photo of me shoving a hot dog down my face in the corner of one of the issues.

“Oh, no, no, no,no!” I grabbed the various magazines and read the headlines beneath each cover photo, horrified.

David Star: The secret love life of New York’s finest bachelor. WhoIS she?

David Star: America’s hottest celebrity meets cute goth girl next door.

And she loves hot dogs. Is Jr. Star down for that?

David Star: “I can be myself when I’m with her.”

“He was quoted!” I yelled.

“They called you cute,” Mom gushed, as I furiously flipped to the article from the last magazine. She grabbed one of the weeklies and frowned at the photo of me engulfing half a hot dog. “Hmm.

Well, that one’s a little inappropriate.”

I honed in on the article, then quickly snapped the gossip magazine shut. David was quoted, which meant he knew these pictures were leaked and hadn’t told me. It also meant he was feeding into this stuff by not denying we were dating.

“Have you kissed?” Mom asked.

“Lisa.” My father grimaced, but Mom corralled me with questions.

“What was the date like? Did he pay? Was he well-mannered? Is he funny? I have to call Aunt Sarah, she’ll be so excited to hear you have acelebrityboyfriend! Unless you told her already?”

“Mom, he’snotmy boyfriend.”

“If he breaks your heart, I’ll kill him,” Dad said, scowling at the magazine over my shoulder. “I don’t care how famous or pretty he is.

Say the word and I’ll make him disappear, pumpkin.”

Mom glared. “Henry!”

“What? I’m obviously kidding.” Dad kissed the top of my head and whispered, “Just say the word, I know a guy.”

“What if a student from your high school leaks your name and paparazzi come to the house?” Mom paced the living room back and forth. “The house is not in any condition to be filmed in for an interview—oh!” She spun toward us and plastered her hands on either side of her face. “What if David comes over for dinner? What if he invites his father? What if they see our unfinished bathroom, Henry? Henry, theunfinished bathroom.”

As my mother went on, I crept out of the living room and locked myself in my room. At least I knew my date with David had been real.

Honestly, I felt so uncomfortable that he had fed into this gossip. I got wrapped up in his charming smile and hadn’t considered how his chaotic celebrity life could affect me after that carnival date. Now not only were demonic creatures after me, so were the paparazzi.

I think I prefer the demons over the paparazzi.

I probed the pink scratch on my forearm. The gash on my arm, the slashes on my leg from the angel’s wings had disappeared. My fingers drifted to my neck, where Death’s monstrous gloved hand once clutched my throat. There was no trace of the events at the D&S Tower and the warehouse. Had it all been a nightmare?

Decompressing the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind was like trying to hit off a broken tennis ball machine on rapid fire.

David’s Chicago Bears jersey was nowhere to be seen, and I now wore an oversized nightshirt, which I couldn’t remember putting on. Pulling it up revealed the same bra and underwear I’d worn to David’s office. They were still a little damp from the rain too. I lifted the nightshirt to my nose and inhaled.

The faintest scent of cherries.

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